Ball masque

Chapter three The ball starts

Elrond groaned as he stood before the door leading to the hall. Why had he agreed to this? He had asked himself that question time and time again for the last month and now, nearing the hour of dread, he was no closer to an answer.

He half turned and looked at his reflection. He grimaced. His robes were ugly, just plain ugly. He didn’t think to make new robes so he had to wear something he already had, but the twins’ order to wear only something that wasn’t worn before had made it hard. Too bad he wasn’t a guest for then they couldn’t tell, but they knew every one of his outfits, so wearing one he wore only a year ago was out. He often cursed their memories, but today even more so.

The only thing he hadn’t worn were his black robes, stacked somewhere in the back. His pants, tunic and robe where all black. And even though all three were embroidered it didn’t show. At least he didn’t see the patterns on his pants and tunic. His mood was only saved because his outer robe has silver and golden stitches on it. The ones on his trousers were supposed to be silver as well and those on his tunic golden, but he didn’t see it. /Must have worn of in the wardrobe./ A delicate belt completed the attire. It was not really a belt but more a beautiful white rope, which really was a denigrating word for it, the end swinging down the front. It had been the reason he had bought it so many centuries ago.

Elrond had been surprised he still had been able to get into it but he thanked the Valar for it. He looked at his shining boots and knew he wouldn’t do much dancingightight. He hardly wore boots and already was aware of the fact tomorrow would be awkward walking for him even if he sat the whole night.

He smiled, knowing himself unrecognisable behind his mask, for which he felt grateful. It was gold, accentuated with silver and the lips on it were black. It was the only thing he liked about his outfit. That and his hair, which he had braided according to the Mirkwood style. He could not possibly use his own style for that was almost patented.

Pulling his robe straight he walked in and stared at a sea of masks. /Wow, this does look rather nice./ He found himself wondering what face was behind each mask.

He quickly walked to a chair at the side. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. His eyes raised when he noticed one elf staring at him and smiled at himself, wondering who it was. He signalled the other over. /This might be fun./ Before either he or the other could speak Glorfindel demanded their attention.

The whole hall fell silent and Glorfindel smiled. “Mára ‘ndúnë ilquan. Vandëtul i-minya merendesse collava. As I am supposed to be leading tonight in the right course I am the only one permitted to go around without one.” Everybody laughed at his relieved smile, including Glorfindel himself.
He grinned when he continued. “As you might already know Elladan and Elrohir are responsible for tonight, but they did not want to stand out either, so asked me to take on the host’s responsibility as well. Normally the only words I would be uttering now would be to wish you a fun night and ask you not to overdo things where food and beverages are concerned. However, considering this is a masked ball, there is something I must say before I can allow you to enjoy yourselves.”
He retrieved a piece of paper and smiled. “Elladan and Elrohir felt that since everybody is masked, people might be a little shy to mingle, not knowing who they are tng tng to. My suggestion would have been to ditch the masks, but they came up with a better idea. They’ve brought in a small competition. It is simple: the one who can figure out who the father of tonight’s beneficiaries are wins a price. In laymen’s terms: Whoever can pick out Lord Elrond wins. And the price is to be picked by the winner, the only given is that it should be something from Imladris. I suppose to make this as honest as possible everybody who thinks he or she has spotted Lord Elrond informs me. I shall write it down and I shall declare the winner for I am the only one who knows what Elrond looks like.”

Elrond himself was flabbergasted at the words. “Pick Elrond and win?”
The elf next to him nodded. “Aye, I must say the twins are rather desperate. They are hoping a certain someone wins.”
Elrond narrowed his eyes. “Erestor?”
The elf next to him grinned. “No use for me to be in disguise; my voice gives me away. Good thing Lindir is among the musicians or he would have been given away too. Excuse me, I have to find Lord Elrond and warn him.”
Elrond could swear he saw a wink behind the mask and chuckled.

The next moment the musicians started their play and Elrond smiled at the words as Lindir’s voice rode the air.

