“I feel like...” Haldir paused, smiling at the pair of ellyth that approached, their smug looks causing him to scowl once they’d passed by.
“Like cattle at the market?” offered Elrohir, relaxing from the grin he had flashed them.
“Like the plague of Valinor?” guessed Elladan, sipping his drink. He had stopped being cordial after the third or fourth group had looked upon the three standing near the wall in distaste. His brother and Haldir turned to him, both of them confused. “Apparently, neither of you were aware of our lower status here.” He motioned from himself to his brother and back again.
Haldir shook his head and frowned, glancing back to where the ellyth were. “You mean to tell me the reason so many are reluctant to approach us is because you are half-elven?”
Elladan slapped Haldir on the back. “You’ve won the big prize tonight, uncle. Elrohir, tell him what he wins.”
Elrohir hung his head, embarrassed that he hadn’t realized sooner. “Well, if he stays with us, a blank dance card and no one to warm his bed.” Elrohir smiled sadly to Haldir. “Go on then, uncle, you might as well shift away from us so your evening isn’t entirely spoiled.”
“No, I shall do no such thing.” Haldir looked bitterly upon others that had shunned them, wondering how anyone could have such an attitude. “In fact, I am of a mind to demand why they think in such a vulgar manner.”
“Uncle, please.” Elladan nearly put his hand upon Haldir’s arm, but decided against it. “Elrohir and I have each other, and that is enough for us. Damn the rest of the world, that’s how we’ve always seen it. You should have a bit of fun while you are here, get to know some of the others.”
“If this is how they act, I am of a mind to forget them completely,” Haldir told them venomously.
Thranduil’s gathering was oddly planned, in Haldir’s mind. The afternoon began with singing and dancing inside Oropher’s Great Hall, and would continue well into the evening, with dinner to commence shortly outside as the sun set. Haldir was not looking forward to dinner if he was to endure more of the same treatment outside as he had in. In fact, he would have been satisfied to leave at that very moment, had his father not had something planned to follow the dinner.
“Seriously, I look less like an elf than either of you,” continued Haldir. “If anything, it is I who should be considered a... breeding hazard,” he finished the rest of his drink, hoping to find stronger wine at dinner.
“Perhaps, they think you to be a half-elf as well,” Elrohir said apologetically.
“El, please, they would have to be blind to think that,” Elladan countered, and it was true. The pile of burgundy cloth that Celebrian had worked on during the journey was in fact a tunic that presented Haldir, for the first time he could ever remember, in the rank and house he belonged. Unless anyone counted the dark red cape he had worn to the battle at Helm’s Deep. He shivered at the memory. “Something the matter, uncle?”
“No, nothing,” said Haldir, “I just-“
He was interrupted by the sound of a horn calling everyone to the outdoor feast. “A classic, first age affair!” Thranduil had announced to them when they had arrived. “Not to be missed, and not to be forgotten!”
Haldir couldn’t remember seeing so many candles, so much color and light, and never so much food. Not even at his coronation for his brief time ruling Greenwood could he recall such lavishness, nor at the wedding of Elrond and Celebrian. He walked with the twins around the tables, looking to find their place cards. “Here we are, El!” Elladan said gleefully, holding up a large leaf that had been placed upon a plate. On the dark green, written in golden ink, was Elladan’s name.
Elrohir carefully looked at the leaves around the table. “There must be some mistake, El. My name is not here.”
Just at that moment, Celeborn happened by and heard them speaking. “Elrohir, I believe I noted your name near the other end.” He pointed out a table on the south-eastern end of the front lawn as he continued along.
“Why would they do that to us?” Elrohir asked as soon as Celeborn was out of range to hear him. “El, we’ve always ever eaten together, surely someone must have mentioned that to Thranduil if he did not already know!” His voice was panicked, and Elladan placed a hand upon his shoulder.
“It is a mistake, I am sure of it," Elladan assured him. “They would not knowingly separate us.”
An elleth wearing silver and white, with dark brown hair wandered to the table, smiling as she found her name at a place next to Elladan’s. As she placed a hand onto the back of her chair, Haldir boldly placed his upon it, and she looked up. Her first moment of surprise was well covered as she looked up the elf before her coyly. “I suppose you’re going to show me you’re a respectable elf and pull out the chair for me?”
“Actually,” said Haldir, sliding his hand away and joining it with his other hand in front of him, “I was going to ask a favor of you.”
“Oh?” The elleth smiled prettily. “And what might that favor be, pray tell?”
“Well, I do not know how to explain this, but there has been a mistake,” he said, rather hurriedly before too many others found their way to the table. “My nephews, they are supposed to be at the same table together, and somehow, one of them has been placed over there.” He waved with his hand in the general direction behind him. “So I would be most appreciative if you would be able to relocate to the other table.”
