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Chapter Six – A Little Bird

Celebrian’s high-pitched shout shocked the air like a sharp whistle, the resonating echo bouncing all around the high ceiling and colonnade of the large foyer.  With a child’s carelessness of decorum or caution, the little princess, her arms flung forward, launched full charge for her intended prey before he was able to discern from wherever she was coming.  Fortunately, Aurthôn happened to be looking in the right direction.  He grabbed Celebrimbor’s arm and forcibly turned him around to face his petite attacker. 

As if carried on a flash-flood of air, she came rushing over the floor – hardly a rustle from her silken garments and no din from her feet – to fearlessly pounce up high onto the surprised master smith, her clutching fingers reaching for his nose. 

“Odhgwador!” she cried.

The lord caught her around the waist with his broad hands barely in time to hold her off at arms-length.  Thus saving his nose and also keeping her from landing hard against his chest, enough to throw them both over.  Bursting into unabashed laughter, he spun her glimmering form around flowing with the force of her headlong dash.  Her feet swung out, nearly striking both Aurthôn and Laerlínath, who had to quickly hop back to get out of the way. 

In a smooth motion, Celebrimbor swooped the girl up over his head to spin in place so swiftly his hair lifted high behind him and her skirt clung to her legs.  With a squeal of delighted fright, Celebrian extended her arms and stretched out her body, arching like a swan.  She broke into ticklish giggles that rapidly dissolved into a breathless, babyish gurgle.  Every one of those few people in the foyer watching the two and were infected with her happy thrill.  A pair of young elf-maids near the gallery entrance laughingly clapped their hands in vicarious approval.  Uncontrollably grinning, Aurthôn looked to his wife expecting her to be just as thoroughly caught up in the child’s joy.  Instead, Laerlínath’s expression was all apprehension.  It gave Aurthôn momentary pause.  Was she frightened for the little princess or perhaps of her?  For here was the very one Laerlínath had short moments ago alarmingly called the ‘supposed’ child of Celeborn and Galadriel. 

Aurthôn had already seen that Laerlínath like many a new-comer was resisting the plain truth about Celebrian.  Not only because the Lord and Lady had had no children of their own before her, but because of a buried prejudice, that many in his wife’s family and truthfully his own too, bore against Celeborn and Galadriel.  They had never conformed to Amanyar customs, always remaining proudly Sindar – especially during their reign in Harlindon.  That was motivation enough for some to depreciate any of the couple’s accomplishments. 

And despite Aurthôn’s caution not to believe rumors, Laerlínath, again as did most, seemed to have settled on the seeming likelihood that Celebrian was a child of Amdir’s near kin, if not actually his.  The Sindar, fairly or not, had a reputation of giving their younger children to close kin to raise as their own, not just as a foster.  Of course, thinking Celebrian to be Amroth’s sister was not so terrible an error when there was even more salacious innuendo unfit for a lady’s hearing being offered by caitiff gossips such as Nensûlos.  Why did I ever let him near you?  In their old home’s society, his pious wife had always remained aloof from lies and liars as a matter of personal principle.  Her holding to her principles was one of the things that made Aurthôn proud of his wife.  So, there was some small cause for him to question whether she was concerned for Celebrian’s safety or simply worried that avoiding the darling child on principle would be a barrier to her stated goal of a place in court. 

But, as quickly as it came, Aurthôn dismissed the thought.  His wife had such a loving nature that she was of course anxious for the princess, not herself.  He moved to stand beside her to offer some solace.

“ ’Tis fine.  They are just playing,” he said with a broad smile.  Laerlínath made no sign that she had heard him; her worried eyes did not leave the flying princess.  Celebrimbor had begun reversing directions without warning.  He tossed the child up, spinning around below her, before catching her and continuing to spin.  He tossed her up to spin over his head before catching her to spin together again.  Celebrian was becoming breathless and red-faced.  “I know that your father and brothers never played in this rough fashion with you, but - ”

The lord abruptly stopped altogether and turned his elf-cygnet over in mid-air by tossing her up even higher with a slight sideways twist.  He then stepped aside as if to let the little bird crash to the ground in some careless jest.  Laerlínath’s breath caught softly.  Her eyes widened slightly with fear as she leaned forward with intent to prevent the child’s fall.  Aurthôn wrapped a restraining, but also reassuring, hand around her arm. 