Meren colla
Halda antar tarnavántëar
Meren colla
Lomat antarinya ar i-Ambar ú sintuva ten
Meren colla
Man ná man, mellon epë ú
Man anta ná ilsímen adel i-vacco

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he grinned, staring at two identical costumes. He nodded his head in greeting.
Elladan grinned too. “Mae govannen, meldir. Are you going to try and find our father?”
Legolas shook his head. “I came to enjoy the feast.” He made sure to twist his voice to throw the twins off and he was glad it worked. Besides, he need not search for Elrond. He knew who he was and walked towards him, drawing in his breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elrond smiled when saw an elf approach him, but his smile widened when said elf was held standing by another, only to be dragged off to the dance floor. For the next two hours Elrond had lots of fun watching the elf be dragged into one dance after another. He knew why too. The burgundy robe would have been his choice too, but no, he wore dull black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas had a hard time trying to get to Elrond. Every elf in the room wanted to dance with him. He growled in frustration. When another came up and tried to escape by grabbing a drink but the elf was persistent. “Allow me this next dance, my lord.”
Legolas growled. “If anybody call me that again I shall scream.”
“State your name and I shall happily oblige, My Lord. I must say your sons have outdone expectation.”
Legolas narrowed his eyes as he recognized Haldir’s voice. “Watch your tongue, March Warden, or I’ll have you thrown out.”

Haldir bowed and left, grinning. All others had, after dancing with Legolas, decided they had made a mistake but Haldir was sure. He looked around and spotted Glorfindel, standing near a particularly dull elf. He quickly marched over, instantly followed by Legolas, though for different reasons.

Haldir bowed before the two elves. Glorfindel and the other nodded. “My lord Glorfindel, may I have a moment of your time. I have discovered Lord Elrond’s identity and wish to claim my price.”
Legolas took one step forward. This was too good an opportunity to pass up. Still with twisted voice he asked his seemingly innocent question. “And what, March Warden, would that price be?”
Haldir smirked and turned to Legolas. “Why, you, of course, my lord.”

To this Elrond gasped his surprise at the total show of disrespect. /Legolas, of course. That imp./ Glorfindel burst out laughing, both by Haldir’s words and the agitation he sensed from Elrond.

But Legolas was angered and before he was even aware of what he did his fist hit Haldir in the nose, breaking the mask. Elrond jumped up and gasped again, finding his suspicions incorrect. /Haldir?/
Legolas towered over Haldir. “You are too presumptuous, March Warden, to believe you can have anything you set your eye on. Step foot before me again and I shall use you as target practise.”

Haldir scrambled up. “My lord?”
Glorfindel grabbed him from behind. “I’d hold your tongue if I were you. And if you are as smart as they say you are you will not anger this one further and apologize.” He sniffed and raised his voice. “I do believe this one has a bit too much to drink. Go to bed, Haldir o ‘Lóriën and rest.”
Haldir glared at Glorfindel. “And my price?”
Glorfindel frowned. “The one who picks out Lord Elrond wins. You have not picked him.” He turned and walked away.

Legolas still seethed with rage and one wrong word or movement from Haldir would have snapped him but two regal elves walked up to them. He smiled as he instantly recognized Celeborn and Galadriel, who, even in disguise, walked together. When they stood behind the party of three Celeborn hissed in Haldir’s ear. “You disgrace us, Haldir. Do as Glorfindel says and retire.”
Haldir turned and stared at the cold eyes of his lord. He bowed and left.

Celeborn placed his hand on Legolas’ shoulder. “Calm down. Haldir will not change overnight.” He turned and took along his wife, smiling. He had sensed a desire within Elrond and they would do best to let things go.

Elrond stood and bit his lip. For the first time in his life he was lost for words.

Legolas groaned as another elf came up to him. “Excuse me but…”
Legolas turned to the she-elf and shook his head. “No, I do not wish to dance and no, I am not Lord Elrond.”
The she-elf backed away and Elrond laughed warmly. “That was Arwen Undomiél Telcontar.”
Legolas’ eyes widened. “Aiya. Did I goof. Surely -she- wouldn’t have mistaken me for her father.” His eyes widened as her position registered. “She’s pregnant. I have to go congratulate her.”
He walked away but felt a restraining hand on his arm. He turned around. “Don’t. Arwen gets moody in the evenings and this doesn’t help much. Talk to her tomorrow. They won’t leave for another week.” /I hope./

Elrond smiled and pointed his hand to the garden. “Care for a walk? Is to be preferred to the dance floor after so much dancing.”
Legolas nodded and accepted Elrond’s arm. “Thank you.”
Elrond smiled. “That was some punch.”
Legolas blushed. “I acted on impulse. It was unbecoming.”
Elrond smiled but shook his head. “Nay, Haldir is unbecoming. Your words were truly spoken. Rank, age, gender or race mean nothing to him. He wants what he desires and doesn’t stop until he’s had it.”
Legolas let out a small sob at the words but forced himself to stay cheerful.