The elleth looked confused. “Why are your nephews supposed to be sitting together?”
“They happen to be twins, and-“
“Elrond’s sons?” she blurted out, her voice was no longer soft and demure. Rather, it was more of a shriek that unsettled a number of guests at nearby tables.
Haldir thought the elleth, whose name he had learned to be Taralawen from the leaf on her plate, seemed a bit unsteady now, and likely would have run away had they not been at such a formal event. Looking around Haldir, she now saw the identical pair of elves, and almost retched at the sight. Her face showed her inner turmoil - did she dare help these half-elves, or did she risk sitting next to one the rest of the evening?
The decision was made for her as Elrohir tapped Haldir on the shoulder. “I think I am going to find my seat, uncle. Care to walk with me?” Elladan was settling into his, not bothering to give Taralawen a second look.
Haldir nodded, also deciding to ignore the elleth. As soon as they were at a distance Haldir deemed to be far enough, he slipped into Westron, hoping few around them would understand the words.
“What a bitch!” he exploded, though his voice was low. Elrohir nodded in agreement, grinning despite his mood. “I swear, Elrohir, if she were an ellon or a man, I’d have knocked her out cold for that. Party or no party.”
“You did more than you needed, uncle, and El and I are both very grateful for that. But we have come to the conclusion that we will upset the meals of twice as many elves if we eat at separate tables.”
“Does your father get the same treatment?” Haldir couldn’t help to ask.
“He does, and then again, he does not. I think behind his back many say things they should not, while to his face, they are much more humble. He did a lot of things El and I never did, and his status also helps him.” Elrohir found the table his grandfather had referred them to and circled it, careful of the elves already present. “What did El and I do? Wandered the north playing rangers and inherited Rivendell for all of a quarter century or so. Not exactly the highest accomplishments.” Finding his space, he rested his hands on his chair and switched back to a more common tongue. “Shall we meet after the meal in the hall? Same place again?”
“Only if you and your brother have not already found dance partners,” he said with a wink. He nodded to another elf at the table that was deep in conversation but acknowledged him nonetheless. He felt more at ease knowing Ilmendin would not likely take kindly to any half-elf shunning that might have taken place. At Elladan’s table, Olwe was just about to make himself comfortable. It seemed his nephews would not need to fret much during the meal. Haldir would have skipped; except he remembered what trouble skipping had caused the last time he’d done it and how ridiculous he looked when he skipped.
Haldir did not make it to his own place until nearly everyone else was seated, and in fact, everyone at his table was sitting down. He tried to slip into his chair unnoticed, but the brightly colored clothing Celebrian had made for him prevented that. He was soon drawn into the conversation.
The ellon and ellyth at his table were polite and jolly and he couldn’t help to think throughout the entire meal whether or not they would have acted the same had he been seen by any of them with either of the twins. He was in an unexplainable bad temper by the time he began walking back to the hall. Elrohir and Elladan were sitting at the top of the steps, neither of them seeming all too happy, either.
“Come on, let’s take a bit of a stroll around first to walk off some of the meal,” suggested Haldir. The twins hopped up from their perch and quickly were at the foot of the steps. Neither felt like telling Haldir they had very little to walk off. They were silent as they encircled the massive structure, admiring the architecture.
“I hope Adar doesn’t think he has to build up the house to something of this size,” Elrohir said, finally breaking the silence.
“There is a difference between our home and this one.” Said Elladan. “Ours is made for living in. This is meant to be impressive-looking, but I have a feeling a fit would be had if anyone were to bring a flamingo into this house or not wipe their feet before entering.” Elrohir nodded in agreement.
Haldir looked up at the towering palace, taking in the many windows, turrets, and balconies. A number of elves had retired to various places and could be seen in the dim light of the moon. “I do not like it,” he finally said. “I would prefer a cave, and even better, a tree. It isn’t natural to live in such a house.”
“You don’t like living in the First Homely House, do you?” asked Elladan, but his tone wasn’t accusing.
Haldir shook his head. “I like your father’s house. I like it very much. It is very cozy, and warm, and I feel welcome there. I do not feel welcome here.” They came to the steps once again, and found very few elves left outside. “I think I understand why it is that Thranduil built the King’s Kastle.”
“It is an escape for him,” Elrohir said, “that much is clear now.”
Haldir nodded and looked up the steps to the entrance. “We should join everyone, there is something to happen before the dancing begins again.” The twins began up the stairs before Haldir, the elder elf pausing for a moment, feeling as if someone had been following them.
There was a tap on his shoulder, but not the friendly sort of tap one expects from a friend or relative. This one meant business, and Haldir turned around slowly, looking not a bit surprised to see a rather irate elleth with dark hair.
