Maedeth found her mouth watering at the taste of well-seasoned meat and a glass of wine. It had been for too long since she'd indulged in such fineries. But the coronation of a King and Queen was the perfect occasion.

The throne room sat fifty comfortably. Great tables were dragged in from war rooms and bedrooms alike, as over the years much of the spare wood had been used to reinforce battlements or burn for fuel. But now was not the time to think of such things. Or so Arvedui insisted.

He sat at the lead table, flanked on his left by Fíriel, his queen. She sat tall and poised, though more solemn than Maedeth would have expected. Usually she was the one the family relied on to keep up appearances, to keep up morale. Beside her sat Arveldir, the younger prince. He was just a boy, really. Not quite ten years of age. He at least seemed to be enjoying himself.

Aranarth, now heir, sat on his father's right hand. Tall and proud, he stayed quiet while eating and listened to his father entreat with nobles who approached their table. Maedeth had always liked him. He was only twenty but in many ways, he reminded her of King Araphor who she saw ascend to the throne at only 18 after Arveleg fell in battle at Amon Sul. They shared a quiet confidence, an intense smoldering determination.

"The king has ordered that we enjoy ourselves for a night, Maedeth." Tiniel's voice pulled her from her musings. She smiled, actively trying to ignore the way her daughter Mírien wouldn't stop kicking the bottom of their bench. "I recognize the look of one lost in memory."

Maedeth forced her own smile. "Indeed." She looked past Tiniel as the effervescent Lady Celebrían had finished speaking with Arvedui and made her way to their table with Elladan.

"Are these places taken?" she asked.

"No, my lady, of course not," Tiniel answered, making space for Celebrían on the end. "I would be honored."

"Elves must stick together, after all," Elladan said.

Maedeth laughed at him, also scooting down to make room. She had missed this: food, friendship, fellowship. Most of the time she and Tiniel stuck together like a pair of swans amidst a raucous storm, the only women of the court to have lived through centuries of love and loss. But when Elladan came, it felt different. It felt...lighter. And Celebrían, well she herself was the daughter of the Lady of Light and carried it with her everywhere she went.

"When are you returning to Rivendell, my lady?" Tiniel asked.

Elladan responded first. "Eager to come home?"

"I am not sure, Tiniel. Probably in the next few days." Celebrían shrugged. "But perhaps not. I feel my presence here may be helpful as Arvedui takes up his father's crown."

Maedeth agreed. "I am sure King Arvedui and Queen Fíriel would be most grateful for your assistance."

"Rivendell can wait. I am not sure that Arthedain can."

They fell into silence again. As Celebrain spoke the words aloud, it seemed a heavy doom settled on the bustling room. Even Mírien turned from people watching to eating her meal.

Various men and women of Arthedain nobility stopped by their table to speak with Celebrían. It had been many years since she had last come as an emissary of Rivendell, and it seemed to lighten the peoples' hearts just being in her presence. Maedeth had to agree, even if the words she spoke in confidence weighed her down.

"So you did not tell me earlier. What is Elrohir up to that has him away from this chilly place," Maedeth asked, lowering her voice so she wouldn't interrupt Celebrían. "Or did you take this assignment as guardian voluntarily?"

"You wound me, Maedeth." But he cracked a smile. "If you must know, I did take this willingly. My father was trying to send Elrohir and I out on a hunting trip with Glorfindel. Something about 'he can only handle us at home so much at a time' and all that. Perhaps Glorfindel was a chaperone?" He grinned as Maedeth laughed. "Anyways, I find my mother much better company than Glorfindel."

"Is that so?" Celebrían asked. She couldn't help but laugh as her son looked up in surprise that she had been listening. "Well, I am glad you prefer me to Glorfindel at least. Though you would do well to listen to him more than you do."

Maedeth laughed at Elladan's feeble attempts to insist he listened quite well enough. Instead, she turned her attention to Tiniel who watched them with a wistful expression. Sometimes, Maedeth forgot that Tiniel, regarded as one of the noblest maidens of Fornost as an elf, was in name no more than a commoner to Celebrían and Elladan.

"Lady Celebrían, while you're here you simply must see Tiniel's weavings. She is teaching Mírien to sew and weave as well, and leads many of Fornost's women in crafting armor and blankets for the soldiers." Maedeth reached her arm across the table, showing the thread patterns sewn on the sleeve. "She made this dress for me. I am hopeless at it but she's a master!"