“These gardens are beautiful.”
Elrond smiled. “I agree.” He had planned on revealing himself but he changed his mind. The knowledge of his companion’s name might change this one’s behaviour and Elrond preferred it the way it was. “I saw you were on your way to me when you were first swept of your feet.”
Legolas laughed warmly. “I wouldn’t exactly call it that. Dragged was more like it.”

Elrond laughed too. “Forgive me my badly formulated words. But you were asking for it wearing that robe. It’s the colour Imladris’ lord would wear.”
Legolas smiled. “I know. And believe me, I would not have worn it had I know there was to be such a stupid contest. Just wait until I get my hands on Elladan and Elrohir.”
Elrond laughed warmly. “I suggest you wait until Arwen is in delivery or she would hunt you instead.”
Legolas laughed. “Aye, she is not quite a lady.” He sobered. “And yet, she’s more a lady than any I’ve seen.”

Elrond smiled at the compliment but held his tongue. He was beginning to like this one a lot. The more he thought about it the more he wanted to rip the clothes of their bodies and make out at the spot. But he contained himself. He should at least find out if this desire was returned.

He gestured to a seat. “Do you mind a rest. I am wearing boots for the first time in centuries and I fear my feet protest.”
Legolas inclined his head and sat down. “My feet are not used to so much abuse on the dance floor.”
Elrond frowned. “You don’t like dancing?”
Legolas grinned. “I do, but it depends who my partner is. Most of those elves didn’t know their right foot from their left and couldn’t stay in tune. And I couldn’t say a thing because they were too busy figuring out whether or not I was Lord Elrond. Annoying.”
Elrond laughed. “Again: you brought it on yourself. Maybe if you remove your robe. Or aren’t you wearing a tunic underneath?”
Legolas stood and grinned. “Why didn’t I think of that? Thanks.” He quickly got out his robe and folded it before he placed it between them.

Elrond’s hand moved to touch it and only now did he notice the patterns on the robe were different from the once on the tunic. And the patterns on the leggings were different from both. “I see you wanted to really take away any hints. Each realm is represented on your body.”
Legolas grinned. “I couldn’t make up my mind and this was the result.”
Elrond grinned. “It’s beautiful, especially together.” /I can’t wait to see you naked./ He was grateful for the mask for it covered up his desire.

Legolas reached out his hand and touched Elrond’s chest. “Yours is beautiful as well. Delicate and powerful at the same time.”
Elrond laughed. “I didn’t know you possessed humour.”
Legolas shook his head. “I’m not joking. Your outfit is black all over, stating hardness: power. The gold on your robe state the same. It comes to your eye whether you want it to or not. But the embroidering on the tunic and your leggings are of a softer shade, though still golden, making the ensemble more delicate. And the silver in between make it even more gentle.”

Elrond frowned as he thought on the words. He had never thought about it like that but it definitely made sense. “Sounds a lot better than dull.”
Legolas laughed. “I doubt you could ever be dull.” Elrond raised his eyebrows at the statement but didn’t ask for clarification. If Legolas had noticed his slip up he didn’t show.

Elrond stood. “And what, o poet, are your thoughts on this belt?”
Legolas grinned. “I am no poet, but I find the belt disturbing. It should be golden or black, but not white. It’s off and it annoys me.”
Elrond smiled and looked at the object. “Yet it is why I bought it. I like it as it swings. Like a clock.”
Legolas grinned. “So have another made. In black, with golden embroidering.”
Elrond laughed. “Maybe I shall. Do you wish to continue our walk?”
Legolas stood. “I shall follow your lead tonight. But I do want to know if anybody managed to pick Lord Elrond.”
Elrond grinned. “Me too. We shall be back in time.”

Legolas enjoyed the time he spend with Elrond, especially because the Peredhel amicamicably toward him, which was a pleasant difference to the normal way. They talked about many subjects, arguing here and there, but never in anger.

End chapter 03
TBC

Translations:
Mára ‘ndúnë ilquan. Vandëtul i-minya merendesse collava. Means A good evening to you all. Welcome to the first masked ball
Mae Govannen is Sindarin and means well met.

Meren colla
Halda antar tarnavántëar
Meren colla
Lomat antarinya ar i-Ambar ú sintuva ten
Meren colla
Man ná man, mellon epë ú
Man anta ná ilsímen adel i-vacco

Ball masque
Hidden faces on parade
Ball masque
Hide your face and the world will not know you
Ball masque
Who is who, friend or no
Which face is there behind that mask