Origins - Ch. 1

[samtyr]

~ Ch. 1 ~

As he returned from his early morning walk, Glorfindel went to his room and began working on the latest entry of the new horticulture project he had started some months earlier. But the sound of hoof beats drew his attention and he looked up and saw a lone rider approaching the house at an unusually fast pace. How odd, he didn’t remember Mother or Father mentioning the arrival of any visitors. Their home was too remote from the city to hold any attraction for most of their family. As the rider drew nearer, Glorfindel saw the glint of deep red hair, and he realized at once that it must be Maitimo. But why was his eldest cousin coming here, of all places? Matimo seldom left Tirion unless it was to be with his parents and brothers at their home.

Hurriedly, Glorfindel rose from his work desk beside the window and went downstairs so that he could greet the eldest son of Fëanáro.

“Hello, Glorfindel.” Maedhros pulled his tired horse to a stop and swung lightly to the ground, tossing the reins to a nearby stable boy.

“Cousin, it is wonderful to see you. What brings you here? A message from our grandfather?” Glorfindel hurriedly embraced Maedhros, and gave him a brief kiss of greeting.

Strictly speaking, Finwë was not even Glorfindel’s grandfather by marriage but Finwë had insisted on welcoming all of Indis’ extended family as his own. Thus Glorfindel used the honorific even though there was no shared blood between them.

“No, I am on a different sort of errand today cousin.” Maedhros looked nervously around the quiet courtyard as if he were afraid they would be overheard. “Is there someplace we can talk privately? It is very important that I speak with you.”

“Of course.” Glorfindel gave him a puzzled look before shrugging lightly. Maitimo was seldom so brusque with Finwë’s extended family and the insistence on privacy was unusual too. “We can inspect the new garden maze and see if the benches have arrived. It was just replanted this spring; it is Mother’s own design and she is quite proud of it.”

“That would be nice.” Maedhros quickly walked toward the gate to the side yard that would lead them to the maze.

“But perhaps you would like some refreshment first? You look as if you are unwell, Maitimo.”

“I will explain everything once we are away from the house.” Maedhros replied. He was worried if they stayed in the yard any longer, they would be surrounded by Glorfindel’s family and if that happened, they might not have a chance to speak privately for a long time.

“Come along then.”

With Glorfindel leading the way, they walked slowly along the white-graveled path that led to the lush green formal gardens. Defying the long tradition of using tall yew hedges for a maze, Lávarien preferred to plant small colorfully annual flowers to indicate the maze’s border, which she redesigned every year. The only things that remained constant were the fountain in the center of the maze and a large variety of shells from their summer home in Alqalondë that served to mark the outermost border that led to a small forest. Glorfindel pointed out several new flower species that his mother had purchased from various traders who knew of her interest in flowers and often stopped at their door with their newest discoveries. But Maedhros was in no mood for any kind of small talk and paid very little attention to Glorfindel’s meager attempts to draw him out. Finally, they sat down on one of the far benches so the sound of falling water would help keep their conversation private.

“Now tell me why you have come, and why you insist on such privacy, Maitimo.” Glorfindel was determined to get an answer this time. His elder cousin was far too skilled at evading and deflecting questions - it was widely known by all that Maitimo did so almost as easily as he breathed. It was no wonder that Grandfather wished to keep him near at court. “This is most unlike you, cousin.”

Maedhros however had risen from the bench and walked over to the fountain where he was busily splashing the cool water onto his face. He leaned on the edge of the fountain and breathed deeply, gathering his nerve and trying to decide how best to explain things to his young cousin when he hardly knew how to explain them to himself.

“Are you are ill?” Glorfindel inquired worriedly, coming to stand beside him. “Is it something serious? Have you been to a healer yet?”

Maedhros’ silver eyes looked sharply at him, as if trying to decide if the young Vanya was being facetious or not. Instead of an answer though, Maedhros dropped his head and spread the palm of his hand over his stomach, and for the first time, Glorfindel saw that the once-lean frame had put on weight in its midsection.

“What!” he exclaimed, his face turning ashen. “You do not mean… Surely you do not mean…”

“Yes, it is true,” Maedhros sighed. “Rare and not supposed to be possible among our people but there it is - I am expecting a child.”

