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Chapter Nine – A Feminine Touch  

Seeing his aide’s troubled face, Celebrimbor felt a momentary pang of guilt.  Aurthôn was clearly concerned for his engaging, and guilelessly ambitious, young wife.  Galadriel might be too much for such a delicate, aristocratic maid.  She had reacted badly to Celebrian’s initial petulance; a harsh word from the Lady might do her in. 

“I pray she is of a steady sort,” he said, hoping Aurthôn would say she was. 

“She is,” Aurthôn replied, sounding confident.

If her husband was sure, then there should be little reason to worry.  However, as he reconsidered Celebrian’s hesitant acceptance of Laerlínath’s offer to escort her to her mother, Celebrimbor reluctantly admitted that his clever niece just might be planning something beyond assuaging her mother’s insistence on decorum.

“You should tell her to be more careful,” he advised.  “That child has unsuspected depths.”  He felt tempted to tag along and to see how the lady fared facing the Lady.

But, the opportunity to perform a knightly rescue would be left to another, the master smith decided.  With Celebrian’s startling news about Hrassa’s return, his own schemes had necessarily shifted.  Securing Celeborn’s help with an inconvenient matter had become less important then securing a foothold in an unfolding situation.  Neither he nor his aide could be spared to save even the loveliest elleth from embarrassment when the well-being of others – including himself – was at stake.

For unlike most servants who would act impulsively out of love and loyalty, the cogndîr could not be restrained by any lord other than his own.  As dangerous as a captive wolf left off the chain.  Seemingly calm under his master’s hand, only to leap forth with no warning.  Hrassa had given his friendship to Celebrimbor, so he would listen to any orders from the master smith out of courtesy and regard.  At court, the bowman would conduct himself according to expected protocols.  He would follow the orders of his commander in battle.  Nonetheless, Hrassa did not obey anyone – except Celeborn and Galadriel.  He had so thoroughly endeared himself to them that he had always been permitted an ill-considered breadth of freedom.  Proving even the wise can on occasion be foolish.  And now, Celebrimbor assumed by his being welcomed back as a guest, unfettered forgiveness as well.  More times than not, the Laegel had indeed proven himself a great boon to his lords.  Even so, he was an unpredictable, self-directing threat to anyone who dared approach his ‘family’ with what he perceived as even the slightest hint of malice.

Being accepted as a friend by a Sindar prince, especially Thingol’s influential nephew, had been a major turning-point of Celebrimbor’s life in Ennor.  Celeborn’s judgments were accepted by all to be wise and just.  Whomever he would pardon from a crime was considered redeemed, if not innocent.  His friendship, however, could be seen as politic or extended in pure self-interest.  But, never Hrassa’s.  Celebrimbor had not participated in the Kinslaying at Alqualondë anymore than Galadriel and her brothers.  Nevertheless, in Beleriand, not every Noldo was given allowance for that whether they deserved it or not.  Úmanyar that would have called the master smith Exile Scum to his face or scorned him as a scion of Fëanor despite Celeborn’s friendship had treated Celebrimbor with respect – because Hrassa did.  Due in great part to these two friends, he was not smeared with the bloody brush of his kin’s deeds.  Both friendships had helped him as much as Orodreth’s to repudiate his father and uncle’s conspiracy in Nargothrond and free himself from an oath he had never taken.

He distractedly wiped his calloused hands slowly down the front of his elegant coat as if wearing his leather apron, an acknowledged habit when preparing for a delicate task.  The artist within him always was more confident than the politician and the artist was clearly dictating his next stroke.  Sometimes the success of a piece depends solely on timing.  Not only when envisioning the result, but in discerning the readiness of the medium.  More, his aide’s usefulness had suddenly become more evident.  Now was the time to make use of this tool and feel out his skill with it.  He was certain.  If he did not act now, he would lose his best chance to prevent unwanted trouble.