Dress and hair fluttering, the bright fledgling bent as she came down backwards and smoothly, if not gently, landed before hitting the ground; sitting upright on the master smith’s extended left arm – a joyous, laughing elleth firmly perched on the branch of a mighty oak.  Her right hand clutched the left shoulder of her arbor’s coat and the other lightly rested on his left hand, a chivalrous support to a lady’s touch.  His right hand became a footstool for her dainty feet.  Laerlínath breathed a sigh of relief.  After which, a furious disapproval took over.

“Forebear, guren,” Aurthôn whispered, keeping hold of her arm.  Eyes angrily fixed on Celebrimbor, she neither nodded to Aurthôn’s words nor softened her mien.  But, she did refrain from pronouncing judgment on what she clearly considered outrageous recklessness. 

“Look here, where are your stockings, laesiel?!” cried Celebrimbor, trying to sound displeased, but unable to hide his amusement at finding inappropriately bare feet inside delicate slippers.  “Do not tell me you have ruined yet another pair?  What have you been up to?”  He gave her a stern, but still good-humored, look.

“Here in my pocket!” she proclaimed, overjoyed that the master smith had asked.  “See, I took them off so I would not ruin them!”  With her left hand, she pulled them out from a hidden place in her skirt and presented the neatly folded bundle to him obviously hoping for praise of her practical solution.

“How clever!”  His words were received as a great reward and she shone with pride.  “But, your poor shoes... ” he teasingly added with a sad shake of his head.

“Oh, they are not ruined inside!  I only had to put them back on for a bit.”  She shuffled her feet against his hand and the slippers fell to the floor.  Celebrimbor delicately tickled her toes before she pulled back her feet with a filly-like snicker.  “I am sent to the Lady!” she squeaked, then smiled very sweetly.  “Will you help me put them back on?” she asked, wheedling the master smith.  Her glistening jade eyes softened, making her look very helpless as she proffered her stockings to him.

If he had not already known that the child would reject any offer of his help, Aurthôn would have gladly volunteered.  He somehow missed seeing that this was exactly what Laerlínath had in mind and she slipped from his grasp.  She eagerly stepped forward gracefully extending her open hands.

“My lord, please allow me be of assistance,” said his wife, wearing a cheerful smile where an instant before had been a ferocious frown. 

It struck Aurthôn that only moments ago, for the sake of her advancement, Laerlínath had sought to be pleasant to his employer where she would normally have taken offence.  Was she now meaning to impress not Celebrimbor but Celebrian?  Would she actually seek the patronage of the Lord and Lady using the little princess after condemning her parents’ claim that she was their own child as a lie?!  He was barely able to mask his shocked confusion at her display of what he would once have believed was uncharacteristic hypocrisy.  Just how far would she compromise her convictions?  Overwhelmed with doubt, he feared his trust in her betrayed.  He wanted to grab her and shake her.  Why are you doing this?  Was this the same noble lady he had properly courted and corresponded with for so many years?  His hard-earned treasure who he thought he knew so well.  Could her feelings about him be as changeable?  And then, confusion turned to hurt.

Until this moment, he had been willing to assume that Laerlínath’s current ambitions had risen out of the euphoria that many people experienced when arriving in this incredible city-state which offered everyone so many new opportunities.  As her husband, he had been prepared to help her in all her endeavors.  But, he realized something now.  Since her arrival, she had disregarded his advice again and again.  Did this mean that his innumerable letters full of description and discoveries were not forgotten, but discredited?  Did you ever actually read them?!  Was it you or someone else that answered me?  His heart plummeted, fearing he had been intentionally deluded by the one he loved most ... used... as she apparently intended to use anyone, including this innocent child, to get what she really wanted.

Celebrimbor, putting on his manners, was making introductions.  Which is what you doubtlessly expect the child will provide to her parents.  Thus, allowing his wife to presume entrée into anywhere the Lord and Lady might be.  Something he himself had yet to accomplish.  Because I never thought my integrity an acceptable price!  He took a deep breath.  His emotions were getting out of control.  He tried to find some objectivity, but was unable to dampen them.  It wounded him to his core that his lady wife, well-bred and respectable, had turned into a common courtier.

