Child of the Stars

“Alright lad, go ahead and show them.” Gilriant glanced over at the blacksmiths who were giving the elf a rather dubious look. He quirked a smile and pulled the staff out of its sheath before carefully removing the upper half of his glaive. As a separate piece it looked mostly like an oddly designed axe. “They are made from dverger silver, which only my Atar knows how to smelt and craft with currently. It’s nearly unbreakable, and what doesn’t break it, only makes it stronger. It never needs sharpening, and is an excellent conductor of magic.” There was a loud scoff at that. “I hardly think any metal could do that, let alone one that an elf made.”

Ignoring the comment for now Gilriant continued. “As my father’s main profession is not smithing, my cousin is the one that designed it. With the help of his dwarf friend and another one of my cousins. He generally doesn’t do weapons, but found it a creative challenge.” He picked up the two separate pieces. “Atar wanted me to have both a close range and melee weapon with a longer reach once he realized I preferred my one Grandfather’s weapon. Between the rune smithing knowledge I could share, that Atar knew, and my cousins and friend’s design they were able to do this.” Fitting the two pieces together he twisted and they locked together, looking like it was cast as one. “The pieces were made separately, it's the rune work that helps with locking everything into place as one piece.”

Stepping back he inclined his head and indicated with his hands for the smiths to come forward and inspect it. He looked over at Falin. “So, at what point do you think they will start trying to prove me wrong?” The dwarf chuckled. “Depends on what they find. You never did tell me who your cousins and the dwarf was that designed it.” Gilriant tilted his head thoughtfully. “I did tell you about my dream-walking and helping my relatives heal in Mandos’ halls correct?” Falin frowned, “Aye, what does that have to do with - “ He was interrupted by a bellow of rage.

“ELF what is the meaning of this! Your weapon bears the mark of Narvi!” Gilriant inclined his head even as some of his guards at his back tensed at the hostility emanating from the blacksmith. “Yes, my cousin’s friend.” Sarcasm dripped from the dwarf’s voice. “Oh I suppose that explains the mark that matches Celebrimbors on this as well.” The young elf smiled brightly. “Ah you know my cousin’s work, excellent. Grandfather likely would have demanded to be able to help but Namo won’t allow him access to forge right now. Apparently he thinks he’ll cause too much chaos.”

“Bah what else should we expect from an elf but disrespect and a pack of lies. One easy way to prove him wrong.” Another one of the smiths grabbed a forge hammer and lifted it up to smash down on the staff before Gilriant could warn him. Instantly Gonben pulled the young elf behind him as Ferdil covered Falin. The hammer met the staff and a shockwave of energy spilled out as the hammer cracked and shards went flying. Giving the guard a quick nod of thanks, Gilriant stepped forward again. “I could have told you that was a terrible idea. I am not responsible for the damage done to the hammer.” He took another look. “Or the dent in the workbench.” Falin blinked at the scene and then looked at the elf.

“I do believe I should ask who your grandfather is.” The young elf looked at him in surprise. “You have met my father, know his name, correct?” The dwarf’s expression contracted in confusion. “Yes, Maglor.” He paused then continued, his face paling. “Who is a bard. Are you telling me your father is one of the sons of Feanor?” Gilriant smiled brightly even as the other dwarves looked at them dumbfounded. “Yes! Granted he learned most of his technique currently with the dverger, that’s what he taught, well you know who.” Considering how shell shocked the blacksmiths were at the moment, adding in one more bit of information might overload them. He would just save that for another time.

“But they’re all dead!” One of the blacksmiths almost wailed in confusion. “Ah right, I suppose I should explain I’m only mostly elf? Long story short, I can visit my relatives and friends in dreams and help them. Celebrimbor wasn’t doing well so I asked Mahal if Narvi’s spirit would be allowed to visit him to help him.” He was met with a bunch of shocked stares. Gilriant could feel Haldir keeping a lid on his urge to laugh. Turning to Falin he gave his brother an apologetic look. “I think I broke them.”