Hrassa’s disappearance from Harlond had caused the Lord and Lady serious unhappiness.  An unhappiness which had been inflicted upon anyone they suspected of being involved in the loss of their favored minion.  Celebrimbor was glad not to have come under their suspicion.  But once again, that was only because Hrassa had – on his own and in his own way – befriended his prince’s friend.  Unfortunately, the bowman might now mention his and Celebrimbor’s conversation just prior to his going missing.  Not that I was ever in any way responsible for any of his actions.  Still, it would hurt Celeborn’s and Galadriel’s feelings very much to find out that he had known of Hrassa’s intentions and had done nothing to stop him.  Not even warned them.  But, how could I repeat what was said in confidence?  That was an excuse perhaps, but a reason too.

If his inaction was found out, things between his fellow rulers and himself could become very... awkward.  Worse, one of his unaware constituents or the servants and colleagues he was obliged to protect was going to run afoul of Hrassa.  It was inevitable.  Much worse, there was his gwatheliel!  The cogndîr might just hand over his knife to the child if she were to ask it of him!  Something very likely given her curiosity.  He needed someone to keep him aware of the Laegel’s movements and discourage such misjudgments.  And that would be Aurthôn, not some lackey.  His promising aide would keep a friendly eye on Hrassa.

 “Shall I set off now?  Or perhaps question the servers as suggested?” asked Aurthôn, still expecting to hunt for the Lord.

They should be able to intercept Celeborn and him on their way to the guest quarters.

“... We are off... to the west vestibule,” Celebrimbor muttered in answer.  “If Telpë intends to put Hrassa up as a guest... it is to there they will come before either goes to the great hall.” 

Not only could Aurthôn keep track of the cogndîr, but Hrassa would appreciate having an experienced guide in Ost-in-Edhil.  Thus earning a return-favor which might come in handy.  He slowly looked Aurthôn over from head to toe.  Hrassa would never suspect this unsullied young ellon of subterfuge.

“And I mean for you to become good friends with the green-elf,” he said, his thoughts coming back into focus.  Aurthôn was alert, looking to him for instructions, a familiar hint of excitement behind his dutiful attention.

With a quick jerk of his head, Celebrimbor indicated that they would be leaving by the crystalline doors which led outside onto the wide, terraced walk encircling the entire building.  He figured they could run around the huge building and be a few minutes faster to intercept the lord and bowman than navigating inside through the throng.  In particular, they would avoid being stopped to make conversation.  Besides, there was the distinct risk of Galadriel hearing – even at this very moment from Celebrian or Laerlínath – that he was present.  If the Lady sent a page after him, it would be unlikely for that person to search outdoors.

Before they got across the foyer to the double doors leading out, a small party of dwarves led by newly ensconced Master Jewel-smith Khrór, dressed in what would be considered dwarfish splendor, clomped into the circular chamber.  Celebrimbor quickly glanced but kept on going, pretending not to hear the noisy parade.  The dwarven-smith did not usually don court clothes and come to social events anymore than himself.  At another time, he probably would be amused by the Khrór’s bluster and flamboyant fashion.  Aurthôn touched his arm.

“They are coming to you, my lord,” he whispered.  The master smith did not stop.  However, Khrór would not let Celebrimbor escape him.

“Master Celebrimbor!” roared the dwarf with intonations of an authority bestowed by some righteous grievance.  “I would speak to you!” 

Celebrimbor winced, nettled not by a past injustice being recalled, for there had been none, but by the extremely unwanted delay and attention.  Pushing aside his irritation, he turned to show a schooled expression of indifference to the dwarf.  Anyone else he would have brushed off, but Khrór was a Master and must be extended more courtesy.  A pity that outstanding skill was the only reason the dwarf had risen to his high position.  It certainly was not his personality.  For a brief moment, Celebrimbor thought about introducing him to Hrassa.

