Letting Go

Annael slowed his steps and waited while the group of laughing neighbors crossed the bridge and went up the steps into the palace.  One of them called a greeting to Annael's mother, who called back, then turned to Emmelin, walking next to her.  She straightened the lace on the back of Emmelin's collar.

"You look beautiful, granddaughter."

Emmelin gave a tight laugh.  "I hope so.  Somehow I had not realized everyone within a day's ride would be at my betrothal announcement."

Emmelin's back was to Annael, so he could not see his daughter's face, but he heard the tension in her voice.  Next to him, Beliniel made a low sound.  Annael squeezed his wife's hand.  "She will be fine," he murmured.

His mother patted Emmelin's arm.  "Sinnarn is the king's grandson, his oldest son's heir, so the betrothal matters even beyond the usual joining of two houses.  You have to expect some fuss."

"I suppose so," Emmelin said.

To Annael's embarrassment, he too felt a flutter in his gut.  It was ridiculous for him to be nervous.  He had been in and out of the palace thousands of times, usually to see Legolas, though occasionally in his role as warrior.  This was different though.  Tonight, he would publicly consent to his daughter's marrying the grandson of the king, the son of the Troop Commander.

He did not object to Sinnarn. Or rather he supposed he did a little.  He would undoubtedly be anxious over his only child taking the irrevocable step of bonding with anyone, but in marrying Sinnarn, she would be joining the royal family, with all the stress, privileges, and restrictions that brought with it.  Over the years, Annael had seen enough of Legolas's private life to know that the restrictions might be less immediately visible than the privileges, but they weighed more heavily.

Emmelin paused and glanced over her shoulder at him and Beliniel.  Then she set her foot firmly on the bottom step and climbed up to the palace entrance.

In the antechamber, Sinnarn waited with Ithilden on one side of him and Alfirin on the other.  Face aglow, Sinnarn came forward to take Emmelin's hands and plant a kiss on her cheek.  Then he stepped back, still gripping her hands in his and grinning down at her.

Ithilden spoke a little more loudly than usual.  "Mae govannen, all of you."

Sinnarn started and flushed.  "Yes, mae govannen."  Hastily, he bowed to Elowen and Beliniel and then clasped arms with Annael.  Annael could not help smiling at the earnest look Sinnarn gave him.  The young elf had been doing all he could to impress Annael for some time now.

Annael exchanged greetings with Alfirin, then found himself facing Ithilden.  Into his mind sprang a memory of running up the palace steps with his head turned back to listen to something Legolas was saying.

Annael's shoulder crashed into something large and solid, and the next thing he knew, he was sprawling on the antechamber floor, his head swimming.

"Are you all right?" a deep voice asked, and Annael looked up to see Legolas's big brother towering over him.  Not Eilian.  Annael knew him because he sometimes played with them.  This was the other brother, the serious one who had snapped at him, Legolas, and Turgon the day he caught them chasing his stallion around the paddock.

"Are you three trying to kill yourselves?" Ithilden had asked.  "Out of here now!  Do not let me catch you near Dragon again."

Lying on the floor of the antechamber, Annael gulped.  "I am sorry I bumped you, my lord."

The corners of Ithilden's mouth twitched.  "You need to watch where you are going, little one.  Let me help you up."  He reached out a hand.

Ithilden reached out a hand to clasp Annael's arm.  "It is good to see you, Annael.  Come.  The Great Hall is in readiness, and I believe the young people are eager to get on with things."  He smiled at Sinnarn and Emmelin, who had clasped hands and were once again looking at one another, their faces flushed.

"Of course, my lord."  Annael took Beliniel's arm.  His mother stepped behind him.

They waited.  After a moment's silence, Ithilden said, "Sinnarn?"

Sinnarn jumped.  "Sorry."  The color in his face deepened.  Keeping hold of Emmelin's hand, he moved toward the doors into the Great Hall.

Ithilden nodded to the two smiling attendants, who pulled the doors wide, revealing a sea of faces, all turning toward them.

Emmelin opened and closed her free hand, as she had done when she was nervous since she was a little maid.  Annael's heart clutched.  Were they doing the right thing in blessing this betrothal?

Sinnarn led Emmelin into the Hall and down the wide aisle between the tables ranged around the room.  A low murmur rose to a cheer and then applause.  Every face in the room seemed to be smiling.

Ithilden and Alfirin followed the young couple, and Annael, Beliniel, and Elowen brought up the rear.  They circled behind the head table where Thranduil's steward directed them to their appointed seats.  Annael found himself between Beliniel and Alfirin.  Beyond Alfirin was Ithilden, and Annael was grateful to see Legolas grinning at him from the seat on Ithilden's other side.

