Disconsolate

Mellow Soulmate AU.  No one ever said Maedhros' marriage began in the ideal fashion.  Quenya names used (Maedhros = Maitimo).  This story is, of course, connected to those such as "Broken", "Weapon" and "Dramatic" amongst others.  Thus, the OFC in the story is Istelindë, though she is never mentioned by name.  Canonically, Olwë's family was never developed beyond "he had a couple of sons and daughters", but just go with the made-up family tree.  Takes place in Tirion in the Years of the Trees.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Silmarillion

Pairings: Maedhros x Istelindë (OFC)

Characters: Maedhros, Istelindë (OFC), Olwë, Olwë's heir, Finwë, Fëanor

Warning: not canon-compliant, original character warning, arranged marriages, political manipulation/maneuvering, dysfunctional families

Song: Requiem for the Living

Words: 1,059
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disconsolate (adjective): cheerless; dejected, downcast
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/disconsolate

It was not often that Maitimo lost an argument.  But today, he conceded defeat.  His father had soundly triumphed over him in their battle.

It was too late to launch a last-ditch effort of desperation.

Now there was no more time to tarry or doddle.  People were gathered in the streets and the holy places, excited and anticipating.  And the third in line to the throne stood in his room, in front of his mirror, examining the lavish robes draped off his long form.  They were, of course, of the finest silks, their designs crafted by only the most skilled in the art of needlework and their gemstones cut by only the finest craftsmen under his father's order.

All in all, the prince thought he looked rather ridiculous.  Especially with a gaudy crown of state woven through his hair, twined vines and green gems sparkling in the golden light seeping through his parted curtains.

What a joke.

But he wasn't laughing.  Instead, the prince plastered a smirk upon his features and waltzed confidently from the confines of safety, heading bravely out into a world he wanted no part of--wished he could hide from.  And, when he left his father's estate, thousands of eyes were peeled upon his form as he was carried in an open-topped carriage to the palace where his fate would be sealed.

Thousands of smiles gleamed up at him.  Thousands of gazes glimmered knowingly.  Many couples stood hand-in-hand as he passed, pressed so intimately close and so passionately in love, their children standing before them or beside them as testament to their devotion.

The people were celebrating the love and union of the heir to the throne.  A marriage which would disperse the heavy tension that always overshadowed Tirion.  The discomfort in the remembrance of the first Queen's death and replacement.  The estrangement of the Crown Prince and his oldest half-brother.  The feuding of two royal lines clashing in silent battle in the upper echelons of society until gloom lay heavy over all the land, the uncertainty of their future a weighty burden.

The people needed this marriage.  And this happiness.  A reason to lift their morale from the dregs of unhappiness and throw back the curtains keeping out the light.  This shadow needed to be dispersed.

Such his father had pointed out--too logically and too rightfully.  Maitimo felt the bitter twist in his gut unfurl once more, simmering low with unpleasant disdain bordering on something more dangerous and insidious.  Something not even the cheers of the delighted people could squash beneath overwhelmingly brilliant ambiance.

Of course, his arrival at their destination was heralded with a wall of noise.  Today, he looked every inch his status as the second-in-line to the throne--confident and assured in his glory--and he would not allow a frown to take away from this overwhelming wave of pure joy and revelry.

No matter how disconsolate it left him in the wake.

For marriages were supposed to be happy occasions.  The prince, as he beheld his father's stoic features waiting for him and his grandfather's kindly eyes boring holes in his fragile veil of deception, felt nothing short of pure cheerless resignation.  His family could say whatever they wished, but as he met those eyes--looked deep into the gray depths that were identical in assurance--he knew he was little more than a pawn.

"It is for the best--for everyone involved," his father had insisted. "Do as your duties demand, yondonya.  Do not make this more difficult than it must be."

None of those people knew his great love was all a farce.

After all, what a coincidence it would have been, had the second-in-line to the High King of the Noldor truly fallen so deeply and irrevocably in love with the oldest granddaughter of the High King of the Teleri that the differences and dislikes of the two peoples had been set aside for their marital peace.  What luck! the people proclaimed. And such a romantic tale!  Overcoming such odds!

Had he been alone, Maitimo would have snorted.

But he was not alone.  They were there as well--not only his own extended family and the courtiers and the councilors, but also his bride's extended family.  Olwë, with his frigid blue eyes and his heir--Maitimo's new father-in-law--with a smile that could have frozen white-hot flame.  The entirety of that royal family was present, from the King to his most distant cousin, all of them watching, knowing the truth, just as did the groom's family.

Knowing everything was all an act put together to soothe tensions and create alliances.

This was about politics.  Nothing to be overtly celebratory over.

And she was there.  He would have been a blind fool to lie to himself and say she wasn't absolutely glorious in her gown--a woman any man would be proud to have on his arm as a wife.  White hair was bound in ropes of braids and laced with the shells and pearls most coveted by her people.  Where Maitimo was all gold-encrusted and bold colors, she was layered in pastel greens and blues over white--the colors of the ocean so close to the hearts of all the Teleri.  Huge blue eyes looked up at Maitimo as they stood side-by-side, preparing for the bonding to begin, and he couldn't help but note that they were so very deep and clear.

And that they were blank and distant--just as emotionless as his flat gaze must appear to her impassive perusal.  They watched one another, hidden from the prying eyes of the public, both weighing and judging the other, as they had never even been acquainted. And then Maitimo forced a smile, inclining his head in respect. "Let us begin, my Lady."

The ceremony began and the private audience went silent and somber, but cheers from beyond the gates of the palace could still be heard echoing in the mighty marble halls.  Voices rang vibrant with reverence from the well-wishers come to witness the couple as they departed from these hallowed halls man and wife.  But only echoes--faded and grayed.

This event truly was disconsolate.  Solemn and cold.  And not just for the unwilling groom.

For all the show they managed to scrape together, not once did she smile.
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Until today, their marriage was never political in any fashion.  However, this prompt prompted me to change and evolve my ideas, and this is the result.  They will have a pre-Darkening arc--probably short but sweet.  As for the question of whether or not elves were likely to have arranged marriages for political reasons, I think it's idiotic to think they wouldn't.  Their governmental system seems starkly similar to many monarchies you can find in real life, thus I doubt they wouldn't be working for better ties and alliances.

It's an interesting concept in any case.  Clearly Valinor is not all its cracked up to be, and I want that to be evident in my AU.  Because every time I see the Undying Lands in any story, it's all flowers and butterflies and everyone's happy and nothing bad ever happens there because it's holy and perfect.  I think that's a load of BS personally.  I bet they have all the bad things there that you could find in--say--Minas Tirith or Edoras (e.g. murder and prostitution).  Money and politics exist, therefore I wouldn't be surprised to find assassination as well.

But enough about all of that.  Suffice to say, this piece has given me much to think about and several new pieces to write.

On to the music!  Requiem for the Living is by Yasushi Ishii and is from the Hellsing OST.  The original Hellsing anime, not the Ultimate OVA.  Personally, I would not recommend the original anime (it sucks, in my opinion), but the OVA is amazing (if you don't get queasy at large amounts of blood and dismemberment).  As for the song itself, I have the sheet music for this (and the time signature is a pain in the ass) and I absolutely love playing it as well as listening to it.  For some reason it's just the right amount of dreary and jazzy that it doesn't turn me off but at the same time isn't boring.  And the climax makes me shiver.

Thus, thou shouldst listen at least once to the whole thing.  I know it's not everyone's cup of tea.  And again with the piano... What can I say?  I'm biased.