“But… but…” Glorfindel sputtered and then paused for a long time. Finally he said, “Why have you come here? You know that we have no herb lore of that sort.”

“I did not come for any herb lore.” Maedhros glanced quickly away from Glorfindel and stared back at the fountain. “I have arranged with Grandfather to allow me to study and do some research for the wording of one of the new laws here in your parents’ library.”

“Oh.” Glorfindel couldn’t think of anything else to say. He had never imagined such a thing. “That’s nice.”

“My father must not find out about this, Glorfindel. He is a wonderful man and a great father but he is very… excitable when it comes to certain things.”

“Indeed.” Glorfindel thought that was the understatement of all understatements. Prince Fëanáro was a brilliant man in many ways but he was not the calmest person to be around at the best of times and his fiery temper was legendary. “But why here? How can we help?”

“Your mother and my grandmother were childhood friends,” Maedhros replied as if that explained everything, and it did. Once Prince Fëanáro had learned that his beloved mother had been close friends with Glorfindel’s mother, he had accepted her and her family - despite his almost rabid dislike of the Vanyar in general. “I need to stay here and keep out of sight until the baby is born.”

“Erm. Well.” Glorfindel blushed deeply, trying not to think about the whole bizarre situation. “You know you are welcome to stay, but people will not leave you alone. You are the Prince-in-waiting. Your condition is bound to be noticed by someone. I cannot - I will not keep such a thing from my parents. And when your father finds out…”

“He must never find out. Never.” Maedhros said and Glorfindel wondered at the vehemence in his voice. “Do you understand, Lauron?”

“But the father - surely…he must know about the... the…”

“He didn’t - until now.” Maedhros turned his brilliant gaze on the younger elf, and Glorfindel shrank from it.

“What do you…? But it was only that once. Once!” Glorfindel’s voice was rising, with a definite note of panic in it. “You said it was ok! And everyone knows that the first time… well that the first time that … that… it just doesn’t happen that way, Maitimo!”

Shocked, Glorfindel thought back to his last begetting day celebration. Their king, Finwë, had sent a personal message, asking his father for his opinion and also to help with a new law that was being drafted, so he and his parents had made a rare journey to Tirion. Since they would be staying more than a few days, Laurëangoldo had decided to let a house for several months rather than stay in the palace as was often the case for shorter stays. Lávarien intended to design a new garden for Indis, while Glorfindel hoped to find some new plants for his new horticulture project that he would start on their return home.

Once there and established in the new house, they had stayed longer than originally planned, for Indis had insisted on throwing many picnics, luncheons, teas, dinner parties and the always-popular dances to entertain them - and before anyone realized it, Glorfindel’s begetting day was upon them. Finwë had insisted on hosting yet another large family celebration that night and unsurprisingly, it seemed as if the entire court was there; the food was plentiful and the wine had flowed freely - much more freely than what Glorfindel was used to. He remembered little from that night except for the singing and dancing and then much later, walking under the stars with his eldest cousin in an unsuccessful attempt to clear his head from so much wine. What Glorfindel did remember was waking up very late the next morning, in a strange guest room and in bed with Maitimo sleeping soundly beside him. They had both been quite naked and very sweaty, though Glorfindel honestly had little memory of anything beyond the beginning of the dance the night before. Now, Glorfindel blushed with shame to think of how he had quietly risen and dressed, leaving Maitimo without any word of farewell.

“Well apparently it can happen that way because it *did*.” Maedhros kept that same bright gaze trained on him, and Glorfindel cringed away. “Or do you believe me to be a lightfoot, lying with any who asks?”

“No, of course not.” Glorfindel regained his lost composure for a moment. “You know better than that,” he chided his long-time friend and once-lover.

“Well then, try to act as if you aren’t completely senseless.” Maedhros grumbled. “Really, Lauron, I gave you more credit than that.”

“And to think it happened on the day of my majority too.” Glorfindel muttered gloomily as the full realization hit him. “My… oh what will I do? I have to tell Mother and Father now! What will they say? How can I face them? They will be so upset…”

“Do you think I was pleased to learn of it?”Maedhros snapped. “I will have to endure this… this… for Valar knows how long.”

