Aug 6 - Rolling With The Punches
Title: Rolling With The Punches
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Anairë just wanted the day to run smoothly...
Word Count: 1330
Anairë breathed a sigh of relief that more of the crowd hadn’t caught what Daeron had said.
After so many years of waiting to catch a glimpse of Elrond’s older children, most Noldor would not take lightly Thingol trying to claim the hero princess who was as much theirs as the Sindar’s. And to think the point of this had been to ease the girl into Tirion as gently as possible without setting off any silly fights!
She knew she could trust Eärwen to handle telling off Elwë, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t terribly tempting to write a strongly-worded letter to Queen Melian.
Her husband was fuming. He’d done his best to stay clear of Thingol since he returned - Nolo said he’d dealt with him enough in Beleriand. He’d been privately furious with Turukano for making it impossible to avoid Thingol. And he was still smarting about that incident while he was in the Halls and unable to protect or even support her.
Not long after Celebrían and baby Anariel had disappeared, tempers had been running high in both the Lindarin and Noldorin courts as they tried to understand such an unfathomable loss. They hadn’t known about California then - they hadn’t even known if Celebrían and the baby were alive or dead. All they had known was that both girls were gone.
Thingol had chosen that of all times to publicly refer to Anairë as a kinslayer.
She knew Finno had contributed to the bloodshed at Alqualondë, and she’d had to face Eärwen’s parents with that knowledge. That had been horror enough. But to be accused of it herself, for nothing more than speaking the language she’d been born to…
It had taken several very trying months to bring the king of lost Doriath to reason and another one to wring an apology from him. In the end, it had only come after Elwing had a furious row with her great-grandfather on the grounds that she spoke Noldorin on occasion, and her husband did so regularly as it was his mother-tongue. Her sons had both grown up speaking Noldorin, and presumably Elrond was teaching it to his children. She’d then demanded to know if he meant to call all that remained of his line Kinslayers also?
It turned out Thingol would back down in the face of furious granddaughters.
Anairë was rather curious to see how he would handle the smallest one, who was such a natural warrior that she had been named Slayer in two worlds.
Anariel hadn’t looked surprised by Eluchíl, though. Had she known of it in advance?
Even if she did, I doubt she understands the effect announcing it here would have, Nolofinwë said wryly.
How could she? Arafinwë asked. It’s her second day in Tirion, and the remaining Noldor in Endorë could be counted on one’s fingers by the time she returned to Imladris.
The children did not swear fealty - no child of Elrond’s swore anything - but it was not until she was listening to an interestingly worded declaration that it occurred to Anairë that she’d been so focused on the family dinner that she’d clean forgotten to stage manage the formal part of the afternoon.
I am so sorry, Ara, she sighed. I didn’t think to script their words as we did for Elrond!
It may be just as well you did not, he sighed. I rather think the boys knew perfectly well what they were saying - and not saying - there.
At least the boys had gone first. That meant Anariel should just be following their lead - yes, she was using the exact same words.
They did not do too badly for something made up on the spot, she sighed. Though it might have been better had we been able to coach her on the usual pronunciation of some of those words.
Oh, I think she pronounced them just fine, Nolo replied, his tone shuttling between amusement and exasperation. Once again, Naro would be insufferable were he only here to hear her.
Anairë only needed to glance at Artanis to see her eyes were full of laughter - she at least had known perfectly well that her littlest granddaughter sounded like the son of Þerindë. Though she was somewhat surprised Artanis of all people found it funny. She had detested Naro by the Darkening. Anairë didn't see the humor.
Oh, it’s a little funny, Ammë, Irissë informed her, trying not to giggle.
She shot both girls a quelling look. She would dearly love to know how Artanis intended to explain this little tempest to her husband, who likely took the same dim view of Naro and his sons as most Sindar did.
Then she smothered a gasp as Anariel turned with her brothers to face the crowd rather than Ara.
The front of her dress had been bad enough. Not only could anyone who recalled the Years of the Trees recognize whose it had originally been, the rework had left it with a lower neckline than a princess of the Noldor ought to wear - and no sleeves. But the back was worse, plunging so low one could very nearly see the girl’s gluteal cleft! How had Carnistir seen fit to let her leave his parents’ house like this?
What under the stars is holding that dress up? Anairë demanded in horror.
