Chapter One – A New City
The daily market of Ost-in-Edhil bustled at every hour of the morning. Colorful stalls filled the great square, spilling out into the surrounding environs. A diversity of kindreds and cultures flowed together with remarkable peace in a new city where the corners of the cut-stone buildings were still sharp and the steel-bound wooden gates still fragrant with the scent of the trees.
Sellers of a surprising variety of wares, goods, and produce enthusiastically enticed the swirling throng of elf, man, and dwarf to buy. Bright, clamorous speech and lively hucksters’ songs rang out from every direction. Enticing aromas and strains of music swirled through the air. An ever-changing combination of sights, shouts, and scents rolled over the eager shoppers in waves, lifting up a normal day into a buoyant fair. Even when swept into narrow places and forced to slowly eddy around, the crowd was cordial, ready with laughter rather than curses, for there was much mithril to spend and it was actually safe to walk the streets with it.
Glamien, with Celebrian in tow, and the two vigilant guards escorting the nanny and little princess walked leisurely through the congested alley of the corn vendors. Some of the people bowed as they passed, but all stepped around them, not expecting the little party to move aside for anyone.
Glamien’s destination was the stall at the end of block. As had become usual, she would buy a half-measure of the fine-milled grain. Certainly, the cereal for sale there was the very best available short of the Ivonwin. However, what she really came for most every day was, in her opinion, the very best gossip found in the city. This was always her first stop before going about any other shopping. She never knew how long she might be talking and did not wish to stand around holding packages nor unkindly burdening her escort when she had one.
Eventually, the four came up to the busy booth and Glamien exchanged pleasant greetings with Elrach, the proprietor. He finished seeing to his current customer then turned to her, leaving his son who worked with him most days to look after the other insistent customers who had been waiting long before Glamien had arrived.
Elrach was one of the first friends Glamien had made upon arriving with the Lady Galadriel and the remainder of the Lord and Lady’s household almost a year ago. The Lord Celeborn had come to Eregion nine years before. Though ever eager for his wife and daughter to join him, Galadriel had been hesitant. At first, she insisted that Celebrian was too young and she, not Celebrimbor’s folly, needed her mother’s attention. Then she had worried that the city was not safe enough for their precious child. Often Celeborn had journeyed to visit them in Lórínand, though he had to travel through the dwarves’ realm – and rely on their king’s good will towards the master smith – to do so. Only last summer, Amroth Amdirion had personally delivered them into the joyful Lord’s arms. After hearing Elrach’s harrowing stories of the violence in the earlier years of the colony, Glamien was glad they had waited so long.
The elegant city that Celebrimbor planned had been impossible for him to build, much less hope to manage, before seeking the aid of Celeborn and Galadriel. The master smith who dreamed of a new Gondolin was neither a ruler nor a governor. Yet Gil-galad gave him the royal warrant he asked for. Most reasonably assumed it to be repayment of a political favor; not an award for past lordship. So it all went out of Celebrimbor’s control when the news spread of the discovery of a mithril mother lode in Khazad-Dûm. Chaos reigned while the Brotherhoods and Guilds the master smith had invited to help build his colony vied for control, exploiting the absence of royalty and taking advantage of Celebrimbor’s inexperience. All desired for themselves alone the incredible wealth and power that was to be had. The worst sorts of brigands were drawn by the promise of easy riches. Bandits terrorized the few passable roads. Pirates stalked the rivers. Gangs raided farms and burned homes. Whoever they did not run off was forced into labor or to pay ransom. Among elves, men, and dwarves alike, there was rampant theft and even cold-blooded murder, but little justice. What was meant to be a glorious capital was naught but the myriad armed camps of hostile factions.
Celebrimbor rightfully appealed to Gil-galad who did send troops, but their commanders became corrupted and the lawlessness continued. In desperation, Celebrimbor journeyed to Amdir’s realm to beseech his old friends and an ‘arrangement’ was made. Celeborn returned with Celebrimbor and order was at last brought to Eregion. The army was cleansed. Would-be rulers were put in their places. Trade routes were made safe. Peace was enforced. Decent folk who cared more about making a good living rather than stacking up silver were welcomed and protected. Construction was begun on the city. The Lady came to grace the new realm with her beauty and glory. What had been a sorry failure for four decades became a great success in one. Every farmer, herder, and forester and every merchant, craftsman, and artisan knew who had been given rule of the colony, but also knew who was actually ruling their lives. The common people gratefully paid respect to all three rulers of Eregion, those nobles present cooperated, and the High King wisely did not interfere.