“Master Khrór,” Celebrimbor responded at a more temperate volume, hopeless that Khrôr would get the hint about modulating his own.  Sketching a bow he said, “And how are you this evening?”  Not completely hiding his annoyance did not make Khrôr back down as it would a more perceptive person.  The dwarf remained loud and oblivious, purposely standing as nose-to-nose with Celebrimbor as he could manage being so much shorter.

“Surprised to find you here!  Now, about those rejected ingots!  You know the impurities were not intentional...!” 

“Excuse me, my lords, I humbly beg your pardons,” interrupted Aurthôn, acting every bit like a nervous, hesitant secretary.  “But, I must remind Lord Celebrimbor of his pending meeting with Lord Celeborn.”

Celebrimbor almost laughed aloud at Khrôr’s reaction to the mere mention of Celeborn’s name.  Losing a little of his ruddy color, the dwarf glanced around furtively, afraid the Lord would be arriving at that very moment.

“Ah well, so you are busy and this matter can wait until another time,” said Khrôr, working to keep some dignity in the face of his companions whom he had most likely encouraged to accompany him to the great hall just so he would feel safe showing up.  He stepped back and bowed, saying “Good evening, Master Celebrimbor.”

“Good evening, Master Khrôr.”  Mean humor suddenly getting the better of him, Celebrimbor added, “Of course, you are welcome to stay and discuss the matter with me and Celeborn.  I am sure he would like to know your opinion about the verdict.  Though I seriously doubt he would amend the court order.”

“No, no,” the dwarf responded a little too quickly to hide his uneasiness.  “Kind of you to offer the opportunity, but I do not seek to oppose the fine nor take up your valuable time any longer.  I simply wished for you to better understand the circumstances.  We Mirdain must stick together, after all.”  He offered a jerky, clandestine grin that made his coifed beard waggle and almost winked an eye.

“Of course,” Celebrimbor replied, barely holding on to a polite smile.  “Enjoy the evening, everyone!”  There were courteous expressions in return.  Appearing to have regained his courage-in-numbers, Khrôr proudly led his entourage into the gallery.  The master smith wondered if the dwarf would be rude enough to press for immediate entrance into the great hall or courteously await his turn.  Of course, he will push his way in and that might be fortuitous.  Something to distract Galadriel.

Celebrimbor looked at Aurthôn and smiled his genuine thanks for his aide’s effective intervention.  Aurthôn, just a bit smug at fending off Khrôr and remaining honest while doing it, strode over to the doors.  Opening one side, he swept his hand in a gracious wave, inviting his lord employer to pass through first.  Outside, leaping over the shallow stairs down to the patio, they landed running.  In the back of his mind, Celebrimbor made a note to try and reuse the beautiful doors of this building in the new palace.  Setting a swift pace, he breezed past the courting couples scattered along the wide terrace dimly lit with scattered lamps.  The two of them skimmed through the brooks of light splashing down out of the tall, beveled windows and glazed doors like water from clefts in the cliff face of the palace; the well-swept pavement lending additional quiet to his and Aurthôn’s ruffling passage. 

Adhering to propriety, younger couples they passed had a chaperone.  They mostly sat on the long stone benches set between the raised flowerbeds and always under a lamp.  Others slowly walked, pausing at the widely spaced sparkling, lighted fountains.  On the other hand, the older couples would stroll away from the light.  And he knew a few would walk outward until there was no more patio only cultivated foliage; there to seemingly drop out of sight over the rail-less border as if coming to the edge of the world.  The lush darkness beyond the end of pavement was a part of his artificial mountain Celebrimbor sometimes worried he would not find any reason to explore in like fashion before it was gone.

Rounding the northwest corner, he was feeling invigorated, refreshed by the easy challenge and cool night air.  He anticipated the satisfaction of shaping something to his liking.  What was even more pleasing to his heart and spirit was that he was joining up with friends.  To be sure, both of them – particularly when together – could be a little trying.  But, good friends none the less, whose company he enjoyed.  Despite his fears, Celebrmibor hoped Hrassa would not be greatly changed.  If nothing else, let him have kept his sense of humor!  The cogndîr was able to appreciate the ironies of life and one of the very few people able to joke with Celeborn.

