Olwë's Home for Wayward Elves by Morcondil

Interlogue

INTERLOGUE.

The household servants released a collective sigh of relief: the lady Artanis had left Tirion. Lord Arafinwë had made the right choice, they all agreed—such a wise and discerning master, he was. How good it was to serve him.

“King Olwë will know how to how to handle her,” said Ténon the majordomo, as he sat in the servants’ hall later that evening. “She just needs time and a firm hand on the reins.”

The rest of the staff nodded in agreement. Perhaps Arafinwë and Eärwen were too lenient with their only daughter. As far as flaws went, it was not fatal. And (eventually), the lady Artanis would be reformed.

Until then: peace, for a time.

The servants held their heads high once again as they went about their daily tasks. No longer did Cook worry that the butchers in the marketplace would ask him about the lady Artanis’ public drunkenness. No longer did Lady Eärwen’s dresser wring her hands in frustration as Artanis traipsed about in raggedy trousers. No longer were the sentries woken in the middle of the night as Artanis rushed past the gate to make merry in the Lower Circles. And no longer did the groom fear his assistants would be fraternized with.

They were servants of the high lord Arafinwë, scion of the king, and among the serving class they were afforded much respect. It was good to serve the family of the king; it was honorable to toil for so glorious a master. The maids sang while they scrubbed the marble floors.

Gossip came their way, but Arafinwë’s servants paid no mind to it.

For seven nights and seven days, the scandalmongers in Tirion ran wild. Lady Artanis did not accompany her family to Fëanáro’s begetting day feast. She did not ride out with her brothers in the mornings, nor did she run lightly down the halls of the Royal Academy on her way to lessons. She was not seen in the Great Square or in the king’s libraries. Finwë’s lords and ladies dispatched their servants to collect news about Arafinwë’s reckless daughter, but there was none. Disappointed, the city turned to other things—did it not seem that the lady Anairë might be expecting a fourth child? And was not the poet Elemmírë’s new collection somewhat vulgar?

Tirion’s attention drifted, and within a week Artanis was forgotten.

Within the shaded breezeways and tranquil gardens of Arafinwë’s house, the servants smiled at one another. Peace, peace at last!

And if Lord Arafinwë seemed more distracted, and if Lady Eärwen now smiled but seldom, and if they both often sighed wistfully toward the east… Well, surely that was not the servants’ business.

Chapter End Notes

Name Guide
— Arafinwë = Finarfin
— Artanis/Nerwen = Galadriel