“I may not know how to speak ‘Wess-Tron’,” said Taralawen, “but my husband does and heard your entire conversation.” Haldir looked past Taralawen to see an angry looking elf headed in his direction. Before the ellon could reach him, Haldir held up his hand.
“If you plan to engage me, I will not regret fighting back. It was your wife, and not you whom I insulted, and not without good reason. If she still believes she has been scorned by my words, then let her retaliate. I promise, I shall not strike back.” Haldir stood his ground, lowering his hand. Behind him, he could hear Elrohir swallow and Elladan shift his feet on the stone stairway. This was soon replaced with a crack and Taralawen slapped his cheek, but he made no effort to withdraw. She spat at his feet as an afterthought and flounced away from him.
Her husband took a few steps closer. “Do not think this is finished, wood elf,” and the words were spoken with a fierce amount of hate, “for I will not stand idly by to hear words that speak ill of my wife and the elleth with whom I raised three elflings.”
Haldir stepped closer, dangerously close, switching to Westron. “Perhaps you should have thought to raise the elleth first.”
Elladan and Elrohir both leaped down the stairs as the elf backhanded Haldir, but their uncle held his hand to them, insisting they stay behind him.
“Mark my words, wood elf, this is not finished.” The elf’s finger pushed at Haldir’s chest daringly. “The next time we meet, more than words will be exchanged.” He drew back, and stomped off after his wife.
“Bloody Noldo, lot of good they are,” cursed Elladan, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket. Haldir stepped back from Elladan’s care, even with his nose spilling blood.
“Never let me hear you say such a thing again, Elladan.” Haldir’s voice was quiet, but severe. “Listen to your words, for they are no different from the rest you have heard ringing in your ears this evening. Is not Glorfindel a Noldo? What of Erestor?”
“What about us?” Elrohir now had Elladan’s attention, even as his brother’s head hung in shame. “We might not be quite as much elf as the rest, but some of it is Noldorin. I know you are upset, brother, but do not let your rage taint your words.”
Elladan nodded. “You are right. Both of you are. I was just - I am so very angry that they would even think to strike you, uncle.” Elladan came closer to Haldir once again. “Please, may I tend to you?” Haldir nodded, letting Elladan wipe up the blood and stop the flow. “I apologize. I will be more careful with my words.”
This appeared to appease Haldir, and he pushed his nose a bit with his finger, testing to see if it was damaged more than expected. “I know you will. Now, come, for your grandfather has something planned and I would be terribly sorry if I were to miss it.” The three headed up the stairs and through the entrance as they had planned.
Celeborn was there and halted all three of them, looking in disdain at the bloodied cloth Elladan now hid up his sleeve. “We will talk later,” he said sternly, and none of the three argued this. Standing nearby were Celebrian, Orophin, and Rumil, each with a long-stemmed rose in their hands. Celeborn handed one of the same to Haldir, keeping one himself. “Elrohir, Elladan, go on inside. Tell Thranduil we are all here now.” The twins bowed slightly in wonder, and headed into the hall.
Celeborn shook his head at Haldir. “I do not know how many times I need to explain this to you, penneth. If you cannot find anything nice to say, do not say anything at all unless you are completely out of range, and even then, my suggestion is that you say it in your head to yourself. Is that clear?”
“As crystal, sir.”
Celeborn gave a curt nod, and added, after letting out a long breath. “I am, however, proud of your actions this evening.” Haldir raised a brow, and Celeborn continued. “You may think I have seen little, but I know much. If it were not for the sake of your mother, we would not have stayed this long.” Celeborn made a motion with his head, and Haldir knew to move away and in place between Celebrian and Orophin.
Orophin leaned slightly toward Haldir as Celeborn stepped to the doorway and peered into the hall. “I’d have punched him. And the elleth, probably.”
Rumil turned to look at Orophin and Haldir. “Punch who?” Rumil saw that Haldir’s cheek was slightly swollen, and gasped. “Halli, what happened to you?”
“A nasty little elleth and her husband attacked him,” hissed Celebrian. “What a bitch,” she added in Westron. “She had better hope I never meet up with her in a dark gardenway.”
“Celebrian!” Celeborn addressed his daughter, but it wasn’t to scold her. Instead, he was motioning to the doorway, and Celebrian scooted forward. She stopped to compose herself and gracefully entered the room.
- - -
“Galadriel,” announced Thranduil as soon as Elrohir and Elladan told him things were ready. He walked to the surprised elleth, taking her hand and leading her to the center of the room, where none others stood. “Galadriel, I know our relationship hasn’t always been on the best of terms.”
“Relationship? What relationship?” mused Galadriel playfully. A goodly amount of laughter rose up, and Thranduil frowned, keeping up his kingly appearance quite well.