Suddenly, Aurthôn roughly dragged his employer into the shadows behind a long stone planter containing a trimmed hedge row.  Keeping them both low and urging the lord to keep silent, his aide pointed forward, indicating with a cautioning expression that there was danger ahead.  Celebrimbor carefully spied through the thick manicured bushes, attempting to see what it was he had missed that Aurthôn had not.

At the top of the next set of broad stairs, a slim female figure with an elegant carriage, crowned with fashionably ornamented hair, slowly glided down from the translucent doorway.  Sharply silhouetted, she floated over the shallow steps slightly turned away, her features obscured in the dark tunnel of her long shadow.  And apparently careless of the sheerness of her rippling skirt.

Elrovail!  Galadriel’s notorious lady-in-waiting – looking for him to deliver the Lady’s summons to attend her!

Every few steps, the lady paused slightly while scanning the scenery.  Upon reaching the lowest step, her head turned enough for Celebrimbor to be unmistakably sure that it was she.  Her mantling scarf slipped away and she caught it ere it fell to the ground.  Gathering it up, she wrapped it around her arms.  The pale skin of her long, shapely neck and exposed shoulders shone like smooth silk.  Entrancing eyes rose to gaze in his direction.  He almost gasped and quickly ducked down.

“You are an excellent look-out, Vinne,” he barely whispered, Aurthôn’s face and his inches apart.  “This is twice tonight you have saved me consternation.  But, what now?” he asked frustrated.  “We cannot afford to wait here for her to depart.”

“I could draw her off,” Aurthôn reluctantly offered.  Celebrimbor understood that reluctance.  The lady had for a long time entertained herself at his aide’s expense.  However, he just realized, not since Laerlínath’s arrival.  But, one could not be sure if that was the reason for the cessation of Elrovail’s interest.

“No, I do not want to lose you,” he replied.  “Perhaps you can send her off in a wrong direction.”

“What if she goes then watches to make sure I did not purposely mislead?”  Yes, she was that clever.  Was she not looking outdoors?  Had she not intercepted him?!  “Or enlists me in the Lady’s name to go along and aid her?”

“Well... “ he thought.  “Just keep her turned away.  I will sneak by and then you get rid of her somehow and catch up.  I can keep Celeborn and Hrassa occupied for a few minutes.  That is the best we can do.”  He placed a hand on Aurthôn’s forearm to emphasize the importance of their mission.  “I must introduce you to Hrassa tonight – before Telpë thinks to provide another as guide.”

“My lord, why not simply receive the invitation and delay your attendance?” asked Aurthôn, anxiously aware he really should not be making the suggestion.  But, he did avoid the worse mistake of suggesting Celebrimbor simply refuse.

“Because I will not attend at all.”  That should be all his aide need hear.  He was not required to explain his relationship with the Lady to anyone.

Visibly apprehensive, Aurthôn nodded.  He stealthily peered through the hedge, trying to judge the right moment to step out.  Suddenly, he slipped around the end of the hedge and stood tall.  Cloaked in false confidence, he walked up to the sensuously poised lady.  He nonchalantly stepped up a few stairs, outside the plane of her shadow, careful not to let his shadow fall where it might shield her eyes from the light.

Noticing his approach, Elrovail turned to him, the light enhancing her full, curvaceous form.  Watching, Celebrimbor swallowed down his involuntary admiration.  Still, he pondered why the adventurous Aurthôn had ever chosen Laerlínath.  His aide’s lady wife was a noble golden beauty, a shining youthful daughter of Lindon.  Elrovail was a ravishing maven from before the first moonrise, a sable-maned elda from Nan Elmoth.  Laerlínath had the required genteel manners.  Whereas, meekness was never a virtue in Eol’s court.