Glamien admired Elrach and his family for surviving through it all. Having come from Lórinand, she had never experienced that kind of turmoil. Instability and social upheaval frightened her in a way orcs did not.
For his part, Elrach had enjoyed Glamien’s company from their first conversation. She was of the better sort of people that had started coming to what he considered his city and her visit was a highlight of his day. She was always eager to listen while he spoke of goings-on unafraid, unlike in the past. She would remark sagely, only sometimes asking a question, and shared in his amusement at other people’s follies. No one had known that she was a familiar of the rulers’ household until the first time she brought darling little Celebrian with her. Now Elrach also enjoyed the cachet Glamien’s patronage carried as well as her interesting - yet always discrete – tidbits about life with the Lord and Lady.
The two friends completed their loose ritual of chatting about the weather and the day’s offerings for a few minutes before lowering their voices and getting down to their real business.
“Alas, times are too good,” said Elrach, pleased that he could say that. “I’ve not much to tell today. The tiff between the stone-cutters and masons has been settled. That entertainment is over. My youngest grandson has lost his first tooth and that’s not very thrilling after three other boys. So where do you take the heryn tithen today?”
Celebrian patiently held onto the cord around her nanny’s waist just as she was supposed to. She was content for the time being, sucking on a half of dried pear and watching the different people go by. The guards for the day, Nítmilrû and Faunaur, stood in the way of anyone who might accidentally bump into their charges or get close enough to be rude. She liked being out even if she had to quietly stay with her nîni. Later they might walk through the Glad Edreb where there were nice trees and people would give her little toys and favors.
“We’ll be goin’ quite far,” answered Glamien. “All the way to the new tailor’s street to get her a ready-made slipover for play. She’s ‘bout outgrown this one as you can see.”
“Aye, in fact I’d say she’s ready to sprout up. Though it’ll be quite a long while yet ere she catches up to her parents’ stature.” Elrach winked at Glamien to let her know that he knew the child was listening though she did not show it. Glamien smiled very proud of the princess she had cared for since newborn.
She had begun to bring the lass along with her lately and was quite pleased with her conduct. The child slowed down her nanny’s progress, but did not tire quickly and then have to be taken back before the trip was over. She was very good about keeping hold of the looped cord around Glamien’s waist so that she would not get lost or occupy her nanny’s hands. Unlike most children, this one never needed to be told to do something over and over again. It was as if she clearly understood the reason for a rule and thought it a good idea that she would adopt for her own sake. However beneath that seemingly compliant nature, Celebrian was a guileful child who could at times be quite stubborn. She obeyed her parents. Her nanny she obeyed more or less out of habit. Anyone else’s orders she might or might not choose to tolerate.
Glamien felt a sharp tug on the cord and excused herself to Elrach. “What is it, hên?”
She did not point, as she had been instructed by her naneth that it was impolite. Instead she looked over at a dark-haired fellow leaning against the wall of the bakery shop on the corner, then back to Glamien, then back to the fellow once more. It was obvious this strange elf was watching her.
Glamien knew that Celebrian did not like being stared at and certainly not by someone so suspicious-looking. He was not very tall, quite strong-looking, and dressed in brown and green forest-dweller garb. His features were of a common cast, except for grey-green eyes. His plain bow was heavy like a Galadhrim’s and almost as tall as he. A hithlain cloak was thrown back from a plain tunic, no undershirt. He wore a quiver, rather raddled, and a slim blanket roll slung across his chest with a small pouch and stone knife on a loose belt. His fitted leggings smoothly covered the tops of soft, simple shoes and neither had any visible laces.
“He’s Laiquendi,” Elrach informed her. “There’s a band of them gone down the street earlier looking for plain waybread and lembas. ‘Twas nothing remarkable about them. Though you ne’er see many this side of Tharbad.”
“You didn’t think them worthy of mention?”
“No,” he replied looking puzzled at her concern.
“What’s he waiting there for?” Her greater concern was that Elrach had forgotten about them until he was asked.