*

“I think that visit went well.” They were riding away from Erebor, headed to the new settlement of men nearby. It made it easy to slip back into Sindarin, when there were no prickly dwarves nearby that might accuse them of offering insults. Haldir cracked a smile next to him even as Maethel gave a long-suffering sigh. “Lets see, you figured out how to physically change genders, upset the head of the temple of Mahal, got adopted by your dwarf friends and completely traumatized some of their blacksmiths. Yes, it was a very productive visit for you my prince.” There was a snicker from one of the other guards at that. “You forgot the part where he also has at least half the mountain convinced he’s some sort of strange creature other than an elf,” Erecthel helpfully chimed in. “It’s not like I planned any of that,” Gilriant protested. “It just happened. At least they were willing to give me some supplies.”

“I presume you traded for the metal ingots for your blacksmithing. Dare I ask what you wanted mica and bauxite for?” Ferdil’s tone said she probably knew the answer. “Pranks. As long as you don’t tell anyone I have it I’m more than happy to make sure none of you are targeted with it.” Gilriant figured that was a fair enough trade. He generally limited the pranks on his personal guard to when they annoyed him with something. Otherwise it was best to not target the people that would help keep his secrets.

“Well,” Amathleg said thoughtfully, “Prince Legolas did say we would rarely be bored when we first volunteered. I do believe he understated that a little.” There was another round of laughter among the guards even as Gilirant did not pout at them. That absolutely was not what he was doing. Inwardly he was pleased to see them relaxing. While they were still alert of course, they lost some of the tension from being in the mountain among the dwarves.

That didn’t stop the young elf from slipping into more serious thoughts. Reviewing his actions in the context of his responsibilities and goals. He wanted to strengthen ties with the other races. Being adopted by a dwarf would definitely say stronger ties. Getting into conflict with the head of the temple of Mahal not so much. Yet overall Gilriant came out ahead by befriending the dwarf in charge of Ravenhill and managing to more or less end the visit with the blacksmiths on a positive note. Still the way things were left with Avila discomforted him.

He had not actually meant to step on her toes. Perhaps this was another lesson that he needed to be more careful in his approach? However the fact was she wouldn’t have given him permission to check and now he knew there was something wrong there. While Gilriant wasn’t arrogant enough to think he was entitled to always be able to check things out, he wondered where that line should be. Would it be prudent to check if someone else was aware and keeping their eyes out? He had mentioned it to Falin and the dwarf hadn’t protested. Gilriant had stopped as soon as he realized there was someone there that could sense him.

The heart of the issue was determining when it was okay for him to intervene. Obviously if he was asked to by someone that had the authority to do so was okay. However he also needed to be more careful about defining who had that authority and perhaps limit the scope. Unfortunately there were corrupt leaders, so when one of their people were to ask, or a neighbor that was being encroached upon. Too many variables, so it might be on a case by case basis. Or maybe he consult with others about it. Grandfather might have some insight, or Elrond, or Namo.

Gilriant was drawn out of his thoughts when he realized the formation of the group had shifted around him. Maethel in general tended to be in the lead when they traveled. The exception was when the young elf was moving forward to greet someone. The rest tended to fan out or distribute around based on the width of the road or the level of danger. While Maethel was indeed still in the lead, Gilirant was flanked closely by Amathleg and Ferdil. Haldir was directly behind him and flanked by Erecthel and Roitaro while Gonben covered the rear of the group. Which translated into highly protective white they ventured into unknown territory. They had reached the settlement of men.

While he, and likely his guards, were not expecting to be attacked, it was clear they were being protective of him. How they were dressed alone indicated that he and Haldir were the highest ranked in the group. The positions they held with the guard around them likely reinforced that. Gilriants exposure to men of this world had been limited to the Dunedain. He no more expected all men to behave the same then he expected all elves to behave the same. While he had been a human wizard in the world of his birth, this world’s human culture was different. Its histories and traditions were shaped by different events. So it made it understandable to him they may be more cautious here, where they did not actually have any contacts, nor had they been invited.