Well, he need do and say nothing to correct her distasteful behavior.  Nensûlos was probably telling anyone that might listen that Laerlínath was a new follower.  By the morrow, the Lord and Lady would doubtless have report of her subscription to the prevalent rumor and Celebrimbor too.  Laerlínath would find herself forthwith on the outside of the court society she craved.  Lesson learned and deserved.  She would find what society might remain for her at her own level – as was befitting in the first place.

“Celebrian, this is Laerlínath, the wife of Aurthôn whom you know... ” Celebrimbor nodded towards his aide “... Laerlínath, this is Celebrian, the daughter of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, gwatheliel-nin.”  His gladness in naming the little girl his niece was plain.  Celebrian gleamed, very pleased that he was her uncle.  The affection between them was endearingly sincere.  When the child turned back to Laerlínath, she made no polite acknowledgement of the introduction.   Laerlínath bowed, her smile frozen in place.

Aurthôn was now certain that Celebrimbor did indeed favor Laerlínath for before this he was sure he would have been referred to as ‘Aurthôn whom you have met’, not ‘Aurthôn whom you know’ – an acquaintance, not a familiar - a subtle but important difference.  So now, he was torn between being proud and ashamed of Laerlínath.  He should not be resentful that his wife might raise their status above what he had done already.  Yet, he was greatly disturbed at how she was going about doing it.

Then, the princess acted towards Laerlínath just as he had expected and, if he had been more attentive, might have warned her of.  Despite Celebrimbor’s endorsement, Celebrian shrank from Laerlínath’s touch, pulling her stockings away when the lady reached to take them.

“No!” she cried, angrily turning to Celebrimbor.  “You, Uncle!”  Laerlínath dropped her hand and stepped back.  Despite his hurt feelings, Aurthôn instinctively came to her side.  He, if no one else, could see she was made a little embarrassed and upset by the child’s rejection.  That had been his experience too and he felt sorry for her.  There were people, even if only one or two, still watching and they would talk.  So besides hurt and angry, he also felt guilty for not being sharp enough to keep her from inviting the rejection.  He had had time to establish himself before Celebrian’s arrival with her mother.  The girl’s reaction to him had not reflected too badly on him.  Still, he was sure there were some he had to deal with whose cooperation was less than it would have been if the little princess favored him in any way.  Laerlínath would suffer the same and likely more.

“Celebrian, I only have two hands,” complained the lord.  He in turn became wheedling.  “Please let the kind lady help me.”  Celebrimbor was perfectly willing to permit Laerlínath some sway with him.  Celebrian, on the other hand, was certainly not.  Aurthôn had often seen how possessive the child could be concerning her uncle.  He remembered in which letters he had mentioned this very thing to his wife and his sympathy for Laerlínath faded.

“No.  Nítmilrû.”  Celebrian indicated her disregarded guard.  Laerlínath’s eyes went wide and she turned questioningly to her husband.  Now, you look to me?  For something as innocuous as a familiar, if lowly, bodyguard being chosen over a relative stranger of greater rank? 

“As you please,” said Celebrimbor, in unmistakable mimicry of Celeborn’s usual response to his own lady wife.  Whether she was aware of doing it or not, Celebrian responded by angling her head in just the same manner as would Galadriel.  “Nítmilrû, do you mind?” he asked.

The guard said nothing and his face revealed nothing of his opinion.  Coming forward, he proceeded to pick up the fallen slippers and gave them to Celebrimbor to hold.  After gently rubbing any dirt from the child’s feet, he tugged on the willingly surrendered stockings.  Taking the shoes back, he carefully brushed out the insides with his fingertips and replaced them firmly on the princess’s feet.  Then he lightly slapped the bottom her shoes twice as one would the helmet of a warrior when the fellow was made ready for battle.  Celebrian was delighted with the joke.

“Hannon le!” she said with a politeness that contrasted sharply with her treatment of Laerlínath.  Without responding, the stoic guard stepped back to become once again unnoticed.

“So, why are you going to the Lady at this late hour instead of your bed?” questioned Celebrimbor using his mock stern look again.