“Who knows? Them to come back. You two maybe?” He spoke in a conspiratorial whisper and comically raised his eyebrows, implying his friend’s worry was silly. Instead of relaxing, Glamien became more irritated. She stared back at the looker-on who did not turn way.
The green-elf made a slight movement with his shoulders and Glamien caught a glint off the handle of a long knife tucked beneath his quiver. She was sure that he had revealed it on purpose. Celebrian pulled down heavily on the cord, almost hanging on it.
Glamien had been summarily ordered to not chance anything untoward concerning Celebrian. Her parents had personally assured her that they would uphold any precaution she took. So she turned to Faunaur, the senior guard, and causally said, ”Have him arrested.”
The guard had been paying close attention and knew exactly whom she meant. He waved over a civil patrolman and gave him some instructions - the last of which was to remove the fellow to the barad-tir for questioning. The patrolman and his partner approached the Nando and took hold of him. He protested then, after listening to them, obviously decided to cooperate. They all walked off in the direction of the Aradeib; the green-elf glancing back at them only once.
Glamien bent down to Celebrian’s ear. “See, lisillë. The bad eledh is gone.”
Celebrian nodded her head in agreement and resumed sucking on her piece of fruit; her hand a sticky mess. She looked at her níni with happy eyes and smiled sweetly. Then she was distracted, as were many others, when a small, fluffy dog suddenly started excitedly barking at something or someone. Its sparkling silver leash fringed with tiny bells made a clamorous jingle as the animal struggled to be let down from its flustered master’s arms. People all around turned to look and laugh.
Though she gave no outward sign, Glamien could tell the child wanted very much to play with the dog. The owner was familiar to her by sight as a neighborhood denizen. Elrach had spoken fair of him. Since the day’s news was trivial, she closed their conversation. With a knowing grin about dogs and children, Elrach exchanged her regular purchase for her newly minted coin, making a little show of it.
“Thank you very much, maerves! You’ve bought the very best and anyone here will tell you so!” announced Elrach. Not stopping any work at hand, his son and also his neighboring boothmen automatically raised a loud “Yea!” at his prompt. Without turning around to look, Elrach flipped the shiny copper piece high up into the air and it landed squarely with a sharp chink in the change basket behind him.
Unimpressed and forcing herself to politely smile, Glamien thanked him again and handed the small sack to Nítmilrû. Faunaur hovered over her shoulder as she took the child over to the dog’s elegant master who, having gotten his canine under control, was honored to introduce himself and very happy to present his pet to the princess. Celebrian greatly enjoyed having the friendly dog lick her hand clean, laughing merrily to the delight of every passer-by.
While the little princess was cheerfully playing with the dog, a patrolman came up to Faunaur. Glamien saw that Nítmilrû was keeping a good eye on Celebrian, so she turned her attention to what was being said by the patrolman.
“The Annon-torthmo says they left by the east gate and all points are alerted to detain them if they return.”
“Good. But, I doubt they shall. From all appearances he was just a drifter. Thank you. That is all.” The peace officer went after a polite nod in Glamien’s direction. Faunaur moved to stand beside her.
“There is no need to return if you wish to go on,” he said to her. “He was probably just curious about her.” He grinned and added, “Or flirtin’ with you.”
Glamien was not in a mood to joke. The look she gave in response to his teasing set the guard back on his heels. “We’ll go on,” she said flatly.
Celebrian’s parents wanted their daughter to have some time away from the heap everyone called a palace and yet be safe. It did not please Glamien that everyone else, even their guards, seemed to think the child needed no protection at all.
Could none believe that there might be someone - some dangerous fool - unafraid of the Lord and Lady’s wrath? Someone for whom the prospect of a stupendous ransom could overcome both reason and fear? Or worse, some mad monster given to perversion determined to grab her for his prize? Being of a very practical sort, Glamien was satisfied that this particular threat had been well removed. But, there would be a next time. She cared not that the green-elf might just have been a curious fool. If that proved true and she ever saw him again... well, maybe then she would apologize... and then again, maybe not.
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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!
Celebrian, Sell i Nos Galadhad – Celebrian, Daughter of the House of the Trees
Celebrian’s date and place of birth is not recorded. However, it appears that the first time Elrond truly sees her as a woman is at Imladris. So she was probably born after 650 Second Age and not in Lindon or Eriador else the two would have met as adults before Eregion was settled.