They did actually have a loose plan for this foray. Maethel and Haldir insisted on asking him what his goal was. Thankfully Falin was able to discover there was a daily market, so that would be where they would head towards. For some reason after trading for the metal ingots in Erebor, Haldir insisted on doing any bargaining if Gilriant found something he liked here. This plan would give them some information on the layout, and what goods may be currently offered. If they were intercepted by whatever passed for local leadership here, they would make it clear this wasn’t a formal visit.

“Mama, mama, look! Elves!”

It was quickly made obvious they were attracting attention, lots of it. Most of the comments were complimentary, so this bunch at least had a level of respect for the elderkin. Some of the remarks were aimed at their clothes, horses, and armament. Gilriant had long gotten used to being the focus of a great deal of attention. This at least seemed to be mostly evenly spread across the whole group.

The main thoroughfare was already made of stone, and wide enough for their group to pass unencumbered by the populace. Stone buildings were being built in place of some basic structures. Whomever was directing things clearly was planning for a long term settlement. With a blink Gilriant could see the ghostly images of a full grown city spread out and built up. He blinked again to clear his vision and made a mental note to be careful about how hard he concentrated on the future of something. That might have been the edge of his sight, or just his active imagination, difficult to tell. Still he really should be careful. At least the horses were well trained and his momentary inattention didn’t cause a pause in their travel. Though he did get a nudge of concern from Haldir to which he sent back reassurance.

They reached the market ‘square’ with relative ease. Thankfully there was a stable for temporary keeping of horses nearby. You could pay to have them stabled and watched, or to just leave them there. Maethel must have planned for this for as they dismounted and settled the horses, Roitaro remained behind with the horses. Being elven steeds they were more likely to be targeted than most horses, or have someone want to inspect them.

As they started to move through the marketplace they continued to talk in rapid Sindarin with each other. Saving common speech for when they spoke to the edain exclusively. Gilriant wasn’t entirely sure why, but chose to follow the lead of the others with this. For some reason he was feeling decidedly off kilter. He couldn’t exactly put a finger on why, which made it difficult for him to decide where to go first.

Haldir glanced at him, and then started up a conversation with Gonben about what the Greenwood might be interested in trade goods. He was the one to move forward the rest of the group shifting with him. The paused by a few produce stands, a leather stand, someone selling wool, yarn and thread. When Gilriant spotted one merchant playing an odd looking flute, he instantly moved towards it, pulling the rest of the group with him. They likely expected the move as he saw a few slight smiles on their faces. The merchant apparently did not.

“Hello, is that a kind of flute?” The man startled, almost dropping the hand sized round vessel. He gave a wide-eyed look to the group of elves. “Yes m’lord. Just a simple thing really. I’m sure you have fancier ones.” At that Gilriant raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps, but that is not what I asked. Any musician will tell you it is the quality, not how fancy it is, that matters. Most would also enjoy trying something new. I have not seen these before.” Lowering his eyebrow again the young elf offered a slight smile. “May I try one?”

The merchant seemed flabbergasted. “You, want to try one of my potato flutes.” Gilriant inclined his head. “Yes, please.” The man blinked a few more times before moving with a quick jerk. “Right, right, of course.” He looked around at his display and shifted towards some of the larger ones. “Here, this is one of the larger ones, but it's easier for, um, adults to play.” Picking up one of the ceramic instruments he offered it up. “This one has twelve holes though I do have a few with ten. The small ones have four or six.”

Taking the offered flute, Gilriant carefully examined it. Fired clay that was glazed, he could see why it was called a potato flute due to the shape. This one was a deep red color. “May I try it?” The man nodded, starting to relax. “Of course. How are you supposed to know if you like it if you don't?” He offered the merchant a smile before bringing it to his lips to gently blow. Easy enough to get a clear musical tone from it. A little bit of experiment placing his fingertips over the holes showed it worked like other flutes. The tone was different and the shape and size. Simple enough to learn but the sound was sweet enough to want to experiment some with what kind of music suited it. “Yes, definitely.”

