12 Days of Christmas 1 - The Visit
Dec. 25th, 2023 03:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grundyscribblingAuthor: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Summary: Elrond pays a much-delayed visit to someone he has missed for several Ages.
Word Count: 1950
Elrond did his best to convey a mute apology with his eyes.
This was not what he’d intended when he set out this morning. But things had snowballed a bit, to borrow one his daughters’ California phrases.
He hadn’t gotten a chance to exchange more than a few quick words with Pelendur after Anariel, Elladan, and Elrohir’s presentation at court. He feared the words he had found in those hurried moments before he needed to return to his family hadn’t been adequate for the occasion. He still wasn’t used to these unannounced reunions, even if he was thankful for every single one of them.
Pelendur hadn’t just had a major hand in raising him, the man had kept him alive in the last assault. If it weren’t for him, there would be no Anariel, Elladan, and Elrohir. (Also, no Arwen, and no Tindomiel.)
Elrond hadn’t even known Pelendur had returned from the Halls before he’d turned up in the small group ensuring Anariel actually arrived on time where she was meant to be.
He hadn’t known at the time he’d spoken to Pelendur for the first time in two Ages that the man would have gone quietly off again without even coming inside if Anariel hadn’t all but baited him into it. That knowledge had come courtesy of his uncle, who had been thankful for what he termed ‘reinforcements with experience herding peredhil’. (Elrond had been mildly amused to hear the differing versions of the journey from Grandmother Nerdanel’s. In Anariel’s telling, the escort had been over the top and needed only in so far as she hadn’t actually known where she was going.)
Concern for his children had kept him busy for the next few weeks. Had he been asked, he would not have been in favor of bringing them to Tirion so quickly after Anariel’s arrival. Unfortunately, neither his grandmother nor his daughter had actually asked. Anairë had assumed, and Anariel had decided to add her own wrinkle to a plan he hadn’t been consulted on.
But Elrond had very much not forgotten about Pelendur.
Now that the festival was safely over – and Tirion had gotten a second glimpse of Anariel, an occasion that had provided a more accurate picture of her than her trying (in her mind, at least) to hurry from one grandparent’s house to another – and there were plenty of additional relatives around, he had hoped he might take the opportunity for a quiet afternoon visit.
That had been the theory. He had reckoned without his children taking an interest.
It started with the boys, who had spotted him on his way to the stable gate and asked where he was off to.
His answer had only piqued their curiosity. It turned out they hadn’t really had a chance to speak to the man for more than a moment or two, but that had been long enough to deduce that Pelendur had the sort of stories all Elrond’s children adored hearing about his childhood.
Elrond didn’t know if his sons had told her, or if Anariel had just been nearby and come to find out what was going on, but he found himself with three of his children insistent that they wanted to come visiting too.
Then Anariel told Tindomiel, which meant Tinu and Maeglin attached themselves to the party.
At this point, there was a large enough group that the Inglorions had noticed. Arador and Anariel weren’t quite inseparable, but if she was going adventuring, he wanted in, and Gilrod had turned up to see where the twins were off to.
Elrond silently asked Gildor to join them – he could wrangle his own children, but someone else needed to mind the young Inglorions. Gildor, after a good laugh, joined them with Artalissë in tow on her best behavior lest she be excluded.
Elrond had been thankful that Mírimë and Glorfindel’s daughters were occupied elsewhere. He was still more thankful that Mirifinwë happened across them just before they set out, from the front gate rather than the discreet stable exit he had originally had in mind.
Several ages of dealing with first Elrond and Elros, then Elrond’s household, and eventually his children kept Mirifinwë Erestor from laughing at Elrond’s predicament, but Elrond could tell it was a very near thing.
Thankfully, Miryo was somewhat more help than Gildor, impressing on what was by now a rather high-spirited party that decorum was essential if such a large number of young royals were going to move through Tirion. (Unexpectedly, Anariel was the most sedate of the bunch.)
Elrond had been sorely tempted to ask his youngest daughter to expedite their travel, but he realized that trick would only put off the inevitable. At some point, the younger set of Noldorin princes would be set loose on Tirion, with or without adult supervision. It was probably best for everyone if they eased into it with at least one parent present.
Despite all the young people involved behaving themselves, there was no way to move through the city without attracting attention. A dozen Finwions was impossible to overlook, and the Noldor loved both novelty and gossip. Elrond’s party was the most exciting thing to happen since Anariel’s antics during the festival. (And with Anariel out and about again, the enticing prospect of further antics beckoned beguilingly…)
It didn’t occur to Elrond until he saw the complete astonishment on the face of the servant who opened the door of Pelendur’s parents’ house that while it might have been acceptable for one prince to turn up unannounced, it would have been advisable to send a note of warning before the current group arrived.
He had been here several times before, to visit Pelendur’s parents. He had told them of their son’s life in Beleriand, assured them that he had conducted himself with honor, and mentioned several times that he credited Pelendur for keeping him alive to see the Third Age.
He supposed it was fitting they see what their son’s sacrifice had made possible – even if it came as something of a surprise.