“Come now, my dear. There was always a bit of a scuff between us two. You had the ring of adamant; I had a ring of spiders around my doorstep. You asked the Valar for a son and ended up with three while I asked the Valar for a daughter and apparently, they were on holiday.” The laughter and the jibes continued for a bit, each of them attempting to best the other.
It was Thranduil finally who attempted to bring their game to a conclusion. “We could continue on like this for some time my dear, but I think you must agree, that in the end, it is I who came out ahead.”
Galadriel narrowed her eyes, but was grinning madly. “How so?”
“Well, it’s quite simple, really,” he said. “I traveled to Valinor in a much prettier boat.” He looked to the doorway amid the laughter, signaling to Celeborn. “What this really comes down to is that so many, many years ago when my good friend, for whatever silly reason, became smitten with you, he chose me to aid him in that quest as his honored elf at your wedding.”
“You were at the wedding?” asked Galadriel, ever wanting to have the last word of a dispute. “All this time, I thought you had spent it in the wine cellar.”
“Saes, you will split my side with your jests!” pleaded Thranduil, motioning to the doorway. “As the years flew by, you became the parents of not just one or two but of a whole flock of wonderful elflings, all of whom I would have been more than happy to play guardian to had you brought them around Greenwood more often. I am hoping I might get my chance with the newest member of your family when she is born. Alas, I would call her by name, but I am told she does not yet have one. That is what your family intends to remedy right now.”
Galadriel looked now to the door, where Celebrian stood, holding a single rose before her. Thranduil moved away from Galadriel’s side, leaving her to stand alone as her daughter approached.
Celebrian stopped in front of her mother. “Nana, I wanted to thank you for something that I hold very dear to my heart. My name. It is perfect and I love it and I would never exchange it for another.” She held out the rose and Galadriel gladly accepted it from her. Celebrian gave a bit of a curtsey and stepped back and off to the side, but did not quite leave the center.
Haldir approached next. He stopped halfway, as if he wasn’t exactly certain he wanted to say what he intended very close to Galadriel. She raised a brow elegantly and he grinned. “I suppose it is to be expected that one cannot... find the perfect name all of the time.” A few elves smirked at this, mostly those who knew Haldir well. “But compared to some of the things I was called throughout the years, many of which were well-deserved, I can safely say I like Haldir the best.” Even Galadriel laughed now, and Haldir continued to her, handing her the rose. “Truly, I thank you for my name, Nana, I do love it and I am proud of it.” He bowed, joining Celebrian a few paces away.
Orophin took a few elegant strides into the room, and then when he was sure all eyes were on him, skipped the rest of the way. “Do excuse me, nana, I kept hopping and tripping forward, I think the floor is a bit wet.” His brother and sister contained their silent laughter as he continued. “I cannot quite thank you for my name directly, for as luck would have it, my brother came up with this wonderful word I answer to. I can thank you, however, for asking Glorfindel to stay in the Golden Woods to tend to the education of my wayward siblings,” both of whom narrowed their eyes at Orophin, “and that such a memorable impression was made upon young Haldir for him to name me after the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. And in many fewer words, thank you, Nana.” Orophin handed Galadriel the flower he held, lifted her other hand, and kissed it before bowing as well. Unlike the red roses Celebrian and Haldir had given her, his was yellow. He took his place beside Haldir and waited for his other brother to enter the hall.
Rumil entered slowly, shyly almost, keeping his head bowed. When he was in front of Galadriel, he smiled, holding out the rose. “My name was also gifted to me by Haldir, but it is not my name for which I thank you, Nana, but for everything.” Galadriel drew her youngest son into a tight embrace, kissing him on the cheek. Rumil bowed quickly as they parted, and slid into place next to Orophin.
Celeborn stood in the doorway, eyes on his wife. He approached her, his stride regal and full of an unknown purpose. He stopped only when he was barely a yard away. “Galadriel.” His voice was clear, and the word was almost sung in how he said it. Galadriel took a step forward, but Celeborn flinched, so she stepped back. “Do you know where we are?” he asked.
Galadriel carefully looked around her, at the elves surrounding them, the walls, ceiling, and floor. Slowly, she shook her head. Celeborn took another step forward, taking hold of Galadriel’s hands carefully minding the flowers both of them held. “Galadriel,” he said again, and realization came into her eyes.
“This is where you named me. It was a garden here, many ages ago.”
“Aye, but the palace has been built around it,” Celeborn said, stroking the back of Galadriel’s hands with his thumbs. “I thought this was the perfect place for it.”
“For...?”
Celeborn let go of her hands, transferring the rose he had held into Galadriel’s. “That is from our daughter,” he said as he lowered himself so that he was on one knee. He reached up to hold onto Galadriel’s free hand, placing his other onto her swelled stomach, closing his eyes. “...Tallasinde.”