Glancing to the side showed Haldir was already there and while most would see the polite mask, Gilriant could also feel and see the amusement. “I take it you want to buy one.” The young elf shook his head slightly. “Two, of each type. I’m going to pick them out.” Laying the first one in front of the marchwarden and letting him engage the slightly shocked merchant he moved around the table. Picking another of the twelve holes, two of the ten that appealed to him. There were smaller ones on a simple cord with four or six holes as the merchant said before. He picked out pairs of these as well.

Staring at his small collection he frowned debating how he was going to carry them. Until Amathleg offered him a basket with wool in it. Which likely came from other merchants there, including one of their earlier pauses. Apparently he was at least a little predictable once the flutes were spotted. The basket was incidental but the wool could be given to those in charge of such things to see if it was sufficient quality to trade for. With a nod of thanks he started to carefully tuck the flutes in the wool making sure they weren’t packed too closely together. He looked up when Haldir was handing over the coin and gave the merchant a bright smile. “Thank you!”

“You are welcome?” The poor man seemed happy to have the coin but still bemused about the fact an elf was interested in his wares. Or maybe it was that he smiled. Difficult to say. “What I mean is thank you m’lord.” He gave a little bob of a bow.

Turning to scan the other stalls, Gilriant caught the raised voices and turned to see Maethel blocking the path of some men. She was calmly and clearly relaying what they had decided. That they were just there for a quick visit of the market. That if they wanted they would take any missives back with them if they were ready before they left for the day. Erecthel had flanked her, and the other three kept at points around the young elf and Haldir. The apparently leader of the little group of men was getting red in the face. “Now listen here, I did not come out to listen to some she-elf soldier. I came to talk to your betters and you had best let me pass!”

Well now that was just plain rude, and reminded him of stuck up men too used to throwing their weight around and getting their way. Gilirant wouldn’t reward that behavior or even bother addressing the man directly. Instead he called out to Maethel in Sindarin. “Please let the man know we have no interest in meeting with someone that can be so disrespectful to the Captain of my personal guard. If he persists in such behavior I’ll be sure to pass along the word to others about lack of manners and the disgraceful way visitors are treated.”

Message delivered he purposefully turned his back on them and strode away. He was pretty sure Maethel would enjoy putting that man in his place. Gilriant could hear those accompanying the man encouraging him to let it go and move away. Now he needed to find a reason he was walking in this direction. The young elf looked around and almost directly in his path was a stall with someone selling flowers and other plants. Well that was definitely something he was interested in.

Reaching the stall he carefully inspected the potted plants, looking for varieties he wasn’t familiar with. Mostly focused on the herbs, but the others were interesting too. This merchant was a woman, and while her eyes widened at his approach, she also seemed calmer than the last one. Gilriant reached out, but before he touched one of the herbs he paused. “May I?” “Of course My Lord.” The woman smiled and nodded.

“Thank you,” he offered a small smile back before carefully examining the plants. Even without dipping into any special gifts it was easy to see the plants were healthy. “These are very well cared for.” The woman looked pleased. “Thank you my Lord, that is kind of you to say.” Most of the herbs were ones Gilriant was very familiar with. But he did find one of a new variety of one that was useful for healing potions. It would be interesting to see if he could infuse them with energy to be a magical variety. Live plants were less easy to carry back, but he would find a way to manage.

“These please, and if you have any suggestions to help me carry them back it would be helpful. I have this basket but I don’t want to get dirt accidentally dumped on the wool.” He set the basket on the counter and between the two of them and some extra rags got the plants mostly secured. Haldir of course took care of the payment. Gilriant noticed his gaze flick over to the side and he followed the look to see a young girl wearing a flower crown and trying to get her slightly older brother to wear one. The boy wanted nothing to do with it, much to the little one’s disappointment.

