The Paradise of Elves – Part 75:  A Noble Child

Fireflies danced among the elves in the moonlit glade, surrounding them like living jewels.  Elflings pranced in and out of the more formal dancers, dodging round those who were displaying their athleticism in bounds and leaps.

Elrin emerged from the crowd, his laughter somewhat louder than usual and his movements less controlled.

‘Too much wine?’ Elrohir asked, sipping from his own glass.

‘I doubt it.’  Legolas leaned back against the smooth trunk.  ‘The servers are careful when dealing with those who are neither elflings nor adults – and his acquaintance with those who know how to break the rules is slight.’  He gazed over the gathering of celebrating elves.

‘You, on the other hand, have definitely had enough,’ Elladan commented.

‘True.’  Legolas raised his glass and took a mouthful.  ‘I have been anxious,’ he admitted.  ‘It is not every day that one’s parents provide one with a baby sister.’

‘Nor even every age,’ Elrohir added.  ‘Do you think we could convince our parents of the need to follow suit?  Or our grandparents?’

Elladan shook his head.  ‘Not wise, my brother.  Not wise at all.   The only one who might safely succeed in putting across that message is currently small, pink and indisputably innocent of any intention of interfering.’

They fell silent as the rhythm of the music rang in their bones and set their feet to tapping.  ‘I wish Miriwen was here,’ Elladan said wistfully.  ‘This is my kind of dancing.’

‘Why is she missing this?’ Legolas asked vaguely.  ‘It seems unfair.’

Elladan grinned.  ‘She will be here shortly,’ he said.  ‘She will come out just before your parents arrive with the guest of honour.  Apparently Ellanthir needs to be well-rested, well-fed and freshly clothed in order to be an honour to our House.’

‘Do you remember,’ Elrohir said suddenly, ‘when Adar carried Arwen into the Hall of Fire to show her to those who dwelt in Imladris?’

‘I do.’  Elladan lifted his chin to stare at the eternal stars above them.  ‘I have never seen him look happier.’

‘Daughters are special,’ Legolas pronounced.  ‘You should have one, Elladan.’  He raised his glass in an airy salute.  ‘I believe an elf has a right to a daughter.’

Elrohir cast up his eyes and exchanged the glass he was holding for the one that had slopped its remaining contents over his friend’s fingers.  ‘Drink that,’ he commanded. ‘I will fetch you something to eat.’

‘It is water!’ Legolas complained as he took a mouthful.  ‘Anyone would think I had been drinking too much!’

‘Have you not?’ Elladan grinned.

‘I have not,’ the fair-haired elf spoke with dignity.  ‘I am thinking.’

‘About what?’  Elrohir offered him a plate of bread and venison.  ‘Eat as you talk – you do not need to have your party manners on display with us.’

Legolas took a bite.  ‘So much time wasted,’ he said indistinctly.  ‘So much pain.’

Elladan shook his head.  ‘Not wasted,’ he insisted.  ‘That would infer that everything we did in Arda was pointless.  That every sacrifice was in vain – and that what happened would have happened anyway.’

‘I prefer to think of it as payment in advance,’ Elrohir shrugged. ‘And Thranduil is currently receiving some of the reward due to him for his age-long battle to hold Lasgalen against evil.’

‘A reward.’  Legolas smiled.  ‘I like that.  Celumíl is a reward worth having.’

Two identical faces turned towards him, eyes narrowed.

‘Orc’s teeth.’  Legolas’s hand froze on the way to his mouth.  ‘You did not hear that.’

Elladan’s lips moved, clearly trying out the name.  ‘I like it,’ he said.  ‘And I will certainly not be the one to let slip in front of your adar that you failed to keep the name secret until he announced it.’

‘Nor I,’ his twin said airily.  ‘Far be it from me to reveal to Taurevron’s King that his son is unable to keep a confidence.’

Legolas scowled.  ‘You had better not,’ he told them.  ‘Arwen told me enough about you to keep me supplied with blackmail material until the end of days.  I imagine Lady Galadriel would still be interested to know that chance had nothing to do with a certain piece of root finding its way into her ewer.  And that your adar would appreciate information about the fate of a certain scroll.’

Elrohir held up his hands.  ‘Peace,’ he demanded.  ‘We will say nothing – have confidence in us.’

‘I am shocked, though,’ Elladan added, ‘to discover that our little sister proved unable to keep our secrets.’   He shook his head.  ‘You will need to keep that in mind, my friend – little sisters, especially when young, can be tempted to reveal your errors of judgement in exchange for ribbons and sugared plums.’

‘It can prove very useful at times,’ Elrohir grinned.  ‘Now I am on the other end of the arrangement, I find I have learned to appreciate a daughter’s loyalty to her adar.’