The eyes of every unattached elf in Tirion interested in women, if I had to guess, was Nolo’s wry reply.
Just wait until she got hold of her nephew…
I think she wears it well, Eärwen remarked.
It would be lovely for Alqualondë, Anairë admitted. But this is Tirion and people will talk…
Look on the bright side, Ana, Eärwen suggested. I think everyone’s eyes are firmly glued to her back, which means no one has noticed her feet.
Anairë could have absolutely melted into the floor when she looked down to discover their granddaughter had arrived at the King’s House barefoot. She hadn’t noticed either - nor had she thought for a even a second about sending Master Lianis to Nerdanel’s. She’d assumed when word had been brought that they’d dress the girl, it meant everything was in hand.
She can’t dance like that! Anairë fretted.
Why not?
Ara and Artanis had spoken as one.
I suspect Auntie didn’t have shoes in her size, or at least not any that matched her outfit. Anariel is fashion-conscious enough to refuse to wear workaday boots with such a dress, much less shoes that don’t match, Artanis continued. I doubt it occurred to her that no shoes would be remarked upon - we dispensed with them regularly in Lothlorien. She’ll dance well enough, rest assured.
But all the boys are wearing boots, Anairë pointed out. What about her feet?
I don’t think anyone is going to tread on her toes, Nolo assured her.
Woe betide whoever does, was Artanis’ reply. But Gildor seems to have won the draw for the first dance, and he certainly won’t.
They look well together, Anairë offered, trying not to fret.
She looks on him as an uncle, Artanis informed them all, sounding amused. If anyone attempts matchmaking, I can’t say which of them will be more horrified.
At least one thing went smoothly.
Anariel seemed to be getting on with Arador - well enough for them to show everyone else up with one of the more daring dances. Given that ‘everyone’ included Artanis and Irissë and their husbands, Anairë wondered if they’d purposely held back to let the young ones shine.
Hardly. I know better than to try to keep up with her, Artanis sniffed. And I warned Irissë.
A few more dances - in which thankfully no one attempted to displace Arador - and Anairë felt a weight lift from her shoulders as the court was dismissed.
The rest of the day was family only, and that meant she could relax. It might not have gone entirely as they’d planned, but Anariel was where she was supposed to be now, with her family around her.
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Anairë just wanted the day to run smoothly...
Word Count: 1330
Anairë breathed a sigh of relief that more of the crowd hadn’t caught what Daeron had said.
After so many years of waiting to catch a glimpse of Elrond’s older children, most Noldor would not take lightly Thingol trying to claim the hero princess who was as much theirs as the Sindar’s. And to think the point of this had been to ease the girl into Tirion as gently as possible without setting off any silly fights!
She knew she could trust Eärwen to handle telling off Elwë, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t terribly tempting to write a strongly-worded letter to Queen Melian.
Her husband was fuming. He’d done his best to stay clear of Thingol since he returned - Nolo said he’d dealt with him enough in Beleriand. He’d been privately furious with Turukano for making it impossible to avoid Thingol. And he was still smarting about that incident while he was in the Halls and unable to protect or even support her.
Not long after Celebrían and baby Anariel had disappeared, tempers had been running high in both the Lindarin and Noldorin courts as they tried to understand such an unfathomable loss. They hadn’t known about California then - they hadn’t even known if Celebrían and the baby were alive or dead. All they had known was that both girls were gone.
Thingol had chosen that of all times to publicly refer to Anairë as a kinslayer.
She knew Finno had contributed to the bloodshed at Alqualondë, and she’d had to face Eärwen’s parents with that knowledge. That had been horror enough. But to be accused of it herself, for nothing more than speaking the language she’d been born to…
It had taken several very trying months to bring the king of lost Doriath to reason and another one to wring an apology from him. In the end, it had only come after Elwing had a furious row with her great-grandfather on the grounds that she spoke Noldorin on occasion, and her husband did so regularly as it was his mother-tongue. Her sons had both grown up speaking Noldorin, and presumably Elrond was teaching it to his children. She’d then demanded to know if he meant to call all that remained of his line Kinslayers also?
It turned out Thingol would back down in the face of furious granddaughters.
Anairë was rather curious to see how he would handle the smallest one, who was such a natural warrior that she had been named Slayer in two worlds.
Anariel hadn’t looked surprised by Eluchíl, though. Had she known of it in advance?
