The Book of Short Tales by Lyra

B2MeM '19 - I20 - When in Doriath

On her first evening in Doriath, Galadriel is desperate for a drink.

Written for B2MeM 2019, for the prompts "Overcoming my past" (Person vs. Self) and "Who now shall refill the cup for me?" (Tolkien Quotes), both I20. A slightly irreverent take on the prompts. I apologise.

It was not customary in Doriath to wait for someone else to fill one's cup. Decanters were placed on the table at convenient intervals, and you were expected to help yourself when you were thirsty. But Artanis did not know that.

In retrospect, she had to laugh. Having observed that, once the meat was cut, you took your own piece from the platter, she could have guessed that the people of Doriath had similar customs concerning their drinks. But she didn't; and after the hotly spiced first course and the salty goat's cheese for the second, she was desperate for some refreshment. There were no servants standing behind the table, and after fruitlessly trying to figure out how she could summon one without causing a fuss, she decided that she would have to ask her seat neighbour for help. The lady on her left was engaged in conversation, so addressing her would have felt impolite. The gentleman to the right, however - King Singollo's grand-nephew, if Artanis remembered her introductions correctly - wasn't currently occupied, so it was to him that Artanis turned. "Excuse me, sir - this is probably a foolish question, but whom do I have to call if I would like to have more wine?"
His eyes widened in surprise, briefly, before their corners creased in a concerned smile. "Oh! Are your hands hurt -- do you need assistance? It is not foolish at all, you should have said so much sooner. Here, let me help you!" He reached out - halfway across her plate, which would have gotten him a very disapproving look from the Lady of the House in Tirion - but this was not Tirion, and for a moment, Artanis felt the bite of homesickness. Stronger than that, however, was the taste of embarrassment, because he was reaching across her plate to take a decanter that had been standing there, within her easy reach. He poured the wine for her, and she felt the blossoming of a blush that she'd thought she had outgrown decades ago.

Briefly, she considered going with his suggestion and pretending to have injured her hands, to spare herself from the embarassment, but then she thought better of it. Hadn't she resolved to start over in these new lands, among these related yet unfamiliar people? There was already enough she had to hide, enough she had to remember not to speak about, and it felt unwise to add another deceit - even if it was only a minor one this time. It simply wasn't worth it.
So she thanked him, and added, "But I must confess that I'm not hurt at all; rather, I am unfamiliar with the customs of your land. From home, I am accustomed to have my cup filled by others; it would be considered improper if I did it myself. I erred, assuming that it would be the same here. I apologise for troubling you."
His smile intensified - not in a mocking way, but in honest cheer. "It was no trouble at all. Feel free to ask me anytime you have a question! I never thought that our brethren across the sea might have different customs from ours, but it has been a long time, and I expect the Belain have different habits altogether. So if you find anything confusing, you are welcome to ask me - that is, if you do not prefer some other guide..." Now it was his face that took on the reddish hue of embarrassment, as if he felt that he had taken a step too far. He had very interesting eyes, Artanis thought: not lit with the brilliance of the Trees, but bright nonetheless, less like the silver gleam of Telperion and more like clouds mirrored on a pool.
"I know no other guide yet," she replied, smiling back at him, "and I hope you will not regret your generous offer, because I suspect that I will make use of it."
"Please do!" he said. "I'm at your service."
He held his hand out to her, and she gripped it in a conspiratorial handshake. She quite liked him, she decided. Maybe her foolish question hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

Chapter End Notes

- - - Note on names: I used Quenya names, since this story is observing Galadriel's thoughts and she probably wouldn't think in Sindarin yet. Artanis - Galadriel's father-name, "noble lady" Singollo - Thingol's name in (standard) Quenya Celeborn, meanwhile, speaks Sindarin: Belain - Valar