“Aurthôn!” the lady softly exclaimed, acting utterly delighted to have encountered him rather than anyone else in the world.  Her throaty voice made even her normal speech sound sultry.  “What an unexpected pleasure!” she said with a suggestive purr.

“Aduial vaer, Lady Elvorail,” Aurthôn replied, executing a curt bow.  He wore a tight, cynical smile.  “I would be at your service, but I fear you would make too much of my words.  I remind you that I am a married ellon.”

The lady’s attention was enthusiastically engaged.  She smiled like a cat, her eyes fixed upon him.

“Tsk, you are always so clever with your tongue,” she said admiringly, followed by a subtle feminine laugh.  “But oh, I should not have said that.  For anyone eavesdropping might make too much of my words.”  Her feline smile did not waver.  “I must try not to be as careless in front of your wife.”  Aurthôn was sidling up the stairs, attempting to maneuver her into facing into the light and away from Celeborimbor’s passage.  “Speaking of whom requires your services far more than I ever shall.”

“How came you to such a pleasing opinion?”  Elrovail drifted parallel to his every step instead of completely turning, forcing him to in essence dance with her as he swayed in one direction than the other.

“Alas, not this time, luithollon-nin.”  Her amused expression softened, becoming alluring.  “Although, I usually do come to a satisfying conclusion with very little debate.”  She delicately raised a faddishly tinseled hand to his face.  “As long as it is skillful.”  He leaned away, avoiding her touch.  But, he did not back down from her seductive intimidation.  She lowered her hand, her smile broadening as her eyes narrowed.  “Lady Mirathel... she thinks that you should attend your wife.  Poor thing...,” she said, feigning sympathy. 

Aurthôn stopped dead still; the strained smile he had maintained up to this point vanished.

“Where is she?”  Mirathel, the kind companion of the Lady, would never recommend Aurthôn see to his wife without reason.  Whatever disdain Aurthôn had assembled to face Elrovail’s assaults crumbled, distress woefully taking its place.  Opposite of what Celebrimbor would have predicted Elrovail did not cruelly prolong her answer.

“In the Meadow Room...,” she said with an uncaring air, “...and looking very pale when I left them.”

Without another word or glance, Aurthôn spun around and sprinted up the stairs to go hastily back inside.

With a defeated sigh, Celebrimbor feared he had lost his best chance to put a trusted watcher on Hrassa.  If he had sprung out and ordered him to halt, he was sure Aurthôn would have obeyed.  Except, he was not about to be caught by this panther of an elleth.

For said creature had not loped after her victim.  She stood there simply smiling, savoring the flight of an old prey.  Evidence that, despite having delivered an actual message to Aurthôn, the master smith was her primary quarry.  However, after gazing up at the pale moon and smirking at the lovers about her, she apparently decided that he was not here after all and there was no one else worth toying with, so she would resume her hunt inside.  Elegantly swirling around, she headed back up the stairs, pausing only to tease the fellow who seeing her through the glass gallantly opened the left door for her and to flirt shamelessly with the other eager fellow who had opened the right. 

Celebrimbor shook his head.  Elrovail was not really heartless, just disappointed by the weakness of others.  But sadly, her licentious games only reinforced the long-held misconception that Úmanyar were promiscuous.  Whenever he witnessed the way she played with people, he could not understand why shehad been retained for so long and never sent away for good.

Then again, he was not sure he wanted to know why.

As soon as she was out of sight, he bolted.  In moments, he was leaping up the narrow stairs and had his hand on the handle of the door into the vestibule below the guest quarters.  Checking the interior through the clear, oval portal before he went inside, he was dismayed.  There was no one there.  The chamber was completely empty.

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!

luithollon-nin – ‘my charming fellow’ or ‘my charmer’  Like with mellon, the defaulted gender is male.

gwatheliel – niece – sister-daughter who is the daughter of a sister who is not a sibling

cogndîr – bowman Nandorin

ellon/elleth – elf male/female