Even if she did, I doubt she understands the effect announcing it here would have, Nolofinwë said wryly.
How could she? Arafinwë asked. It’s her second day in Tirion, and the remaining Noldor in Endorë could be counted on one’s fingers by the time she returned to Imladris.
The children did not swear fealty - no child of Elrond’s swore anything - but it was not until she was listening to an interestingly worded declaration that it occurred to Anairë that she’d been so focused on the family dinner that she’d clean forgotten to stage manage the formal part of the afternoon.
I am so sorry, Ara, she sighed. I didn’t think to script their words as we did for Elrond!
It may be just as well you did not, he sighed. I rather think the boys knew perfectly well what they were saying - and not saying - there.
At least the boys had gone first. That meant Anariel should just be following their lead - yes, she was using the exact same words.
They did not do too badly for something made up on the spot, she sighed. Though it might have been better had we been able to coach her on the usual pronunciation of some of those words.
Oh, I think she pronounced them just fine, Nolo replied, his tone shuttling between amusement and exasperation. Once again, Naro would be insufferable were he only here to hear her.
Anairë only needed to glance at Artanis to see her eyes were full of laughter - she at least had known perfectly well that her littlest granddaughter sounded like the son of Þerindë. Though she was somewhat surprised Artanis of all people found it funny. She had detested Naro by the Darkening. Anairë didn't see the humor.
Oh, it’s a little funny, Ammë, Irissë informed her, trying not to giggle.
She shot both girls a quelling look. She would dearly love to know how Artanis intended to explain this little tempest to her husband, who likely took the same dim view of Naro and his sons as most Sindar did.
Then she smothered a gasp as Anariel turned with her brothers to face the crowd rather than Ara.
The front of her dress had been bad enough. Not only could anyone who recalled the Years of the Trees recognize whose it had originally been, the rework had left it with a lower neckline than a princess of the Noldor ought to wear - and no sleeves. But the back was worse, plunging so low one could very nearly see the girl’s gluteal cleft! How had Carnistir seen fit to let her leave his parents’ house like this?
What under the stars is holding that dress up? Anairë demanded in horror.
The eyes of every unattached elf in Tirion interested in women, if I had to guess, was Nolo’s wry reply.
Just wait until she got hold of her nephew…
I think she wears it well, Eärwen remarked.
It would be lovely for Alqualondë, Anairë admitted. But this is Tirion and people will talk…
Look on the bright side, Ana, Eärwen suggested. I think everyone’s eyes are firmly glued to her back, which means no one has noticed her feet.
Anairë could have absolutely melted into the floor when she looked down to discover their granddaughter had arrived at the King’s House barefoot. She hadn’t noticed either - nor had she thought for a even a second about sending Master Lianis to Nerdanel’s. She’d assumed when word had been brought that they’d dress the girl, it meant everything was in hand.
She can’t dance like that! Anairë fretted.
Why not?
Ara and Artanis had spoken as one.
I suspect Auntie didn’t have shoes in her size, or at least not any that matched her outfit. Anariel is fashion-conscious enough to refuse to wear workaday boots with such a dress, much less shoes that don’t match, Artanis continued. I doubt it occurred to her that no shoes would be remarked upon - we dispensed with them regularly in Lothlorien. She’ll dance well enough, rest assured.
But all the boys are wearing boots, Anairë pointed out. What about her feet?
I don’t think anyone is going to tread on her toes, Nolo assured her.
Woe betide whoever does, was Artanis’ reply. But Gildor seems to have won the draw for the first dance, and he certainly won’t.
They look well together, Anairë offered, trying not to fret.
She looks on him as an uncle, Artanis informed them all, sounding amused. If anyone attempts matchmaking, I can’t say which of them will be more horrified.
At least one thing went smoothly.
Anariel seemed to be getting on with Arador - well enough for them to show everyone else up with one of the more daring dances. Given that ‘everyone’ included Artanis and Irissë and their husbands, Anairë wondered if they’d purposely held back to let the young ones shine.
Hardly. I know better than to try to keep up with her, Artanis sniffed. And I warned Irissë.
A few more dances - in which thankfully no one attempted to displace Arador - and Anairë felt a weight lift from her shoulders as the court was dismissed.
The rest of the day was family only, and that meant she could relax. It might not have gone entirely as they’d planned, but Anariel was where she was supposed to be now, with her family around her.