Galadriel is said to have brought with her to Lórien mallorn seeds given to her by Gil-galad, which were a gift from Tar-Aldarion. The first Numenorean ships landed in Mithlond around 600 Second Age. Galadriel and Celeborn could have left for the east anytime after that year. It is also said that the trees did not take root in Lindon and “did not reach the height or girth of the great groves of Númenor”. So, it probably took considerable time and care to grow the trees of the Golden Wood.
Ost-in-Edhil was founded in 750 Second Age. However, Eregion is said to be settled by Celebrimbor, by Celeborn & Galadriel, and by all three as early as 700 Second Age.
Lórinand – Valley of Gold (Lorien), a later name for Lindóriand, Vale of the Singers (the Lindar), Amdir’s realm where Lenwë’s people, the Nandor, originally settled. This realm extended along both sides of the Anduin river valley, down to Fangorn and up past Amon Lanc until the establishment of Oropher’s own realm which encompassed the Greenwood. Lothlorien was originally only a principality within Lorinand.
Laiquendi/Laegrim – Green-elves of Ossiriand, the realm of Denethor, son of Lenwë, in Beleriand. Denethor migrated with his followers to Beleriand after the Nandor had been settled in Lindoriand for some time. The green-elves are wood-elves just like the Silvan whose forbearers are also the Nandor.
Ivonwin – Yavannildi, the maidens of Yavanna who grow the lembas corn
maerves – good woman, goodwife
heryn tithen – little princess
hên – child
naneth/nana – mother/mom
barad-tir – watch tower, guard house
Aradeib – Royal Houses, headquarters/government buildings/City Hall
lisillë / lisullë – sweetie diminutive of sweet, fem./masc. Quenya - Galadriel’s endearment for her daughter
eledh – an older word for elf
Glad Edreb– Open Forest PublicPark
Annon-torthmo – great-gate controller Gate-keeper
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Chapter Two – A Quiet Cell
Hrassa sat on his heels, waiting, back against the wall with his arms resting across his knees; staring, awake in a deep dream.
He had been in the small, barred cell since morning and the sunny day was waning into a glowing evening. It appeared that he might have been forgotten. With that dull thought intruding, his mind slid away from restful stillness to reconsidering his present situation.
There had been no interrogation. The only question asked was for a name. Then, they just locked him up and left. No one since. The only other cell, the one across from his, was still empty. Not that being incarcerated here, alone or otherwise, was a hardship. He had been given fresh bread when they put him in. The cell was dry and swept; its air fresh. There was a clean blanket, a water jar, and covered bucket. He liked being out of the direct sun. The stone walls did make the cell a little cave-like. Too much stone was the problem with Golda cities in general. Not enough trees or plants and a ‘park’ did not make up for it.
A huge blowfly flew in through the high, grated window; its green-burnished body flashing in the fading light. Not the sort of visitor Hrassa was hoping for. The fly dipped through the cell bars and noisily circled the foyer of the small cellblock before flying around the corner, disappearing down the hallway. It would be back for there was no exit that way, only the shut door into the outer corridor.
If it were one of his former traveling companions in here, the poor fellow would by now have gone mad to get out, yelling for his keepers. He silently sighed. Perhaps he should have stayed with the company instead of hanging back. But having caught a glimpse of the child, he simply could not help himself. She looked so like the Rîn at that age. With that silvery hair, she had to be Elmoi. Though from the way she was dressed, very likely the pampered doll of a Noldor lord with a Sindar lady wife. A Nandor mother would never have dressed her in those clothes whatever her husband’s wishes.
The fly came back as expected. It flew straight to him and buzzed annoyingly around his head. Be gone, pest! It veered away to land on the rim of the bucket, tasting for food.
Just what was it had brought him to Eregion in the first place? Simply drifting with the company, he had not been allowed a vote about coming here. It was they who wanted to come see things for themselves. Though not, as claimed, out of concern that Úmanyar were being oppressed. The Lord and Lady were here now and they would certainly prevent that sort of thing just as they had taking up rule in Harlindon. No, it was more for the entertainment then anything else. Admittedly, his own condemnable curiosity had lured him out of the forest.