“I don’t know…” Glorfindel was at a terrible loss for words. “I suppose, well… I think we had better go and talk to my parents now, cousin.”

“Yes, I suppose we had better.” Maedhros said with a resigned sigh. He knew Glorfindel’s’ parents quite well from their visits to the court in Tirion; they were wonderful people and he hated to arrive with such upsetting news for them.

*
As they neared the house, the two young elves could see an older couple standing outside the great windows that led to the main drawing room. Glorfindel waved to them and they waved back before turning and entering the house.

“Mother will have tea ready,” Glorfindel told the silent copper-haired ellon that walked beside him. Maedhros nodded silently, dreading the idea of making polite conversation before
explaining the reason for his visit.

Slowly, Glorfindel led Maedhros to the library, where his parents waited to greet him.

“Of course we are pleased to have you as our guest, Prince. You know you are always welcome and may stay as long as you wish. But are you certain that your father the Crown Prince will not mind? I do not wish to anger him.” Glorfindel’s father, Laurëangoldo, spoke directly to Maedhros.

“I have spoken to Grandfather; he will make everything right.” Maedhros said. “Father will not be a problem.”

“We are putting you on your honor then, Prince. I have no wish to face the wrath of Prince Fëanáro. Now tell us, why do you really wish to stay?”

But for once Maedhros’ renowned social skills failed him. He looked at Glorfindel, hoping desperately that the younger elf would be able to say something helpful. Instead, Glorfindel’s ears turned bright red as he dropped his head and dug his bare toes into the soft rug.

“Glorfindel, do you wish to say anything?” His father spoke sharply to him and Glorfindel slid down even further in his seat. “Speak up, my son.”

“I... I…” He began, stammering slightly and looked wildly around the room. “I don’t know what to say, Father.”

“You know you will not be punished for telling the truth, my son.” Glorfindel’s mother, Lávarien, spoke up in her clear sweet voice. “What is wrong, my darling?”

“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m so sorry.” Glorfindel’s eyes watered as he fought to hold back the tears. “I didn’t know… I didn’t, honest.”

“Perhaps you can tell us the reason my son is in such distress, Prince?” Lávarien turned her attention to Maedhros, her voice now holding a note of iron in it - a tone that Maedhros was all too familiar with.

“It’s a bit complicated,” he began. Unconsciously, his hand covered his stomach once more in the same protective gesture he had used earlier in the maze. “I hardly know how to say this, but - .”

“You need say no more. I understand.” The Vanya matron studied him with a practiced, calculating eye. “How long? I take it you were unaware of the gift you carried until now.”

“How could you know of it?” Maedhros exclaimed. “It is not a gift. How could I have such a thing happen to me?”

“It is a gift from your grandmother Miriel.” Lávarien smiled kindly at him. “She was a student of Vairë; it is she (Vairë) who bestowed it upon your family.”

“But neither Father nor Grandfather mentioned such a thing,” Maedhros argued. “How is it that you know of it?”

“Miriel was my closest friend when I too was a student of Vairë. It was Miriel who was chosen as Vairë’s acolyte. But I had little talent and soon left, though Miriel and I remained close.”

“Does this mean I have it too?” Glorfindel cried out. He suddenly felt as if he might faint. The very idea that such a thing could happen to him was terrifying.

“No, it happens to very few.” Lávarien said as she placed a soft hand on her son’s shoulder. “You do not have it, my son.”

Later, although Glorfindel was never quite positive, he was convinced that he heard a very faint note of disappointment in his mother’s voice when she told him.

“It will be on my own begetting day, Mother,” Glorfindel whispered.

“What are you talking about, Wife?” Laurëangoldo was looking askance at them all, having a very uneasy feeling. “Explain this to me, please.”

“The prince is with child, Husband and it seems that our son is the father.”

“What! But how…” Laurëangoldo looked completely bewildered at the announcement. “Do you mean to say - but that is impossible, Wife!”