Next to Beliniel was the king's empty chair.  On its other side, Emmelin moved to seat herself, but Sinnarn touched her arm and motioned almost imperceptibly for her to stand.  Pink faced, she imitated him and stood behind her chair to wait for Thranduil.  Annael flinched for her.  She had been to many feasts in the Great Hall, so she knew the king always entered last and everyone stood until he arrived.  She must be flustered.  Her grandmother smiled across Sinnarn at her.  Next to Elowen, Eilian and Celuwen appeared to be involved in some sort of low-voiced argument.

A stir in the doorway warned of Thranduil's arrival.  Smiling broadly, the king strode down the aisle, came to his seat, and bent to kiss Emmelin's cheek.  The crowd cheered. Thranduil seated himself and they all followed suit.  Servants entered with platters of roast pork, meat pies, and trout stuffed with mushrooms.

Annael sat back while food was piled on his plate.  The smell of it made his mouth water, but he could not help contrasting this crowded, formal scene with the gathering at which his betrothal to Beliniel had been announced.  He and his mother had still been mourning his father, but in the garden behind his mother's cottage, they had gathered neighbors and friends and celebrated the love that had left him dazed and struck anew with life's beauty and the possibility of happiness.

Beneath the tablecloth, he laid a hand on Beliniel's thigh.  Her mouth curved, and his heart bounded with the joy of what lay like a shared secret between them.  He looked down the table at Emmelin.  She loved Sinnarn, and Sinnarn treasured her nearly as much as she deserved.  Annael knew that, or he would never have consented to this betrothal.  But in the public, pressured life of the palace, would that love flourish?  Would there be enough moments for her and Sinnarn alone?

Beliniel nudged him, and he realized that Ithilden was talking to him across Alfirin, whose brows were drawn down.

"I beg your pardon, my lord?" Annael said.

"I wondered if you thought we needed to do more novice training on locating spiders.  With so many orcs killed at Erebor, the spiders are obviously our biggest problem now, and I am afraid young warriors find the spiders less exciting and sometimes pay less attention to them."

"Indeed they do," Annael said slowly.

Annael braced himself to attention.  From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Fómbor too with his shoulders thrown back and gaze straight ahead.

Eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, Ithilden shoved his face close to Annael's.  "As I recall, you are supposed to be a warrior now.  What in Arda were you thinking?"

The silence stretched long enough that Annael feared the Troop Commander expected an answer.  "We thought we saw signs of Orcs, sir, and we were concentrating on them."

"That kind of concentration can land you flat on the forest floor with a spider on your back!  You two are unbelievably fortunate my guards and I came along when we did."

Annael swallowed.  The Commander did not have to convince him of his good fortune, even if that fortune had ended with him and Fómbor being dressed down by the Troop Commander in front of half-a-dozen experienced warriors.  Annael's heart still had not slowed to its normal pace, although having Ithilden in his face could account for that.

Ithilden backed away slightly.  "I will be speaking to your captain.  I imagine he too will have something to say to you on the topic of keeping an eye out for spiders, and I promise you that if I ever again hear of you not paying attention, you will regret it."

"More attention to spiders could not hurt," Annael said.  It occurred to him that Ithilden probably should have asked Legolas about this issue.  After all, Legolas was the Home Guard captain.  Annael was only his lieutenant.  He blinked.  Could Ithilden be trying to be friendly?

"This is not the time or place to talk about hunting spiders."  Alfirin leaned forward to see Beliniel.  "How is your garden growing this year?  I saw the other day that your peas were ready to be picked."

Annael forked up a bit of pork and listened as the women talked.  The meal passed pleasantly enough, and then the servants came and cleared away the dishes.  The guests rose and moved aside while the tables too were pushed out of the way.

"I think it is time."  Ithilden came to his feet and pulled back Alfirin's chair.

Annael exchanged a long look with Beliniel.  Then she smiled and rose.  Emmelin and Sinnarn had already followed Ithilden to the center of the room.

"Come," Beliniel said softly.  "She has made her choice."

He sighed and followed her to join his daughter and her prospective husband and parents-by-marriage.  The other people in the room gathered around them.  Even Thranduil was a bystander to this moment.

"Friends," Alfirin said, "Ithilden and I have invited you here to announce the betrothal of our son, Sinnarn, to Emmelin, the daughter of Annael and Beliniel.  We rejoice with our son in his choice and invite you to rejoice with us."  She turned to Annael and waited.

