"Five hundred times have the red leaves fallen in Mirkwood my home since [the building of Edoras]," said Legolas, "and but a little while does that seem to us.”

I wanted to put a timescale on the courtship of Glorfindel and Maerdess and of Erestor and Losgael so I could tie it to canon. The relationships themselves are my own invention. Arwen would be a young woman at this point, and would be anxious to get involved in a wedding. The courtship and wedding customs described here are taken from the HoME, details of which can be found on the Make Yourself at HoME thread on my forum, Can We Talk?

Glorfindel's job was never explicitly stated by Tolkien, so I took a few liberties and made him one of Elrond's two best friends.

The morning after Glorfindel and Maerdess plighted their troth, Maerdess could hardly contain her excitement. She sat at the breakfast table with a huge smile on her face, picked at her food and looked lovingly at her intended from time to time.

Losgael barely noticed this since she was focussed on Erestor. She caught his eye when she could and relived their kiss over and over again. A warm, happy feeling permeated her being, and the other diners at the table seemed far away. Drifting on a cloud of bliss, she was barely aware of anything or anyone but Erestor, who stood out like a beacon to her.

When he turned his head to the side, she was reminded of a coin she had seen once. In profile, he looked like a king to her. When looking directly at her and smiling, she found herself going weak at the knees... but that was how Glorfindel always made her feel! She tore her eyes away from her beloved and turned to look at the lord of the House of the Golden Flower.

He sat there, gazing with adoration at Maerdess, who was sitting near the corner of a table connected to the top table.

Losgael could see him clearly. His golden hair framed his face, his grey shirt and jacket neatly fitted his broad shoulders and trim waist, but for once the feelings that usually arose in her when she looked at him did not envelop her as they had so often before.

“Losgael?”

Losgael looked around to see who was talking to her.

“You seem lost in thought, Losgael,” said Celebrían.

“Indeed, my lady,” Losgael replied. “Did you need me for something?”

Celebrían smiled. “Is it Erestor?”

“I would very much prefer to speak of it later,” replied Losgael.

In the sewing room, after breakfast, the ladies of Rivendell were working on a new tapestry to present to Arantar to celebrate his accession to the throne of Arnor. It depicted the deeds of his ancestors, including the journey of Elendil to Middle-earth from Numenor and his assault on Sauron, in which he was portrayed as a valiant hero surrounded by enemies, who defied them to the last. Isildur was also featured as a Man thwarted while trying to rescue his father, then solemnly seated on his throne, then slain in battle. Valandil and Eldacar were also depicted as kings, but they were portrayed as Men of learning and culture rather than as heroes, since their deeds were not sung of in Rivendell.

Celebrían and the other ladies worked in silence, and as they worked, the Lady of Rivendell observed them. Maerdess was like a bubbling pot. She grinned from ear to ear, unable to sit still, as if she harboured a great secret and ached to share it with the others. Losgael was lost in her thoughts. She smiled enigmatically as if she too had a secret, but preferred to keep it to herself.

From time to time a bright flash would catch her eye as the silver ring on Maerdess's finger caught the balmy sunlight that streamed in through the window. It appeared to wink like a naughty child planning a prank, and the expression on Maerdess's face added to the effect. Losgael's fingers were bare, her face blank.

After an hour or so, the other ladies made their excuses and left the room, and only Losgael, Maerdess, and Celebrían remained there.

“Well, Maerdess, will you give up your secret?” asked Celebrían with a knowing smile. She knew that the answer might possibly upset Losgael, but she was there to comfort her handmaid if necessary. Besides, Maerdess deserved to be happy.

Maerdess said nothing for a moment. She just sat there quivering and clutched at her ring, but her excitement could not be contained, and she exclaimed, “Glorfindel has asked me for my hand in marriage!”

“Oh, Maerdess!” cried Losgael, and rushed to congratulate her friend. “I am so happy for you! Let me see the ring!”

Proudly, Maerdess held out the silver ring, showed it off and grinned from ear to ear. Tossing her dark hair over her shoulders, she gleefully told the other two ladies what had happened the night before. “He took me by the hand to the Kissing Chair, and we kissed. Then he told me he loved me – he has been telling me that for some time now, but this was in a different way. He seemed to be afraid – I have never seen him afraid before. He was like a puppy that brings you a stick and wants to be patted and told he has done well. Then he asked me to be his bride and put this onto my finger. See how well it fits! Is it not magnificent?”

“It is lovely, Maerdess,” said Celebrían. Losgael was not upset about this? Then why did she seem so lost?

“It is beautiful,” said Losgael. A wistful expression graced her face as she held Maerdess's hand and admired the ring. “Perhaps one day I will receive one of my own.”

“From the looks I have seen Lord Erestor give you, my dear,” said Maerdess, “it will not be long until you do. Ai! I am so excited! Tell no-one as yet. Glorfindel wishes to announce it tonight in the Hall of Fire.”

Celebrían smiled. “And how is it with you and Erestor, Losgael?” she asked solicitously.

“He kissed me last night, my lady, and now I find that the feelings I harboured for Lord Glorfindel are no longer at play in my mind. Now when I look upon him, he seems ordinary to me, like any other Elf. While he has an impressive lineage and history, the feelings I have for him now are similar to the ones I have for Lord Elrond. They are venerable Elves, worthy of admiration and praise, but that is all. I am in love with Erestor now.”

Relieved, Celebrían patted Losgael's arm. “I am glad you have found happiness, Losgael. Of all the Elf-ladies in Rivendell, you deserve it most.”

Maerdess stiffened, visibly uncomfortable.

“I am also glad for you, Maerdess,” added Celebrían, for you have shown that it is possible to rise from the ashes of a bad reputation to a greater height than before. Your good deeds and humble attitude have not gone unnoticed. Those bad rumours of you were few, fuelled by a bitter lady with ambition beyond her station. She, too, has changed her ways and is better and happier than before. Brethilgwen has found reasons to spend time with Anuhim the scribe, and he seems happy about it. My friends, I do not believe that any of this would have been possible without Losgael. That is why I said she deserved the most to be happy.”

Understanding dawned on Maerdess's face. “Indeed she does, for giving me my epessë has changed my life as well as my name. As Heneblhûndî, I was seen more as 'She-Who-Blunders' than as “Blue-eyed Lady,' but as Maerdess, I am blessed because I always feel the need to live up to my good name!”

The ladies giggled briefly at the puns, then hugged each other with glee.

Maerdess went quiet again. She looked at Celebrían, shy as a deer in the forest, and said in a quiet voice, “My lady, there is something I would ask of you.”

“What is it, Maerdess?” asked Celebrían.

Maerdess looked at the floor. “It is presumptuous of me to ask such a thing, my lady,” she said in reverential tones, “but there is no-one else to ask.” Raising her eyes to meet her lady's, she asked, “Would you and your esteemed husband stand in place of my parents when I wed with Glorfindel?”

“I would be delighted!” she replied. “I can imagine Arwen's excitement when she discovers there is going to be a wedding at Rivendell. She will insist on helping to make your wedding dress. Will you permit her?”

“I will,” said Maerdess, whose expression was that of one who had won a great prize. “If you would also help, Losgael...”

“I would be honoured,” Losgael told her. “Who will stand for Glorfindel?”

“Gildor Inglorion,” said Celebrían. “He is of the house of Finrod, whose father was Finarfin brother of Fingolfin, who was Turgon's father. Glorfindel's connection to Gondolin, where Turgon ruled, makes Gildor the most likely choice. As for the one who will stand in for his mother, I have a few candidates in mind. Glorfindel will make that choice for himself, though.”

TBC...