“Oh really? It seems I will have to explain things to you later, Husband. But now we must make plans and we have little time.” Lávarien spoke coolly to her husband and then looked thoughtfully at the hapless males now under her care. “We are lucky to have very few servants. But we must choose the new help with greater care than usual.”

“Indeed,” Laurëangoldo muttered as he shook his head. He had foolishly believed that life would be simpler once Glorfindel became an adult, not more complicated. And this was one of the biggest complications imaginable.

“But I have news of my own,” Lávarien continued. “It seems that you have arrived at a most fortuitous time, Prince, for I too am expecting another child.”

“What!” exclaimed Laurëangoldo once more, as he felt all of the color drain from his face as he stared at his wife. “You… you’re - *what*? Expecting a *baby*? But how did that happen?”

“You… you mean I’m going to have a baby brother?” Glorfindel echoed. “Or maybe a baby sister,” he amended as he saw his mother’s annoyed glance.

“Don’t be so absurd.” Lávarien snapped as she narrowed her eyes, scowling at her husband while Glorfindel had a fresh look of horror and disbelief on his face. “Honestly, Husband. You should know better by now.” She turned to look at the young prince. “You must excuse him; he is not usually so foolish.”

Despite himself, Maedhros felt amused for the first time since discovering his own pregnancy. This was almost like being at home whenever Mother happened to announce there would be a new arrival soon. Father always seemed surprised, as if he could not imagine such a thing could happen. Some things seemed to be universal.

After the excitement had died down, Lávarien took Maedhros aside to compare notes. From the sound of it, she believed it was very likely that their babies would be born at almost the same time.

“What plans have you made, my prince?” She asked him over a cup of hot tea. “You do know it will be impossible for you to keep the baby yourself.”

“I don’t know… I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet.” Maedhros sighed tiredly. “But yes, I know I cannot keep him. Father would be furious if he knew - I do not think he would ever harm a child but he must never know. I must keep this secret from him.”

“Him? You seem very sure.”

“Yes, I am.” Maedhros gave her a small, quiet smile.

“I see. Then, I think it would be best if you let my husband and I claim the child as our own.” Lávarien said at last. “Twins are not too uncommon and it is the simplest solution.”

“It is but I do not know how I can give him up so easily.” Maedhros bit at his lower lip and fought to keep his composure as she took his large, strong hand in her slender one. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

“It will be for the best, prince,” she said, squeezing his hand gently. “Unless you explain things to your father, throw yourself on his mercy and hope he will understand. But as you are finding out, life is very seldom fair.”

“I know,” he whispered in a sad, tired voice. “I know.”

*

It was soon decided that the small study attached to the library would be Maedhros’ room. He would have more privacy there than in a regular guest room; also, there were no stairs since it was located on the ground floor. The main doors that opened to the gardens were close by too.

Maedhros soon found the books he needed to prepare the legal briefs he had promised his grandfather, taking copious notes and working on the preliminary drafts. But more often than not he found himself sketching idly at the parchment, unable to concentrate on his usual work. Instead, his entire focus was on his unborn child.

//Is this how women feel?// he wondered. //Is this how Mother has so often felt?// He wished he dared keep a personal journal about this exceptional time but he knew he lacked that sort of courage. If Father should ever find out… he shuddered, and not from a chill.



Instead, the daily entries were filled with mentions of the weather, assorted legal notes and of course a list of the steady stream of visitors that came by to congratulate Glorfindel’s parents on the impending birth. Maedhros was ashamed to admit that he felt very jealous at times, but as he was locked away doing important research, only a few of the boldest ellons opened the library door to give him a brief greeting. Of course, since he was helping draft a new law for his grandfather the king, none seriously expected him to do more than reply with a quick word or two in acknowledgement before returning to his work.

Time had never seemed so strange to him before either. The minutes dragged, the hours flew and every week brought a new letter each from his father and grandfather, both of whom wanted to know why this project was taking so long and was he sure that he did not need their help in completing it. The accompanying letters from his mother were even less reassuring, for she was convinced that he was ‘ill’ and that he surely needed her special nursing. This was just a little more perceptive than Maedhros had expected from her, and only Caranthir’s letters of how the twins were busy ‘exploring’ the countryside with Celegorm and their subsequent misadventures gave any real indication of why Nerdanel did not press the issue more thoroughly.
Lávarien took special care in seeing that he ate properly and frequently, as well as walking as much as possible in the early days.

