Glorfindel took the lead in following Meleth back into the suite. While he expected to see Aranel sitting at the table holding Nenniach on her lap, he was less prepared to see Idril helping to set out baskets of bread, and even less did he expect to see Tauniel arranging settings to make room for the extra guests. In fact, Glorfindel froze in place while Ecthelion and Erestor walked around him.
“Oh, there he is!” Tauniel finished her task, and practically swooped in on Indelion, who looked as bewildered as his father. “Such a good little boy, not to fuss at mealtime,” she cooed as she took him to her seat beside Idril.
“He is adorable as ever!” Idril touched the baby’s nose, and Indelion reached out to her, much more familiar with the princess than he was with his own mother. “Do you mind?” she brought the child into her arms, and he warily looked back at Tauniel from where he was now being held.
Glorfindel was cautious as well, and he pulled Meleth aside. “Is this an act? As soon as Idril leaves, will Tauniel bolt?”
“I wish I had an answer for you,” she whispered back. “We shall wait and see what happens.” Meleth motioned Glorfindel back onto the balcony, and once they were beyond being heard by the others, she said, “My husband had a stern conversation with her.”
“Really?”
“They met in the greater market. She was with Idril, watching one of the juggling acts, when he approached her and pulled her aside. I have only his account of what was said, but from what he told me it sounded fairly accurate.”
“What did he say?” wondered Glorfindel.
---
“You are a spoiled child.” Rog had Tauniel cornered behind to tents, where a potter and a cobbler sold their wares. He kept his voice low and even to keep from causing a scene. “You are lucky you are not my daughter, for I would have disowned you for such malicious behavior. You are lucky Glorfindel is so kind, for if you were my wife, you would be standing in the stocks right now. It disgraces me that you were chosen by my daughter, and that I went through such pains to make sure you might have a life together.”
Tauniel squirmed under scrutiny. “Aranel chose Erestor,” she hissed, and when she looked away, Rog took hold of her chin and made her focus up him.
“Aranel chose to mate with Erestor; she did not chose him as her mate. She chose you. You are all bound together now, and here you are, trolloping about without a care in the world, leaving your family to fall apart. How does it feel to ruin the lives of seven people?”
“Seven? I do not count seven.” Tauniel jerked her head away, but spitefully continued to glare at Rog.
“Aranel, Indelion, and Glorfindel are obvious. Erestor tries the best he can to keep things together. My wife spends most of her time there now to fill the gap you left, and that affects me. That also means my granddaughter is affected as well. You may not count seven, but I do,” said Rog firmly.
With a shrug, she looked away again, now looking for a way to pass around him. “What should you wish me to do?”
“Grow up. Act like a lady, not some frolicking maiden. People were relying upon you, and you let them down. I have heard that you are to be in Idril’s wedding party. Perhaps if you put half the energy you place in that into taking care of your family, your son might know your name.”
“My son knows me,” she argued.
“Then why does he never call out to you? Why is the only word he says when he awakes from naps ‘Ada’? You stand upon the edge right now,” Rog warned. “Take another step, and you will likely be unable to find your way back.”
“What does that mean?”
Rog clenched his fist, and he had a hard time not shouting, but forced himself to stay calm. “Right now, your child is only indifferent to you. Do you wish him to hate you? Despise you? Then keep on with this nonsense, but one day you will regret it greatly, and there will be nothing left for you to do about it. I suppose it will not be a huge loss for the child,” added Rog as he turned to leave. “Maybe having one great parent who loves him is better than having you in his life.” He looked over his shoulder and scolded, “What would your parents say to all this? You must think you make them proud,” he sneered, and then, he was gone.
---
“I tried to get him to come tonight, but he said he did not want it to seem forced if she showed up at the same time he did. He might stop by later.” Meleth set a hand upon Glorfindel’s shoulder. “I hope it is alright for me to have invited them. I did not know if either would come, but Idril seems to follow Ecthelion around now, and Tauniel spends a fair amount of time with Idril...”
“Did Rog really say those things about me, or did you embellish the story?” Glorfindel was trying to hide a smile, but that Rog had complimented him, even in anger, made him feel vindicated for once in the eyes of Rog.
Meleth smiled. “My husband thinks you are vain.”
“I am,” Glorfindel readily admitted.
“On more than one occasion, he had suggested that I wait until you are sleeping, and trim your hair to keep it at a suitable length.”
“I can believe that,” answered Glorfindel with a nod. “Luckily, I am a light sleeper.”
“And I would never violate you like that,” Meleth assured him. “However, when it comes to strategy and philanthropy and parenting and scientific pursuits, my husband has a fair amount of respect for you. It just baffles him that someone who typically keeps their hair past their knees can have such a successful military career.” She lowered her voice. “I also think it makes him a bit jealous.”
Glorfindel found this amusing. “How could he ever be jealous of me?”
“When we met, he had very long, very beautiful fiery red hair,” reminisced Meleth. “He left it long – never tied it back or kept it in braids. It just knew not to tangle. It was as if he had scared it into submission,” she recalled with some laughter. “It was never as long as yours, but there were a few times it would grow past his waist before he would have it trimmed. There was this errant clump above his left eye that never got very long. It just curved slightly and taunted him sometimes by dipping down over his eye.” She paused. “You would have liked him back then. He was much happier before we came here.”
“What happened?”
Meleth shook her head and lifted her hands with her palms facing up. “Who can say? Time? Stress? There were so many different things going on at the time. The more than happened, the less like himself he became.”
Glorfindel looked out over the city, drawing out his spectacles from his pocket so that he could focus on the red and black bannered house with its many columns and turrets. Smoke still billowed from forges that never slept. “Can you keep a little something warm for me?” he asked.
“Of course,” said Meleth. “I am fairly certain he will be arriving later, though, if you do not mind waiting.”
“I want him to know he is welcome here,” said Glorfindel. “Can you set aside a plate for him as well?”
“He may have eaten already, but I can,” she said.
“Thank you.” Glorfindel went back inside and approached the table. Everyone was chatting happily with one another, and much of the food had circulated around. There were two spaces left open, and Meleth took one of the plates to the kitchen, retrieving another from the cupboard. “I must apologize,” announced Glorfindel, and the noise tapered off. “An appointment I have completely slipped my mind, but please do not wait on my account. If all goes well, I should return the same time as Rog does, and we will be able to have something during dessert.”
Only Erestor looked puzzled; his daughter let out a jubilant cry of ‘Empa! Empa!’ upon hearing that her grandfather would be arriving. Tauniel momentarily looked embarrassed, but not too long afterwards Indelion was given back to her from Idril, and she snuggled the affection-starved child. “Hurry back,” called out Ecthelion as Glorfindel headed for the door. “I have something important to ask you.”
Glorfindel stopped with his hand holding the edge of the door. “What?”
Ecthelion waved him off. “Go. I do not want to rush it. I will wait until you get back. Besides, it ensures you will actually come back!”