“To receive a punishment for my escapade.”  The little princess sounded almost proud she was to be reprimanded.  She alternately tapped her re-shod feet against her restored footstool until both were stilled in a surprise grab that set her to giggling again. 

“Oh ho, so you have been up to something!”  Celebrimbor’s smiled indulgently and released her feet.  “Well, tell me.”  He cocked an ear in her direction.  Celebrian leaned in to whisper into her uncle’s ear, shielding her mouth from sight with her hands. 

As he often did upon report of her antics, Aurthôn found himself thinking that the little elleth was more like a little ellon.  Much like his young self had been – all in and of the moment and not the consequences.  Celebrian was simply different than any female elfing he had ever known.  Perhaps, the same kind of youngster her formidable mother must have been.  Certainly, she grow up to be as beautiful... in a Telerin way.  Laerlínath was tugging at his sleeve, wanting his attention.  He reluctantly turned to her and found her giving him a puzzled look.

As the child spoke, Celebrimbor’s smile left his face.  It came back only when she leaned back and spoke facing him again.

“Do you think the Lord will let me keep him?” she asked in a serious way.  The master smith responded without his previous humor.  He was not pleased with her question and spoke with strained lightness.

“Keep him?!  A Laiquendi warrior is no pet.  Think you to keep Nítmilrû on a leash or in a cage?” 

She was taken aback and vigorously shook her head, wagging her silver hair into shimmering ripples.  “No, no, as a retainer!  My bowman and... !”

“Hear now, hên,” said her uncle, firmly halting what was sure to be a long stream of chatter.  “You are much too young to have any sort of follower.  You already have a pony you need take better care of.  Be happy you have a good family to care for you.”  And he kissed her affectionately upon the cheek as if he were her father.  With equal fondness, she kissed him upon his cheek.  Laerlínath’s mouth went agape then shut.  Her hand sought Aurthôn’s and he reflexively gave it a comforting squeeze.  Then, he realized he might have been wiser not to have done so.  Laerlínath could not be thinking what he thought she was thinking – could she?

Celebrimbor set Celebrian down on her feet.  He stooped and straightened her clothes, even smoothed her hair.  Exchanging smiles, he took her by the shoulders and touched his nose to hers.

Laerlínath leaned her shoulder upon Aurthôn’s, completely flummoxed by the master smith’s attentions.  Aurthôn was tempted to laugh at her speechlessness; selfishly pleased at her absurd conclusion.

It was laughable.  How could she ever believe Galadriel would be unfaithful – for any reason whatsoever and with anyone whomsoever even Celebrimbor?  Or that Celeborn would not know and not do something about it – faithful friends of not?  Only a fool would think that Celebrimbor would be so utterly stupid as to openly lavish affection on both mother and daughter, thus inviting suspicion, if they had such a secret to hide.  And with that incredible shade of star-bright hair, how could Celebrian be anyone’s daughter but Celeborn’s? 

Why not instead accede with the most scandalous rumor of all?  That the Lord had gotten the child on some fertile maiden and that the Lady herself had arranged it?!  The only falsehood that made any sense was that the little princess was a gwanur fosterling.  But, Laerlínath apparently had lost sight of that explanation along with both her common sense and female sensibility.  Continue to disdain my advice if you so like making foolish mistakes.  Having to accept the truth after making this incredibly ridiculous assumption would certainly dissuade her that she knew what she was about in this new place.

He had grown up around Sindar and respected their customs although he did not follow them.  Sadly, many traditional Amanyar still misunderstood and disapproved of certain of their ways.  These grey-elves from Lórinand with their even more casual displays of affection were sure to surprise, if not affront such people.  Admittedly, he too had been occasionally surprised by the difference between the Galadrim and the Sindar of Lindon.  And I wrote to you about it!  Did you disbelieve my ability to observe?  Take me to be a gullible fool at the mercy of ‘simple’ elves? 

His erratic thinking must have emerged readable upon his face.  From her troubled expression, his wife appeared to have finally caught onto his helpless slid into emotional chaos.  However, she did not confront him having to deal with her own unhinged conclusions.  Her state of mind spurred to get a better hold on his.

“Go to the Lady and please do not mention that you saw your uncle,” begged Celebrimbor.  With a conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes, Celebrian nodded.  Celebrimbor stood and looked at the guard who remained completely motionless, giving no indication if, whether questioned or not, he would likewise accommodate the lord’s request.