“You will need to exercise as much as possible and gain strength while you can still get around easily. If we were at Alqalondë, you could swim but I do not trust the coldness of our river. I believe walking is best,” she told him in a decisive manner. “In a few months, you will be confined to the house and have to be much more careful.”

Glorfindel proved to be quite attentive, once he got past the initial shock of the news. Indeed, Maitimo could not fault his behavior for Glorfindel was always near, ready to help in what way he could. But his real gift was in massaging Maitimo’s sore, aching back and swollen feet. If only they had some deeper feelings toward each other than that of friendship, Maitimo thought they could be very happily married.

Maedhros was also concerned about how large he was becoming and wondered just how such a tiny baby could make a person so big. The first time Lávarien saw how often he was grasping at furniture to keep steady himself, she had insisted on that he use a cane when he walked. The baby had shifted his center of balance, she said and a fall could have serious consequences. It would also help ease his back.

“Why,” he had asked Lávarien “is there even a child? I thought we did not conceive unless it was agreed upon by both parties.”

“That is the current thought,” Lávarien admitted. “Prince, you do know that my husband and I both Awakened under the stars at Cuiviénen?” At Maitimo’s hesitant nod, she continued. “We - those of us who Awakened - believed the reason a child came into being was because Eru had a special plan for it to cause it to be born at that time, even if that plan was unclear to the parents.”

“I see.” Maedhros rested one hand on the porch rail. He seemed to tire more and more easily these days. “So you think that this is a special baby then?”

“Yes, I do. Try not to worry so, my dear. All will be well in the end.”
Fortunately, Lávarien understood his unspoken moods and needs better than he cared to admit, for she told him what to expect in the coming months and how he would cope when the birthing time arrived.

“I am sorry we cannot have a midwife for you,” she told him. “But it is too great of a risk; I fear that none could keep quiet about this for very long, no matter how good their intentions might be.”

“Then who will be able to help?” Maedhros fretted. “And will there need to be any - cutting?”

“No, there is a passage that will open for the birth,” Lávarien told him with her usual calm assurance. “And all of us can help…”

“I’ve had lots of practice with the mares,” Glorfindel began eagerly, only to cringe back when both his mother and Maedhros turned and glared hotly at him.

“Thank you Glorfindel that is most reassuring,” his mother said in an acid tone. “Now why don’t you make yourself useful and go to the kitchen and bring us some tea and scones?”

“Yes, Mother.” Glorfindel quickly slunk out the door and down the long passageway. He felt like an uncouth fool and he hoped that someday he would be able to say the right thing to people and not continually embarrass himself in front of the people he wanted to impress the most.

“He means well.” Lávarien looked over at the prince and sighed. “But I’m afraid my son is not very good at expressing himself at times.”

“I know he does ma’am. He’s been very helpful in a lot of ways.” Maedhros said, and then struggled to find a more comfortable position on the couch, groaning slightly. “But I believe the little one is very restless today.”

“Hmmmm.” Lávarien studied the prince’s once-lean frame closely. //It would be very soon now//, she thought to herself. //Perhaps even sooner than expected.// “Mine is as well,” she reluctantly admitted.

Several minutes later, Glorfindel returned with the tea service and set it down on the low table in front of the other two. Glorfindel had become quite skilled at serving tea in recent months and his manners had improved markedly. He skillfully poured the tea and handed the first cup to his mother before handing one to Maedhros. Although Lávarien nibbled at a scone and sipped her tea, Maedhros only stirred a bit of honey in his tea before pushing it away.
“I am sorry Glorfindel,” he said. “I am just not in the mood for tea right now.”

*

A few hours later, it became apparent to everyone that Maedhros was in labor.

“It will be alright,” Lávarien told the prince in what she hoped was a reassuring voice, even as she tried to ignore her own increasing labor pains. She still had time; the prince needed all of their attention right now.