Pelendur’s parents looked shocked to find themselves hosting so many princes of the Noldor. Pelendur himself looked to be suppressing amusement.
Pelendur’s mother was rather alarmed at lacking chairs enough for all the young royals to sit, and didn’t quiet any when several – Anariel among them – cheerfully seated themselves on the floor to save her any bother.
It was at this point that Elrond tried his best to convey to Pelendur by expression alone that he recognized the error of his ways.
Fortunately, he was not the only one who had realized that Pelendur’s poor parents were a bit overwhelmed by their visitors.
His sons engaged Pelendur’s younger sister Almarë in conversation, and she agreed to show them her work. Anariel, Arador, Artalissë, and Gilrod joined that group. Maeglin deftly drew Pelendur’s mother out of her embarassment with technical questions about the dyes she was known for, and shortly thereafter, he and Tinu were shown to her office where there were apparently several interesting experiments underway. (Tinu was doing an excellent job of feigning interest, and speaking animatedly to Pelendur’s father.)
Pelendur waited until the door closed behind them to speak.
“Here I thought it a challenge managing just you and your brother!”
Elrond laughed ruefully.
“I’m sure we were a handful.”
“Yes, but you were only two. You have four, a son-in-law, and seem to have volunteered to wrangle Inglorions to boot – not an assignment to be taken lightly.”
“They came because they didn’t want to miss out on anything interesting,” Elrond explained before Gildor could start. “And two of the three younger ones are fast friends with my children.”
“What’s your excuse?” Pelendur asked Gildor.
“I just wanted to let you know you could call on my father at any time to read him that long list of things you threatened to tell him I’d gotten up to over the years,” Gildor grinned. “Assuming you actually remember all of them, that is. I’m sure he’d enjoy the accounting, even if my mother may be less thrilled about it. Also to warn you that Anariel is much worse than Elros.”
Miryo snorted.
“Still the only sensible one in this travelling circus, Erestor?” Pelendur said drily.
“I go by Mirifinwë these days,” Miryo answered. “Which I think does not surprise you as much as it did the rest of us.”
“I may not have known your name,” Pelendur shrugged, “but it was fairly obvious whose son you were.”
“Yet you never said?” Elrond asked in surprise.
He had wondered, in retrospect. Maybe not all of the retainers who had accompanied him and his brother to Balar had recognized him, but Pelendur and Handelon at the least must have.
“I did not know the reasons his father name was never given, so I held my tongue,” Pelendur explained.
“I had no father name to give until I reached Tirion,” Miryo said, evidently surprised that others had simply assumed he knew.
“I am sorry to hear it. Though given how Middle-earth thought of your father, I cannot say I am sorry to not have spoken. I do not know that it would have done you any favors to be known to all as Prince Morifinwë’s son. As it was, you were easy enough to look after given how you generally kept close to Gil-galad or this one.”
Though Pelendur appeared deeply chagrined to have left ‘Erestor’ in ignorance, Elrond was privately certain it would not have helped had he told them. Celebrimbor had not had any part of the Oath, but that hadn’t spared him much. Elrond couldn’t find it in him to be sorry that Miryo had been allowed to chart his own course as best as anyone could in the late First Age. He suspected his uncle felt the same.
“I had my family around me, that was enough,” Miryo said firmly.
“I was disappointed we had no real chance to speak the day the children were presented to the Noldaran,” Elrond said, trying to steer the conversation to less fraught topics. “I was hoping to catch up with you today, but I had not anticipated such a following…”
He aimed a mild glare at Gildor and Miryo, but neither of them were bothered in the least.
“I am sorry we descended on your parents in such numbers. I fear we’ve upset your mother in particular.”
“Fear not, she’ll recover,” Pelendur assured him. “It may take a day or two, but she’ll bounce back once she realizes the honor of having so many of the young royals visit, and that they all are now known to her on a first name basis.”
Elrond chuckled. There was that. He doubted very many people were going to be told or even allowed to address his daughter as ‘Princess Anariel’. Certainly not Pelendur or his kin.
“Perhaps you might come to visit while we are staying here in Tirion?” Elrond said hopefully. “If not, you would be very welcome in Imlanthiriath. As would your family, of course.”
“What he’s hinting at so delicately,” Gildor clarified, “is that if you aren’t minded to stay here in Tirion, you can always move there. There’s plenty of room in his new valley, and it’s a good deal calmer than Imladris.”
“You say that as if Anariel has had time to settle in,” Miryo muttered. “Calm is not often found in her vicinity.”
“There’s no balrogs or dragons here,” Gildor snorted. “How much trouble can she get into?”
Elrond was heartened to realized Pelendur joined him and Miryo in glaring at Gildor.
“Have you learned nothing about peredhil in three Ages, Inglorion?” Pelendur demanded wearily.
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Date: 2023-12-25 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-01-02 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-12-25 11:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-01-02 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-12-26 02:55 am (UTC)Here’s hoping you and your family had a wonderful Christmas!
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Date: 2024-01-02 02:48 am (UTC)(Though he would probably have stern words with me about the Celegorm thing.)