grundyscribbling

Title: Go Marching In
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Summary: Anariel's first formal entrance into Tirion.
Word Count: 1200
Note: This is the one I 'owed' from Monday. Today's is still in progress...

Anariel was more than a little dubious about this whole travelling circus, even before she caught sight of how many people were out on the streets of Tirion to watch the royal party’s formal entrance into the city.

The Noldor, in her opinion, had more than enough hobbies already. But apparently they could do with a few more if this many people could turn up on short notice to gawk. The numbers didn’t match the crowd that had been out in the square for the festival she’d attended incognito, but still far more than she thought their little group warranted.

This, darling, is actually a fairly small crowd.

She glanced at her grandmother Nerdanel.

If this was small, she was tall.

It is small by Tirion’s usual standards, Grandfather Arafinwë confirmed.

He didn’t say anything more, but she caught a wisp of curiosity about why that might be. He had expected a larger crowd.

Your theory that the Noldor never discovered chill is looking stronger by the minute, Elladan informed her.

Yes, we’re definitely seeing the virtues of your plan last time, Elrohir agreed. Surely they don’t do this every time!

Anariel didn’t care if they did, from now on, she’d be making low-key entrances. Even if that meant more nighttime travel, jumping wall,s and walking rooftops. This was ridiculous. Her brothers heartily agreed. No one had ever made this sort of fuss over their comings and goings in Imladris or Lothlorien.

Not only were the numbers a bit much, thanks to Slayer hearing, she was catching plenty of the talk from the crowd, and not all of it was complimentary. Uncle Ambarussa’s return was not approved by everyone.

If you’re holding out for universal popularity for any of us, pitya, I’m afraid you’ll have quite a long wait, Grandfather Arafinwë informed her. Even yourself! There’s a reason your grandmother Anairë fussed so over your wardrobe.

Anariel gave him a mental snort for what she thought of Tirion’s standards of modesty in their princesses’ clothing.

Oh, quite a few of them did enjoy your rather racy dress – as much because they could work out who had made it and whose it was as for the daring the cut. I wouldn’t worry. This crowd seems to be largely positive. Just let anything that isn’t go in one ear and out the other.

Anariel thought that was easier to manage when you couldn’t hear what the folks at the back of the crowd – far enough from the royals that they probably thought they wouldn’t be overheard – were saying.

Some of it was just silly – Huan’s presence in particular was inspiring more than a few wild theories.

We should have made him a sign, Elrohir snickered.

Guardian of the Line of Lúthien? Elladan suggested.

Approved babysitter, more like, Elrohir mused. I mean, he was doing his best to keep her out of trouble, too.

He would have been quite useful at the Morannon, Elladan added.

I really don’t think telling everyone Huan goes with the Line of Lúthien would help with some of the crazy stories already forming, Anariel told them. I mean, unless you want the city thinking you’re descendants of Celegorm…

She almost snickered at the mental reaction from both of them.

Unfortunately, that little exchange wasn’t enough to keep her from hearing some of the less amusing gossip happening in the back.

She glared at one particular offender, who had just voiced the opinion to his neighbor that while Uncle Ambarussa the Crispy was welcome back, Uncle Ambarussa the longer-lived hadn’t been particularly missed. (Yes, ok, he’d actually said Prince Telufinwë and Prince Pityafinwë, but still.)

It was rather satisfying to see the man in question go pale as he realized he was busted.

Anariel, her father said pointedly.

We’re just going to let them stand there and talk smack about Uncle Ambarussa?

You are going to behave yourself, Grandmother Nerdanel cut in firmly. And if no one has already told you, starting trouble by directly addressing any naysayers or tittle-tattlers is not behaving.

Anariel glared at the jerk again for good measure. Lucky for him she didn’t have her sun hairclip in today. She could make a very effective point with it.

And no ‘I did not technically attack anyone’ either, miss!

Aw, Nana!

Any weapons you have concealed on your person had better stay right where they are.

Anariel managed to paste a more or less neutral expression on her face before anyone else in the crowd could get the idea they were in trouble. Luckily for the original jerk, she had no idea who he was.

I believe Uncle Ambarussa do, though.

A sideways glance at her brother showed Elrohir had a pleasant social smile on his lips, but an absolutely wicked smirk in his eyes.

Shame it’s just Uncle Ambarussa here, she sniffed. That guy might deserve the whole Fearsome Foursome.

Pitya…

It was Grandfather Arafinwë talking, but she could feel the attention of multiple grandparents sharpening.

I’m behaving, I’m behaving!

And she did, more or less, the rest of the way to the palace. King’s House. Finwë’s House. Whatever the heck it was called here.

Just as well most of the crowd can’t tell how grumpy you are, Elladan observed. Otherwise you’d probably be starting rumors that we’re all feuding.

Or that you hate Tirion, Elrohir suggested. Or that you’re unhappy Uncle Ambarussa are back. Really, with the Noldor and gossip, who can tell?

There was that.

She’d been told some of the more inventive rumors about herself running wild in Tirion while she’d been in Lórien. A few had been as creative as they were wrong, and she’d had a good laugh about them. Creative and wildly incorrect, she could work with. But being mean about her family was another thing.

Cheer up, once we’re safely inside, you don’t have to deal with it again unless you want to, Elrohir told her quietly. I’m fairly sure Uncle Ambarussa have enough experience with Tirion to handle things for themselves.

I’m plenty cheerful!

The only part she was less than chipper about was having to come marching back to Tirion again so soon. She and Uncle Namo were going to have a word about timing.

I don’t think you can reasonably blame him for the Noldor having raised protocol and etiquette to art forms, Elladan sighed.

Still talking to him about it. Also, contemplating alternative places to be.

Alqualondë sounded nice this time of year. And if Tindomiel could get away with protoyping a hang glider without interference, no one should complain if she tried her hand at making a surfboard.

You will doubtless find my law-father a gleeful accomplice in that, pitya, Grandfather Arafinwë informed her. All the same, I would appreciate it if you ‘hung around’ as you call it for a week or two first.

She tried not to visibly sigh.

So many grandparents…

It was a relief when they finally entered the royal complex, and the gates closed firmly behind them.

I’ll hang out for a couple weeks as long as I get some quiet time now, she announced.

She didn’t wait around to find out if anyone meant to stop her.