Prince Maedhros’ son was born at dawn the following day, and the House of the Golden Flower welcomed its newest member, a daughter, less than two hours later.

*

Maedhros spent as much time as possible with his son. He knew he would have to give him up but at the same time he wanted nothing more than to keep him and announce to the entire realm that the House of Fëanor had a new heir. Each day he stayed was a gift, and he knew he could never repay the debt he felt toward the House of the Golden Flower.

It had been decided to delay the announcement of the births as long as possible, for when they did so, Finwë would come as soon as possible to attend the naming celebration - probably with Indis and other members of their family - and undoubtedly he would expect Maedhros to return to Tirion as well since Maedhros no longer had an excuse to refuse to accompany him.

*
On this particular day, Maedhros and Glorfindel were looking through Maedhros’ luggage. Maedhros could no longer claim to be working on the legal brief now; all of that work was finished. He would have to leave before much longer, probably as soon as his grandfather arrived for the twins’ naming day.

“Glorfindel, would you bring me that small inlaid box please?”

“Of course.”

Maedhros carefully took the box from Glorfindel and opened it. He removed a small cloth bag and opened that, revealing an elegant ring of mithril set with what appeared to be a diamond.
“When he is old enough, I want him to have this,” Maedhros said. “My father made one for each of us boys; the stone is something that he created himself*.”

“It’s not a diamond? What is it called then?” he asked curiously. But even as he spoke he knew it could not be possibly be a mere diamond. Glorfindel stared, fascinated by the beautiful gem.

“Father never told me its name, but if you take it outside under the stars, it will blaze with blue and silver fire.”

“I will put it in our safe,” Glorfindel said as he replaced the ring in its bag. “I will see that he receives it on the day of his majority.”

*
One month later, the House of the Golden Flower officially welcomed its two newest members: twins. Unusual to begin with, these twins were even more of a rarity since they were brother and sister.

Finwë and Indis attended their naming ceremony that was held at the estate, since Lávarien was too faint and weary after the twins’ birth to travel the long distance to the capital of Tirion.

“What do you name these children?” Finwë asked as he started to prepare the scroll that would record their birth.

“The girl is to be named Laicalassë and her brother will be named Laiquelasse,” Laurëangoldo replied.

Maedhros had been standing quietly to one side during the ceremony, his face and eyes showing nothing but polite interest in the proceedings. Only Glorfindel and his parents had any idea of how distraught the prince had been when he finally handed over his first-born son to them.
When the ceremony and reception were finally over, Finwë gestured for Maedhros to stand beside him.

“Are you well, grandson? You look paler than usual.”

“I have been busy at work in the library, Grandfather,” Maedhros replied as he dipped his head in obeisance. “The research took longer than I thought it would.”

“Have you finished the drafts, then? You know I am most anxious to have the next legislative session to be more productive than the last one was.”

“I am sure that it will be, Grandfather.” Maedhros smiled fondly at his grandfather. “I will see to it - as long as you allow me to stay with you. I fear that Father still believes he can make me into a smith of his caliber, and we both know that is very unlikely.”

“Do not worry, grandson. I will see that you are kept beside me at court.” Finwë clapped a hand on Maedhros’ thin shoulder and frowned. The boy needed to eat better; why Fëanáro complained about the lad becoming fat and lazy at court was a mystery to him. “Besides, all know that your little brother Curufinwë is the one who inherited your father’s skill at the forge.”

They both smiled at that, for Curufinwë had begun to follow Fëanáro around when he could scarcely crawl.

“Thank you, Grandfather. Will you excuse me? I think that Glorfindel is feeling a bit left out.” Maedhros smoothly made his way to Glorfindel’s side.

“Of course, my boy.” Finwë watched Maedhros as he went and began to speaking to Glorfindel in a low tone. His eldest grandson was the most thoughtful of his family; he often went out of his way to make sure no one felt pushed aside or ignored. It was too bad that Fëanáro had not inherited such skill; he thought and then instantly felt ashamed of himself for being so harshly critical of his eldest son.