The fly began scuttling around, flicking its wings. Whether it was excited or frustrated he could not tell.
Why did it comfort him so much to know that the Lord and Lady were doing well? Until now, he had not thought of the lass as a means to approach them. But, he must suppose if she really were Elmoi that she would be near to them in some way. Her family might even belong to Celeborn and Galadriel’s household. They liked having children, especially kin, around them.
The fly had become very still, tensely poised on the side of the bucket as if trying to decide its next course of flight.
How had he gotten himself arrested anyway? He might easily have left without ever having seen the child. Still, he had seen her. And once again, he was pitiably intrigued and drawn in by the ineffable nature of Lindi royalty. After so long being separated from it, he had thought to be over this weakness or at least able to resist. But, the sight of her had suddenly caused him to remember Beleriand... Ossiriand, the way it once was, wide ranging and open... how he had gladly served with the nothrim among Denethor’s warriors... left Amon Ereb half alive... then came to serve Nimloth when she was made their Rîn.
The fly lazily launched off and left the cell by the way it had come in.
Maybe he should not have offered his friendship so quickly. The child had seemed unafraid when he made eye-contact with her. The nursemaid, despite obviously being Silvan, had taken it as some kind of insult. How could she have possibly misunderstood his earnest gesture? Yet here is where he had ended up. Still, had he not done his punishment for any small trespass by now?
There was a subtle shift in the air and he knew the door onto the corridor had been stealthily opened. Then closed. Someone was coming down the hallway toward the cellblock. Someone trying to very quiet. Barefooted... small... wearing a skirt. He smiled. It had to be her, come to get another look at him. The little ruschên! What if she had gotten him arrested on purpose? He broke into a wide grin at the possibility then quickly hid his amusement behind a blank face. She was trying to peek around the corner without being seen.
“So,” he spoke clearly, making sure to sound unthreatening. “The huntress has finally come to inspect her prey.” Come and look for I cannot harm you.
She hesitated, considering what to do. Then she stepped in from the hall and stopped still before his cell, feet together with her shoes held behind her, making certain to stand out of his reach through the bars. His breath was taken away. In the twilight of the dimming prison, the little lass he had beheld in the over-bright daylight stood revealed as the child princess she truly was.
She was dressed in an exquisitely made formal court gown of snow-drop white and butterfly-hued blue with a frost line of silver trim. Her shining starlight hair was made up in Lindon fashion; unbraided and loosely gathered with glittery combs and pins, tumbling down her back. Soft tendrils like broken spider’s silk floating around her face. Her large eyes were like pieces of smooth, polished jade, glowing from within. She wore no circlet. She did not need it such was the grace upon her brow. Seen like this, she bore an astounding resemblance to Nimloth, made more splendid by light petal-pink skin. Her countenance was one of shy wisdom. He was right. No doubt about it. She was Elmoi.
Once over her monumental decision to come out in plain view, she examined him with unbounded curiosity. Peering at him through the bars, she tilted her head this way and that, trying to discern something of his nature.
As always he was curious too. Who were her parents? Were they from Harlond and someone he might already know? How had she kept him here – isolated – until she was able to sneak away and visit him? To find out, he first had to get a conversation going.
“Shall I stand for the lady?” he asked. I am at your command.
She became wary, straightening her head and shoulders thoughtfully.
“Yes,” she replied, affecting the tone and manner of a high-born, adult lady. “Stand up so that I may see you better.” He nearly burst out laughing. It had been an age since he had had an encounter with such absurd aristocratic airs. And now from such a precocious child! He stood and came closer to the separating bars. I am at your mercy. He extended his arms, putting out his empty hands, and turned around twice.
“Is the lady pleased or shall I be discarded back into the wild?” Her reply startled him.
“You are a poor specimen. Better to feed you to the hounds than let you out to weaken the herd.” His face must have betrayed him for she immediately relented. “Oh no, I didn’t mean it!” She was honestly distressed for having scared him, not necessarily for what she had said. However, his shock had not come directly from her. The Rîn had once said almost the same thing to him and he suddenly remembered all the stranger stories he had heard about Mandos. Not that he actually believed any of those stories about being reborn. He had personally known people returned from the dead. They were themselves, not likenesses.