Tiniel blushed. "Maedeth-"

"This is beautiful craftsmanship, Tiniel!" Celebrían smiled, turning her attention to the young elven woman. "I should love to see more while I am here!"

"My lady, I would be honored. Truly!"

Maedeth smiled. She focused on her own breathing as she listened to gentle laughter around them at various tables and their own. Five hundred years of constant warfare had drained them all, herself no less than others. She wished she could stay forever in these moments. Even if they were in overly large, cold stone halls.

A pit formed in her stomach. Here she was feasting and idling, chit-chatting about dressmaking and laughing with friends while her brother fought on the front lines. She felt her throat run dry. The wine tasted bitter in her mouth as she tried to soothe it.

Queen Fíriel left the feasting hall with Arveldir as the festivities began to wind down. But others were just getting started. A call went up for the minstrels to play merrier tunes and many of the tables were pushed to the sides. As they vacated their table, she took the opportunity to slip out.

This was wrong. Everything was wrong. They needed hope, yes, but she could not be a part of such revelries while Rínior risked his life over and over and over. She could hardly hold a sword in her hand but sometimes she wished she could learn just to give him a break from the bloodshed.

But then, perhaps he wouldn't take it even if offered. Everyone knew the Hero of the North, even if not his true name. Few knew what it cost. Rínior loved nothing more than his daughter, then Mírien, his little jewel. That was why he fought these days. She was glad he had something now, after five hundred years of going battle to battle.

They had nothing except a ruined royal lineage and each other, now. Rínior kept himself sane with the blade, and Maedeth did her best through her diplomatic words. For Mírien's sake, for Aranarth's sake, for Arveldir's sake, she hoped it would be enough.

Her chambers weren't far from the main entrance of the citadel at Fornost. As an advisor to the King she had her own suite and in better days, her own handmaidens. Now she fed and dressed herself, as all did their best to help the kingdom. Many handmaidens plied their trade as caregivers to the wounded.

She paused outside her chambers. A large glass window looked down from hard stone down into the city itself. Snow dusted the buildings and the streets. Icy mud had formed all along the busy thoroughfares. Horses and carts alike did their best to return to their stables uninjured despite the treacherous conditions. But far above in the darkness she could see Elbereth's stars, and for a moment, Maedeth just closed her eyes and breathed.

"It was a kind thing you did, engaging Tiniel in conversation with my mother."

She opened her eyes at Elladan's words, turning from the window to find him meandering down the hall. Maedeth just shrugged. "I did what I could. She looks up to Celebrían."

"As we all should."

Elladan joined her at the window, leaning against it so the chilly air cooled his back. He stood in silence for a moment, before turning to her. "How have you been, Maedeth? It's been far too long since you visited Rivendell."

Maedeth sighed. "Indeed. But you know why I stay away. Not all the elder Noldor take kindly to my presence, nor my brother's. And where he is not welcome, I will not go."

"When is the last time he returned here?"

"Not in the last two years, I don't think," Maedeth said. She turned her back on the window as well. "Time seems to pass unmarked here. Arthedain goes from one battle to the next, to the next. And all the while I wait for news that my brother has been killed. He will not be Hero of the North forever. Not if the war continues like this indefinitely."

Elladan frowned. But he agreed. "That is part of the reason my mother is here. She hopes to counsel Arvedui to beseech the rest of the free peoples for aid. 'Do not forget the words of Malbeth the Seer' she said. 'Arvedui bears the name Last-King for this reason - either the realms will unite and Arnor will be restored, or the kingdom of Arthedain will come to ruin'."

"Let us pray for the former," Maedeth said.

"Agreed." He turned to face her with a smile. "Regardless, you and your brother both do your house proud."

"I don't have a house, remember?" Maedeth half scoffed, half laughed. She just shook her head and ran a finger over the Star of Fëanor on her chest. "You have parentage to be proud of, Elladan. Twins of the line of Lúthien. We have an unspoken name tied to death and destruction. We have a doom over our heads."

"Well then, you and your brother do the Peredhil proud." He smiled. "Twins of the line of half-elves."

Maedeth closed her eyes. She allowed herself to breathe in the gentle hint of flowers that Elladan's clothing bore. It reminded her of her youth, when she had allowed herself time to spend winters in Rivendell. Happier days, if only because she did not yet comprehend what it meant to live like an elf amongst men in days of war. She closed her eyes. Maedeth allowed herself a moment to lay her head on Elladan's shoulder as they both sat on the windowsill of the great hallway. The frosted glass cooled her back even as she relaxed against him.

"Thank you, Elladan."