*
Maedhros settled himself in his grandfather’s carriage and steeled himself for the inevitable questions. Grandfather always took two carriages when travelling any distance - he said that it was easier on the ladies to have a carriage to themselves rather than have so many people crowded into a single one. He hated to leave the quiet and serenity of Laurëalótë but it was time for him to resume his old life at court. Secretly Maedhros had wondered if he really could do it. But for some reason, Grandfather seemed disinclined to talk, saying that he only wished to enjoy the ride back - the time for discussing court business would come soon enough when they were back in Tirion.

Both Grandfather and Maitimo saw that the ladies were helped and settled into their own private carriage, for it was more enclosed so they would be less troubled by the sun and wind.
The trip back went smoothly and for once neither Finwë nor Maedhros had much to say; instead, they both dozed off several times during the ride. The sound of the wheels on cobblestones jarred Maedhros awake and before he realized it, he was entering his private suite at the palace once more.

Back in Tirion, Glorfindel sent him occasional letters that mentioned his little ‘brother’ but it was not quite enough. Maedhros understood the need for discretion but frustratingly, the many letters that Indis received from Lávarien about the babies were seldom read to any except her daughters and their ladies-in-waiting, for such news was deemed of little interest to the men.

As a result, Maedhros took a keen interest in the young elflings that occasionally crossed his path at court. It amused his grandfather no end; Finwë seemed to think it meant that he was thinking of starting a family of his own and teased him about finding a suitable wife. If only Grandfather knew the truth of the matter! But Maedhros remained silent and only smiled at his family’s un-subtle match-making plans.

*

“Why don’t you find a wife, brother?” asked Maglor as Maedhros and he shared a quiet drink with Fingon and Turgon in the palace gardens after one particularly late banquet.

“Yes, Timo.” chimed in Fingon. “Why, even little Turko has an arrangement to be married; he just has to wait for her to come of age.”

“Shut up,” muttered Turgon as he jabbed Fingon in the ribs. He still felt embarrassed, for he had only learned of the arrangement earlier that evening, less than an hour before it was announced at the banquet. The girl - Elenwë - looked pretty enough and spoke as if she had some sense to her, so he supposed that she would do. But he remained annoyed that his father had not told him sooner.

“And just who would you suggest that I marry?” laughed Maedhros. “Besides, don’t you think our family is large enough as it is now?”

“Glorfindel has a baby sister - perhaps you could ask his parents to consider your suit for her hand.” Maglor mused half to himself. “After all, Father does like them a little. Best of all, there is no closely shared blood.”

“What!” Maedhros choked badly on the wine, causing the nearly-full glass to spill on his shirt. “That’s not funny, Kano. I don’t need you meddling in my life; not you or anyone else for that matter. Mother and Father are enough for anyone to put up with,” he snapped.
Both Fingon and Turgon laughed out loud, albeit somewhat nervously, for Maedhros seldom got upset over anything and he rarely snapped at anyone, especially Maglor. But his temper was up now and it showed no signs of cooling off.

“I was just thinking out loud.” Maglor looked closely at Maedhros, feeling a bit worried, for having so many younger brothers tended to give one a sense of equanimity about life. “You should know me better than that.”

“Well, keep your thoughts inside your head next time,” the eldest prince muttered as he poured himself a fresh glass of wine. He gulped it down quickly, before drinking two more in rapid succession, causing the three younger elves to stare worriedly at him. Maedhros stared back at them, sneering slightly. “If you three don’t mind, I am off now to find more congenial company who will not meddle in my private affairs. Good night.”

Maedhros stood up and swayed for a moment before he stalked away to a darkened part of the large formal gardens.

“Do you think we should we follow him?” asked Fingon after a few moments silence. “He might fall or something.”

“He’ll be fine,” Maglor said at last. “My brother seldom shows his temper but when he does, it’s better just to stay away from him until he cools off.” Wisely, Maglor did not add that it might take several days or even a week for this to happen.

“If you say so.” Fingon sounded rather doubtful but Maglor probably knew best. He decided to turn his attention back to his younger brother. “So Turko, what do you think of your bride to be?”

“She’s nice and doesn’t smell bad and she chews with her mouth closed.” Turgon realized his mistake in answering before he thought clearly as Fingon and Maglor fell off the bench, rolling on the ground and laughing loudly.