“Please my lady, I hope so!” Since she had lowered her defenses too, he decided to try for a hit of his own. “Were you any other... “ He made a vague, helpless gesture. “Well, then I might have known ‘twas only teasing and not taken such a fright. But my lady is Elmoi and your kindred speak ever truthfully.” He bowed his head to her.
“I am Celebrian, not this Elmoi,” she haughtily corrected, somehow looking down her nose at him despite her short height. “Are you mad or zany that you think I am someone else?” He fell dumb at this. She had no understanding at all of what he had just said about her!
He could not think of what next to say. Had the girl been intentionally deprived of her heritage? Even a Noldo would proud to claim his child to be of Nos Elmo if he could. Something was amiss and his curiosity, as usual, prompted his tongue. He impulsively decided to reveal his true name and give due respect to his heritage.
“My name is Hrassa.” That felt surprisingly good to say. It had been a long time since he had been himself and not just given out a name to go by. “I beg your pardon if I was mistaken.” Then he bowed as one should upon introduction.
“That’s a Laiquendi name!” The little princess’s face brightened even more with delight. She dropped all affectations and became an excited child. “You say it differently, but I know what it means! Cliff!” She was not precisely correct, but he was impressed all the same. Then more impressed when her language changed from elegant Sindarin to a lilting Nandorin dialect, her accent reminiscent of the Doriathrim.
“So you really are Laegrim?! I’ve never met a real green-elf before! I’m Galadhrim from Lórínand. Are you from Harlindon or Emyn Uial? Our house is in a tree, is yours? Or have you only a talan? But in the north, don’t you get cold in the winter when you sleep? Do you ever sleep or are you always awake?” Her words spilled out so quickly he barely got all she was saying and he was hard put to keep up with his answers. To be able to converse with her in his native tongue was unexpected fun.
“... you’re the first real Galadhrim I’ve met... I have no home... I’ve been awake for more than a fortnight, but have been longer... I do like to sleep when I can... ”
“My gwador says even a wood-elf has to sleep sometime. You heard me come in, didn’t you! And I was being ever so quiet! Why are you here?”
“... your gwador is right... you were very quiet... ”
He found himself once again uncertain what to say. Her simple question asked so much. How should he explain his lack of destination? His trust in fate and the natural course of things? What was the best answer for a young child? Just the facts, of course.
“... I was wandering with a company and I thought you looked like someone I knew... ”
“A wanderer! Where have you been to? Have you seen the sea? Who did you think I was? Oh yes, Elmoi! Does she have hair like mine? Sometimes people say I look like my naneth. But they’re just toadies because I don’t, not really.”
“... yes, I’ve seen the sea... the Elmoi are many people, not just one person... a few have your color but also golden or very black... ” He was enjoying watching her almost bounce with every new thought that came into her head. Like a flittery, little bird suddenly come to perch on a branch close-by. Only he must not reach for it lest he scare it away.
“Oh, like Lindi, I see! Where do Elmo and his tribe live? My ada’s grandfather has that name too. So does Master Apsaron’s brother’s wife’s father. He thinks he’s a funny fellow, but he’s not. Master Apsaron is much funnier. Lord Halanco had a white horse called Elmo, but he doesn’t have it anymore. I think it died.”
“... no, not a tribe, but a small clan – like a very big family... the Galadhrim are a tribe... ” She was so charming! Surely, she knew this about herself. But not the reason why? “I’ve heard of the Golden Wood where your people dwell... who’s your ada and nana?”
She abruptly stopped chattering and looked at him as if he was indeed crazy... or stupid. What had he said wrong?
The door to the corridor thudded open. They both gasped with surprise and turned to face the hallway. A voice called out for her. A voice he immediately recognized.
“RÍANEG!”
The little princess jumped, her clutched slippers leaping out. She swiftly put on her shoes. Backing up a few steps, she took on the pose of a demure maiden; her hands gracefully folded in front of her, head level, eyes downcast. Hrassa despaired of her tactic. That’s not going to save you!
Celeborn, resplendent in the court clothes of a high lord, shimmering grey and glimmering white, strode into cellblock with great determination, followed meekly by the jailer with his clanking keys and disheveled ledger. Upon seeing the Lord’s face, Hrassa relaxed – relieved. Celeborn was not intending to do anyone bodily harm as might be feared from the threat in his voice. Hrassa knew all too well what that kind of determination looked like. Still there was small chance of the little princess getting away unpunished. Unless he helped her.