Aurthôn felt Laerlínath literally shiver free from her self-imposed shock.  He looked at her half expecting to see that she had realized her erroneous conclusions and that her normal intelligence had returned.  To his astonishment, she had regained her determination.  She took a deep breath like one preparing to plunge into an ice-cold pond.  This time he was ready to stop her and kept her hand when she started pulling away.

“You are wrong,” he breathed close to her ear, only for her to hear.  And maybe I was wrong about you.  He determinedly set aside his confused feelings for his beloved’s sake.  “You said you would consider my advice.  I say hold off.”  Her expression did not change, rather it hardened.  “You know not these waters!”

She gave her husband a sharp glance and leapt in by offering, “Shall I see you to your lady mother, heryn?”

Under a narrow and brilliant stare the little princess’s mouth compressed into a rebellious pout.  But after a short moment, it relaxed; the lower lip pulling in thoughtfully.  To the surprise of all, Celebrian agreed.

“Yes.  And I shall introduce you to my nanath.”  Before anyone thought to speak, the princess grabbed Laerlínath’s hand and quickly began leading her forward instead of the older lady bringing the child along.  The guard silently followed a few paces behind, a grey shadow.

Aurthôn’s surprise was swiftly spent, changing to concern as he watched them go down the gallery, further and further away.  A hand settled on his shoulder and he turned to see Celebrimbor, who was once again as bemused as when he had greeted Aurthôn earlier on this - what had become a most stressful - evening.

“You are right to worry.  Her first meeting with the Lady and your lovely wife will be facing an aggravated Galadriel without the mollifying presence of her Celeborn.”  The master smith sounded sure that his fellow lord would not be there when Celebrian and Laerlínath arrived upon the dais.  “I pray she is of a steady sort,” he added almost wistfully.

“She is,” Aurthôn replied, trying to sound confident.  Steady enough.  He hoped.  For what if the Lady had already heard the tattle or suspected Laerlínath’s new folly?  Suspect! She might know immediately when the little princess brings her forth.  He suddenly felt like he was the one that had been spun around and around.  Was that what the child intended?  To use his wife as a diversion from being punished? 

“You should tell her to be more careful.  That child has unsuspected depths.”

It was practically the same advice Celebrimbor had also belatedly given him after his first, and unnerving, meeting with Lord Celeborn.  As in the aftermath of that encounter, Aurthôn was full of conflicting emotions.  He felt sympathy for Laerlínath’s humiliation from rejection with more yet to come.  He was angry that in his wife’s want for distinction, she had cast aside her principles and dashed his faith in her.  He was confused by the loss of her usual acuity.  He felt guilty for not being quick enough himself to prevent her mistakes.  He was hurt by her disregard of his hard-won wisdom.  He resented her apparent swiftness in gaining her goals where he had taken years.  However, these tumbling feelings were swept aside as inconsequential by his fear for his beloved’s survival in the wake of the Lady’s potential ire.

“Shall I set off now?” he asked of his employer – Celebrimbor might still be wanting to speak to Celeborn.  If he found the Lord quickly, he would be dismissed and could be there all the sooner to comfort Laerlínath after her encounter with Galadriel.  “Or perhaps question the servers as suggested?”  At least, he could salvage some pride in his wife’s one smart tactic tonight.

“... We are off... to the west vestibule,” muttered Celebrimbor.  From his distant expression, the master smith appeared to be working out a bit of strategy himself.  “If Telpë intends to put Hrassa up as a guest... it is to there they will come before either goes to the great hall.”  He slowly looked Aurthôn over from head to toe.  “And I mean for you to become good friends with the green-elf.”

TBC

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Author’s Notes:

All elvish is in Sindarin unless otherwise indicated and underlined means I put it together myself – corrections and comments are welcome!

ellon/elleth – elf male/female

guren – my heart

hên – child

hannon le – thank you

heryn – princess

odhgwador/odhgwathel – uncle/auntie parent-brother/parent-sister who is not a parent’s sibling

gwanur – kin

gwathelion/gwatheliel – nephew/niece sister-son/sister-daughter who is a daughter of a sister who is not a sibling

laesiel – baby fem. babygirl