Title: And Now For Something Completely Different
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: Did someone say party?
Word Count: 1150
Note: Not quite as I'd intended, but out of time.
Elrohir watched his sister. Anariel appeared to be trying to see through the wall separating the gardens of the King’s House from the rest of Tirion.
She’d had several quiet days in a row, going the best part of a week without scandalizing any grandmothers. Her room was starting to look more like hers (though weaponless - no one was budging on ‘weapons are only in the armory’ rule.)
“What are you up to?” he asked.
“Wondering what all the noise is,” she replied. “You hear it too, don’t you?”
“I believe there’s some sort of festival,” Elrohir said cautiously.
“The festival of Vana,” Elladan said, joining them. “If I’ve understood it, it’s an excellent excuse to indulge in wine, food, and song. I think the Noldor forgo the other thing the Sindar would usually indulge in at such times.”
“Their loss,” Anariel snickered. “Seems appropriate for a festival of Vana, though.”
She frowned.
“Are we supposed to skip it?”
Little sister, you are the one who has a slight problem with new people, Elrohir pointed out.
“I think Grandmother and Aunt Anairë have worked out that you should make a short public appearance on the front steps, but otherwise be left to settle in without obligatons.”
Arador wasn’t quite stealthy enough to sneak up on three warriors well used to being on their guard in Middle-earth (and one of them the Slayer to boot) but he was very quiet when he wanted to be.
Anariel made a face.
“Do we have to?” she asked. “I’m not in a formal mood. And it would be interesting to see what a Noldorin festival looks like.”
You’ll pay for it later on, Elladan warned her tightly.
Pay me now or pay me later, Anariel said with a mental shrug.
The California expression, as near as Elrohir could tell, meant she didn’t see much difference.
“You can’t go out like that,” Arador pointed out.
Elrohir and his brother gave the boy matching glares for encouraging bad ideas.
“Why? I thought this was dressy. Uncle Moryo said so!”
To the twins’ deep relief, while Carnistir might now be their sister’s favorite fashion advisor, thus far he had only put her in one outfit originally belonging to Celegorm. Today’s was a hand-me-down from Grandmother, which Anariel had pronounced ok. (The fabric was far stiffer and more difficult to move in than she was used to.)
“It is, but isn’t it Aunt Galadriel’s? Not to mention, from the Years of the Trees?”
“It’ll stand out?” Anariel asked with a frown. “I don’t want everyone noticing I’m out and about. I just want to scope out what it’s like without the official bother.”
“You mean the bother of being official,” Elladan muttered.
“I suspect you’d do better with something you brought with you,” Arador told her. “Same for you two if you’re coming.”
“Coming?” Elrohir snorted. “If you think we’re letting her go haring off with just you…”
“They’re going to change,” Anariel said firmly. “Come on, help me pick something.”
Meet back here in ten! she ordered her brothers.
She and Arador were already disappearing in the direction of her rooms.
“This is a terrible idea,” Elladan sighed.
“What other kind does she have?” Elrohir asked.
Did Arwen pack anything for you two? Anariel asked. Cause that’s what I’m going with!
“There’s also the kind that start trouble,” Elladan answered.
“I’m curious to see what Arwen thought was a good idea for Tirion,” Elrohir told him.
Ten minutes later, three children of Elrond and one Inglorion were standing by the garden walls.
The twins outfits were a dark blue, but aside from the color, not terribly different from festival clothing back home.
Anariel was wearing a summery gown of bright blues and greens with small golden flowers and suns embroidered on it in a pattern that looked irregular at first glance, but on second look proved to be a subtle spiral. While there was a sheer section on the back, the knee length and high neck meant it was less daring than what she’d worn to her presentation to the Noldaran.
Arwen had intended her little sister to be comfortable and colorful - and not to pick sides. The blues were cloudless skies and summer seas, the greens not unlike the leaves of some of the tropical flowers in the royal gardens.
The outfit also had matching shoes.
Elrohir couldn’t help the snicker.
I think everyone learned, Anariel remarked.
“Right, are we ready?” she added aloud.
“This isn’t likely to last very long,” Arador warned them. “Your size and your hair are going to give you away quickly.”
Anariel wrinkled her nose for a second, then pulled the loose wraparound sash off her dress and used it to cover her hair tightly in the fashion of some of the Avarin bands in the east.
“And now the hair’s not so obvious,” she shrugged. “Good enough?”
Arador nodded.
“Is there a gate?” Elrohir asked. “Or are we hopping the wall?”
“I thought we’d go through the library,” Arador said. “We can cross over using the private walkway, and then go out one of the side doors. We’ll blend in with the crowd and no one will notice us.”
“I like it,” Anariel nodded. “Lead the way.”
Elrohir thought she appreciated that the indirect route would also mean she’d know how to get to the library. That might be more Tindomiel’s spot than hers, but his smaller sister did like to know ‘where the books live’.
All three children of Elrond nearly got distracted by the library, which proved to be much larger and grander than they had expected based on what little they’d heard about it so far.
“Wow,” was Anariel’s quiet assessment.
“Another time,” Elladan suggested. “The library is not going anywhere. The festival…”
“The festival lasts another two days, you could stay in here if you really wanted to,” Arador said. “It’s closed to the public, so you’d have it all to yourself.”
"Another time," Anariel said, sounding slightly less than convinced.
The side door let them out onto a small street that ran between the library and the palace - the same street they had crossed over in the private walkway. Anariel skipped down the steps and toward the main square, stopping just short of where she would be easily visible to the revelers beyond.
For a moment, Elrohir thought his sister might reconsider. The square had been packed the day she had arrived, but it wasn’t much emptier today. This was more elves than either of them had seen in one place in their lives.
But in the end, between the music drifting toward them - a competing mix of Noldorin and Sindarin that made him wonder if Daeron had returned to Thingol’s lands, or merely found somewhere else to stay - and her own curiosity, Anariel moved forward, arm in arm with Arador, eager to find out what Tirion in a party mood looked like.