grundyscribbling

Title: Busted
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Summary: Elwing has a talent Anariel was unaware of.
Word Count: 1050

Elwing woke early, and wondered why she had. By the light – starlight only, the moon had already set - it was still night. Eärendil wasn’t back yet. She’d have known if he was, and he only rarely arrived before sunrise.

Experience said there was no point trying to go back to sleep yet. It might still be dark, but it couldn’t be all that long until daybreak.

She shrugged into the nearest tunic, one in the Iathrin style, but didn’t bother with shoes. It was just coming into summer, and even winter nights here was not as chill as she’d been used to in Sirion.

The stones of the floor were warm beneath her feet as she padded into the kitchen, thinking to make herself a cup of tea. She was just filling the kettle when her eyes caught on the dock.

It was not empty.

And… she frowned. She’s always been able to tell, from childhood on, so she knows the second she lays eyes on the girl.

Grandmother, she said briskly.

Melian’s attention was on her at once – followed a moment later by Melian’s amusement at both her observation and her indignation.

No one has hidden anything from you, little one. No one else has noticed!

Elwing snorted. She still didn’t quite understand how most people managed to miss the perfectly obvious. Surely Galadriel…

Most people are not my line, Melian reminder her. Perhaps Galadriel allowed her relief that the girl had returned and would not be lost as Elros was to overshadow things that ought to have made her think.

Elwing supposed she could hardly fault Galadriel for that, or Celeborn either. Anariel had come back trailing mortals in her wake. (Though Elwing did think her uncle should have noticed. He’d dwelled in Menegroth for many years, and known Melian better than most.)

Galadriel would not have been the only one to worry. Elwing, though, should have realized the possibility, at the latest after she had learned what Tindomiel was capable of.

Was that always open to us? she asked.

Not that she would have chosen it – she and Eärendil had promised each other while they were young that they would not be parted, and that would have meant treading a path he could not follow.

Of course, Melian replied. Who could deny you if you asked it? Lúthien was my daughter, too, not Elu’s alone!

Elwing nodded almost absently as she considered the small blonde dangling her feet over the edge of the dock, apparently fascinated by something in the water below.

If Anariel has not told anyone, then she surely has some idea in mind – likely something she knew her elders would not approve of if they knew of it. This was the child that thought balrog hunting reasonable, after all.

Elwing barely noticed Melian withdrawing. She at least had already known, and not told anyone either. Elwing wasn’t sure whether to take that as a good sign or a bad sign. Her maia grandmother did not view the world as elves did, and might well see no issue where every other relative Anariel possessed would be shrieking protest.

Elwing approached carefully. She knew this granddaughter was not one to startle.

She was unsurprised that Anariel heard her coming and turned before she got within arm’s reach. Anyone else scrambling to their feet so hastily might have looked awkward. Elrond’s littlest moved as gracefully as if she were dancing.

Small wonder Celeborn had Oropher and the boys all abuzz about her. (Though Thranduil certainly hadn’t helped, with his claim that anyone who saw Lúthien only in Arwen hadn’t looked carefully enough at her younger sister.)

“Grandmother.”

The accent was what Elwing had been told was the everyday Lindarin of the late Third Age – what the girl had learned first and probably knew best. It sounded natural in her mouth, and Elwing had to work to keep the look of satisfaction off her face. (She has already heard about the sensation Anariel had caused in Tirion, as apparently her Noldorin sounds like she was taught by Fëanor himself. She’s curious to hear whether that had been on purpose, or if the girl simply hadn’t known the difference. Surely Elrond would have warned her?)

“Anariel.”

The hug was enthusiastic, not the least bit tentative. The girl was as tiny as Elwing had been repeatedly warned, yet it was still a surprise to find herself taller.

The girl was slightly damp already from the combination of sea breeze and morning dew, but a few minutes by the kitchen hearth would remedy that. And she suspected Anariel would not want to have her ask questions out in the open, where anyone might overhear – not that Elwing had noticed anyone else about, but one never knew.

“Eärendil won’t land for another hour at least, darling. Why don’t you come inside? We’ll wait for him to breakfast, but a cup of something warm perhaps?”

That got a smile and a nod that wasn’t quite shy. She might be brash as Elros in some respects, but Elwing suspected Anariel was her father’s daughter and happy to see her family happy. Tindomiel was much the same.

Anariel was polite enough not to let her head swivel around like a small child as they went in, but Elwing could see her glancing around in curiosity. When they reached the kitchen, she declined tea, but accepted hot chocolate cheerfully. Elwing silently thanked Tindomiel for teaching her the making of it, and spared a thought for the mortal Tara who’d brought chocolate to Aman in the first place.

Elwing waited until they’d both had a warming – and calming – sip before she asked.

“Maia, little one?”

The spluttering that ensued was slightly gratifying and very amusing. Elwing suppressed a regret she’d never seen her older son at this age – she suspected he’d have reacted just the same.

But she kept her composure and waited while Anariel visibly calculated, with a slight trace of guilt in her eyes, how exactly she might talk her way out of this.

“Take your time, darling,” Elwing suggested, taking another sip of her tea. “Just not too long. Unless, of course, you want Eärendil to hear the explanation as well. But I had the impression you didn’t want all and sundry knowing.”