Well, he would help her and find out how it was that, if she were a member of the Lord and Lady’s household, she knew not her rightful legacy. Fate had them cross paths and he would yield to that. Considering everything, he might be serving himself as much as her. He spoke instinctively as he stepped up to the bars, grasping them, his face looking out between.
“Caun-anim.” Seeing Celeborn’s troubled eyes when he turned to look, Hrassa was stung by the unexpected hurt he saw he had caused.
The Lord drew a quick breath and held it. “Hrassa? ‘Tis you?” He ever so slightly shook his head in denial. ... but, you’re dead ... Hrassa clearly heard that thought and for a heartbeat felt what Celeborn felt. Rarely did he hear another’s precise thoughts and he knew it had happened only by the Lord’s power, not his small abilities. But, he would have gladly have missed this occasion.
“Nay.” His throat was clear; his voice steady. Still, he could only say that one word.
Celeborn barely hesitated before he ordered the jailer to, ”Let him out.”
“No! He’s my catch!” Celebrian protested. Then frightfully realized that she had spoken aloud and without leave. Celeborn’s chin lifted slightly, but he did not turn to look at her. He gestured to the jailer to proceed. The nervous functionary fumbled the key in the lock a bit before the door was finally swung open. Hrassa came out slowly, his eyes fixed on the pallid little efling, trying to reassure her. And himself. We’ll be all right. With a shooing wave of his hand, the Lord dismissed the jailer who all but ran back to his station.
“Hrassa,” said Celeborn, calling back his attention. The Lord looked long at him with the same displeasure he would a bow found to be strung too taut. Which was what Hrassa felt himself to be. And if Celeborn chose to pull, he might snap in two.
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!
Celebrian, Sell i Nos Galadhad – Celebrian, Daughter of the House of the Trees
Galadhad – the Trees - the Two Trees; one of the days of the week is Orgaladhad, ‘Day of the Trees’; in “Unfinished Tales”, there is a reference to Celeborn made by Celebrimbor as ‘Celeborn of the Trees’; the full-elven Sindarin royals (as opposed to the half-elven Elweans) are associated with Telperion by virtue of their names and silver hair, Galadriel is associated with Laurelin and both Trees together by virtue of her golden hair – *so* I have used ‘the Trees of the High Elves’ as seen on the West Gate of Moria as the device of Celeborn and Galadriel
Lindi – the Nandor kindred’s name for themselves; they are of the Lindar – the kindred with the largest population of the original three kindreds and led on the Great Journey by Elwë and Olwë; the Vanyar and Noldor came to call them the Teleri – the Nandor led by Lenwë left the Journey and settled in the Anduin river valley
Úmanyar/Úamanyar – literally people not from Aman (the Lindarin kindreds and cultures of Middle-earth)
Nos Elmo – the House of Elmo; another way to say the Children of Elmo
Elmoi – the kindred and clan of Elmo and his descendents; yet another way to say the Children of Elmo
Elmo stayed with his brother Elwë in Beleriand instead of going to Aman with his other brother Olwë; Elmo’s son was Galadhon whose sons were Galathil and Celeborn; Nimloth was Galathil’s daughter
Lindon – formerly Ossiriand, the ‘land of seven rivers’ belonging to the green-elves, the Laegrim. The Noldor name which means ‘Land of Music’(Song) or ‘Land of the Singers”. Those Eldar, both Noldor and Sindar (surviving refugees from Gondolin, Nargothrond, Menegroth, Balar, and Arvernien) who did not go back with the Host of the Valar after the War of the Wrath came there when Beleriand was inundated. The Gulf of Lhûn, where Mithlond was located, divided it into Harlindon (south) and Forlindon (north).
adar/ada – father/dad
naneth/nana – mother/mom
gwador/gwathel – brother/sister who is not a sibling
edhel – elf (edhil is the plural)
nothrim – Household or clan members (collective form of nos)
Rîn – crowned fem., a title for the lady chieftain of the Laegrim
Caun-anim – prince-mine, My Prince literally prince-for myself
Ríaneg – Queenie diminutive of Rian
Golda – Noldor Nandorin
ruschên – fox child