“I would wear it, but I think it might be a little small for me. I don’t suppose if I bought some flowers you would be willing to make one for me?” The little one looked up and gasped, her eyes going round. “You’re pretty!” Gilriant smiled at that. “Well thank you, you are pretty too. So what do you say, willing to make me one?” The girl looked up at the merchant, “Mama, can I?” “I don’t know, can you?” The girl huffed and tried again. “May I, please?” The woman looked over to the young elf. “You really don’t need to.” “I know I don’t, I still want one.” Looking between the elf and the child. “Who am I to say no.”

With a bright smile Gilriant looked back at the young girl. “Go pick out the best flowers for it. My friend will pay. Apparently I’m not allowed to bargain. Being the youngest is the worst isn’t it?” Her eyes got big again. “Yes! Nobody lets me do anything.” The young elf nodded in solidarity. “I know exactly how you feel. Now go pick out the flowers, I want to see what you can do for me.” With a happy sound she proceeded to do just that. He set the basket down on the ground while he waited.

“That was kindly done.” Gilriant turned towards the voice to see another man that had stopped a respectful distance away. Close enough to have observed, but not too close to encroach upon their space. “A simple enough thing to do.” Maethel tensed next to him, ready to intervene. The subtle movement wasn’t unnoticed by the man. “Forgive me, I did not wish to intrude. I wanted to apologize for Counselor Darrel’s poor manners earlier. He sometimes forgets that not everyone has the same enthusiasm he does.”

Facing the man more fully now, Gilriant looked him over. Dark hair, dark beard, not a youth but not yet middle aged. Clothing of good sturdy quality though not overly fine. “Enthusiasm, an interesting way of putting it.” While he could tell Haldir was also ready to step in if needed, for now they were letting him take the lead. Despite his youth, he was the highest rank of the group. The marchwarden also tended to allow him chances to learn.

“Yes, well, we are hoping to have a healthy trading center here.” Gilriant gave a nod of understanding, “And this is the first time any elves have come through?” “They are not common in these parts,” the man allowed. “While I can understand wanting to create opportunities, there was no reason to treat my friend so poorly. Especially when she was just performing her duty.” The man inclined his head. “I agree, which is why I came to extend an apology. I just hope you have not been discouraged from coming back.”

“Well as unusual as it is for an elf, I do have friends in Erebor. I will undoubtedly be visiting them. Provided the rest of our visit is pleasant I see no reason I would not come back. Or recommending against visiting this place to others.” “I got the flowers, are these good?” The little girl came back with her choice and Gilriant smiled down at her. “Perfect, I look forward to your creation.” Spotting the man, the little girl smiled over at him. “Ellis, look! The pretty elf wants me to make a flower crown for him.”

The apparently named Ellis smiled at her. “But of course, you have quite the talent I can see.” With a grin the young girl got to work. At least this man seemed kind. He didn’t brush the child off, and was being polite. “Ellis is it?” With the man’s cautious nodd, Gilriant continued. “Well then I suppose I know who to ask for if needed.” “Of course, I am happy to assist. May I have your name?”

“The dwarves mostly know me by my nickname Crabandil. Though among the elves, Gilriant.” Next to him Maethel cleared her throat and he glanced over to her. She advised him in Sindarin, “While I do not think it's a good idea to broadcast your rank here, if he leaves off the title and sends a missive to the Greenwood, the King would take offence.” Two excellent points but how to solve that. “Ah, the ravens the dwarves use to send messages, they know me as Crabandil as well, and can always find me. That is probably best.” He could always send Ellis a message and include the title if he needed. The man gave him a slightly puzzled look and nodded. “I will keep that in mind.”

The little girl had practically bounced her way back over, holding the flower circlet. “All done!” She held it up and he crouched down so she could put it on his head herself. While obviously not made by an expert, it was a pretty enough piece. “Thank you.” He looked over to Haldir, who smiled and passed him a silver coin to give to the child. “For your hard work.” “Thank you!” She immediately rushed over to show it to her mother. Standing up with a smile Gilriant reached to pick up the basket. Only to frown when it shifted oddly in his hand. He looked into the basket.

“I don’t remember buying a kitten.”