“That’s my little brother, the diplomat-in-training.” Fingon finally managed to say as soon as he caught his breath again. “None of this sappy, lovey-dovey stuff for Turko; he believes in being practical.”

“Well, I hope that he can think of a few other virtues for her,” Maglor gasped, holding on to his side as if his ribs pained him. “Preferably something to do with her eyes and hair, perhaps her skill at dancing or as an artist, because I cannot write a song to celebrate their wedding based on the bride ‘not smelling bad and chewing with her mouth closed’.”

“Oh but you should write that, cousin,” Fingon said with a snicker. “Indeed, you will become famous for writing the first honest song about a bride.”

This sent both of them into gales of laughter once more, while Turgon glared at both of them and then sighed. There was no point in staying around any longer; they would simply continue to laugh at him and he was not in the mood for being teased any further.

*

The wedding of Turgon and Elenwë was a lavish affair. Laicalassë and Laiquelasse served as flower girl and ring bearer and for once Maedhros was able to gaze at his son as much as he wanted without any fear of repercussion.

Unfortunately for him, his father noticed his interest in the little twins and decided it was time for yet another lecture.

“I have told you time and again,” Fëanáro said when they were in private, “that it is past time for you to marry and beget children. At this rate, Amrod and Amras will be grandfathers before you have your first child.”

It was one of Fëanáro’s favorite themes, and Maedhros felt chilled and hoped desperately that his father would not notice his nervousness each time he brought it up.

“Really, Father.” Maedhros replied in an annoyed voice. “Is it not enough that I have helped with the raising of my own brothers? I feel as if I have already raised a family.”

Fëanáro glared at his eldest son but said nothing, for he had just noticed Amrod and Amras hovering near the punchbowl -- which was never a good sign.

Names:
Glorfindel (aka: Laurefindil, Laurefin, Lauron)
Laurëangoldo (golden Noldor elf): Glorfindel’s father
Lávarien (golden blossom): Glorfindel’s mother
Laicalassë (green leaf): Glorfindel’s sister
Laiquelasse (herb leaf): Glorfindel’s ‘brother’ but in reality, Glorfindel’s son by Maedhros
Laurëalótë (golden flower): the name of Glorfindel’s family estate - the House of the Golden Flower

*The gems are an early variation of the Silmarils, and mentioned on p. 69 of ‘The Silmarillion.’

~*~

Year 112, First Age

“Father, I am sorry but I must go.” Laiquelasse spoke with great decisiveness. “My brother needs my help.”

“You are still too young.” Laurëangoldo was upset over his grandson’s decision. It had been bad enough when Glorfindel left home to attend Prince Fingolfin during his regency in Tirion but when Fingolfin had decided to follow his elder half-brother Fëanáro on his mad quest, Glorfindel had still felt obligated to go with them. “It is wiser if you stay here with your family.”

“Glorfindel is my family too.” Laiquelasse’s blue-grey eyes had a very determined glint that was far more reminiscent of his other parent than that of the family who raised him.

Both Laurëangoldo and Lávarien had rushed to Tirion in a last effort to convince Glorfindel to ask leave of the Prince to remain home but Glorfindel had heard Fëanáro’s impassioned speech in the square, and his blood was aflame. Laurëangoldo understood better than Lávarien how this could happen, for he had heard Prince Fëanáro speak in the legislative chambers many times when he wanted to make his ideas known or if there was a certain law that he favored - such laws invariably passed with little argument.

“I will go, for I must.” Laiquelasse repeated more quietly. “But I would rather go with your blessing, father.”

The little family made the long trip to Alqalondë to see Laiquelasse safely on his journey. They had been there many times before, in happier times, to vacation there and visit friends and family. But since the Kinslaying, they had only returned once to help with rebuilding. Although no one was supposed to leave the Blessed Isle, but there were still many who did.

Officially, Círdan was supposed to bring only passengers back from the new lands but it soon became apparent to everyone that to sail back with an empty ship was sheer folly. Even the Valar reluctantly agreed that if Círdan took back various goods that were needed - and a few unofficial passengers, they would not interfere.

~*~