Annael looked at his daughter, whose face was turned up to Sinnarn's, her eyes glittering so brightly he knew she had tears in them.  He could barely hold himself back from wiping them away, as he had done from the day she was born, any time she hurt in body or in spirit.  That privilege she was placing now in the keeping of Sinnarn, who looked down at her with wonder and hope in his face.

Annael cleared his throat.  "Friends, Beliniel and I have invited you here to announce the betrothal of our daughter, Emmelin, to Sinnarn, the son of Ithilden and Alfirin.  We rejoice with our daughter in her choice and invite you to rejoice with us."

Beliniel patted his arm, then handed a silver ring to their daughter.  Emmelin slid it onto the index finger of Sinnarn's right hand.  "My heart has chosen you, Sinnarn.  Let this ring be a sign of my promise to bond with you when the time is right."

Sinnarn nearly dropped the ring Ithilden handed him, but he snatched it from the air and slid it on Emmelin's finger.  "My heart has chosen you, Emmelin.  Let this ring be a sign of my promise to bond with you when the time is right."  He hesitated only an instant, then bent and kissed her.

The crowd let out a long "ahhh."  Then Thranduil signaled, and musicians began to play a lively tune.  Sinnarn caught Emmelin in his arms and whirled her away, laughing.

Alfirin turned to Beliniel.  "Would you like to see some of the rooms they will be able to choose to live in?"

Beliniel brightened.  "I would indeed."  Alfirin led her from the room.

Annael backed toward the wall, moving out of the way of a growing swarm of dancers.  Off to one side, he heard Eilian's voice.

"I do not know why you are being so stubborn, Celuwen.  Dol Guldur is empty.  There will never be a better time for us to have a baby."

"I am not sure I trust that news," Celuwen said.  "And anyway, I have told you I do not want to raise a child in the palace."

Annael grimaced.

"I can go to Dol Guldur and look for myself if that will make you happy," Eilian said.  "And we can work out where to live.  I can ask Adar for permission to go to a village."  The two of them drifted away.

Ithilden appeared at Annael's side, his tall, solid form an island of rock in the shifting sea of dancers.  "I find I am in need of some fresh air.  Would you like to go out to the garden with me?"

Annael scanned the elves swirling around the room and glimpsed his daughter's curls laid against Sinnarn's shoulder.  "I believe I would."

Ithilden led him toward the doors, snatching a flagon of wine from a servant along the way.  "Get cups for us, will you?"

Annael caught up two clean cups from a table along the wall and followed his commander out into the night.  They descended the steps and went through the gate into the palace garden.  Ithilden sauntered toward a bench in a rose arbor.  The two of them sat, and Annael held out the cups.  Ithilden poured, and Annael sipped and then leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs.

Ithilden chuckled.  "How frightening it is to watch one's child make an irrevocable decision."

"Indeed."  Annael took another drink of wine.

"Alfirin tells me I let him become a warrior, so this should be easy."

Annael rolled the cup of wine between his palms, remembering the day he had led Sinnarn's first patrol.

At the end of the line of four warriors, Annael stepped off the path to make room for the Troop Commander and his aide to ride past, but Ithilden brought his horse to a halt a yard or two on and beckoned.  Annael waved his patrol forward.  He would catch up in a moment or two, as soon as he found out what Ithilden wanted.  Sinnarn frowned slightly, then obeyed Nithron's light touch on his arm and strode away.

"I had a report that orcs were sighted west of here."  Ithilden's face was stony and unreadable.  "Will you be checking on that?"

"No, my lord.  Anolith sent six more experienced warriors."

Ithilden's shoulders eased.  He glanced to where Sinnarn had disappeared, and Annael grimaced.  He could not imagine how difficult it would be to send a child into danger.

"My lord," he said softly.

Ithilden brought his gaze back to Annael.

"I do not mean to intrude, but you know Nithron will look after him, and so will I."

Annael took a drink of wine and turned to Ithilden, whose face shone pale in the dark.  Apparently all fathers worried about their children.  "Are you comparing marrying my daughter to battling with orcs?"

Ithilden laughed.  "My apologies.  Sinnarn is as lucky that Emmelin chose him as I am that Alfirin chose me."  He hesitated.  "Sinnarn will look after her, Annael, and so will Alfirin and I."

Annael mustered a smile.  "She is quite good at looking after herself these days, or so my wife tells me.  But thank you,…Ithilden."

He leaned back and took another sip of the excellent wine.  Ithilden mirrored his relaxed posture, and together, they studied the stars.  Annael could not read the future in them and doubted if Ithilden could either.  All a father could do was trust in the goodness of the Valar and let his child go.