~Lord Irmo’s Visit~

Fëanor was checking the rigging and instruments on his airship. This particular one was a specially built one that could almost be called a Royal Barge - if it sailed upon the waters. But this was an airship and it had been designed to carry his family and so it was large enough to accommodate his wife, daughters and all his sons and their families. For they were off to Tol Kimbalaer to attend the wedding of their sons and brothers, the Ambarussa at long last. 

Fëanor had a team of engineers and crew to outfit and check everything on board, but being Fëanor that meant he was going to check it out himself to make sure it was in perfect working order. Especially since it was about to carry a good portion of his family. Killing his family was not to be born - even if he had a Ñolofinwë that would chase him and his family out of the Halls and back out into the corporeal realm. Maglor had confided that his uncle had talked his ear off to the point that he’d left just to shut him up!

He knew his son was half joking, but he did owe Ñolo for the fact that he was enough of a storyteller that he’d piqued Laurë’s curiosity to see those things for himself. And since his release he’d reunited with his wife and he and Faila Ingólomë had been blessed with twin sons of their own they called Elerossë and Ellindë which is star-foam and star-song. 

Fëanor thought it somehow poetic that he had his own twin terrors and at least he had the experience with the twin terrors that had been Elros and Elrond! Even having the Ambarussa as siblings hadn’t prepared Maglor and Maedhros for the imps that were those boys!

And he’d been pleased with Elrond’s reaction to the news. He'd been so touched that Maglor had named their eldest after his brother, Elros, that tears had sprung to his eyes. Maglor, misunderstanding and thinking he’d made a grave error, had assured him that if it upset him he’d change his son’s name. But Elrond had vehemently told him he’d better not dare and then threw himself into Maglor’s arms and thanked him for remembering Elros.

And since his babes were just that, he’d decided to leave his family at home and had already left for Tol Kimbalaer as he and Daeron had been requested to play at the Ambarussa’s wedding. They were to join two other renown minstrels - Ivárë and Timpinen Gelion - and the two were quite excited about the prospect of playing with other renown masters of their craft.

He was just checking the pressure mechanism that maintained the heated air when he heard a soft cough behind him, startling him badly! Turning furiously to rip the intruder a new one - everyone knew not to bother him while he was checking over such sensitive equipment - and found himself face to face with Lord Irmo!

“Uh...Uh…” Fëanor stuttered.

“Calm yourself, elfling. I come to you because I believe you’re the only one who can help your brother.” and then he outlined what exactly he meant by that. To which, Fëanor exclaimed, “Argh! There is something wrong with you people!”

~Tol Kimbalaer~

The island of Tol Kimbalaer was something of a mess at the moment. Lord Nowë, formerly known as Círdan the Shipwright, was at a loss as to what to do. He supposed they’d just have to wait it out. It being the Valar’s insistence on attaching every single loose bit of rock or island that had once been part of the Enchanted Isles, to their landmass. 

The last time Prince Fëanáro had stopped by in his airship, he’d said it looked like a giant crab from the air. But that was before the Valar had moved several more of the islands into place creating a protected bay that was to all intents and purposes an inland sea now. There were still channels in several places so ships could maneuver in and out of the bay and it wasn’t the only inland sea at this point. 

Tol Kimbalear

Several of those - created by them slapping islands into place and affixing them - had miraculously turned into freshwater lakes and any irregularities in the topography started to form rivers and streams that threaded the growing island continent. And those living there had no idea why the Valar were so intent upon enlarging their island home, for they’d been content with what they had. But, no matter. There didn’t appear to be anything they could do about it anyway, as it wasn't as though they were being consulted about it.

In the meantime, they’d gotten quite used to the ground tremors that accompanied the attachment of yet another bit of land, and the day came in which Lord Nowë finally understood why such a large landmass was needed. For the elves of Sindanórië, Elu Thingol’s Realm of Fairinor, began to arrive. First in small numbers and then in larger waves until the entire remnants of Doriath and the royal family of Elu Thingol himself arrived. Nowë resigned himself to receiving a demand that the entire isle be turned over to his control. 

But no such request came. Indeed, Old Elu gruffly announced he’d retired and just wanted to be left in peace. Nowë grinned to himself in amusement. There seemed to be a lot of that going around. All the former kings had had a belly full of ruling and just wanted to relax and enjoy their lives. His grandfather, Olwë, had learned that lesson a long time ago, having given the stewardship of the city to his son, Volwë.

But right now he had to send the escort skiffs to lead Prince Fëanáro to the part of the island that would be the easiest to traverse to the New Woodland Realm - which had shifted since the prince’s last visit and was sure would annoy the Noldo immensely. Every time he’d arrived he’d had to re-orientate himself and he’d found it much more difficult and disorientating to make his way inland to find the Woodland Realm. This time would be no different!

The biggest headache Nowë predicted he’d be suffering from soon, was the many, many Noldorin scions who would be in no hurry to leave! For with this marriage, following the marriage of Prince Celegorm to a Silvan ellith, meant three of Prince Fëanáro’s sons were now going to be permanent residents of this island community. And this apparently had given others the idea that this might just be the perfect place to find some eligible wives! And if successful they’d find it nigh impossible to convince those Silvan ladies to leave their new forest home.

Which meant those Noldorin lads would stay. Aiiiii.....

~0~

As Fëanor’s ship passed over and left Tol Eressëa behind, he brought out his optical magnifier to gaze out across the sea to check their progress and there was no mistaking the enormous landmass that was now Tol Kimbalaer and he growled deep in his throat for it was plain to see that island had gained more bits and pieces since his last visit.

His Nerdanel would laugh at his irritation when he’d come home complaining that the island grew ever larger and he could see no reason why the Valar were taking the trouble to add more and more to it. It had been several decades since they’d liberated his grandson, Elrond’s parents and grandparents and they’d had no problem sinking that island! 

And it had been even longer since the last Elvenking of Ennorath had arrived with his strange cargo of Dwarves and Hobbits. He could understand wanting them to have enough room to grow, but they’d been tacking on the daisy-chain of the former Enchanted Isles in all that time. One would think they’d run out of islands by now!

He didn’t begrudge the effort but it was a pain in the ass every time he visited that he had to relearn the island as all former landmarks were gone, shifted or pushed so far inland they made no difference in marking them anymore. It was all very frustrating each time he came to visit his sons.

While the Ambarussa were courting their princesses, Fëanor made a trip to visit as he was worried about Celegorm who had returned to the island. And when he’d arrived he’d found his son wed. And while he’d found his son’s wife a delightful imp of an ellith, he had a hard time trying not to show how shocked and hurt he’d felt. When he got his son alone he’d asked Celegorm why he hadn’t sent for his family to witness his marriage.

“Because it wasn’t like that, atar. It just...sort of happened.” Celegorm said, looking away and a blush rising in his cheeks.

“I see.” Fëanor said. And not wishing his son to think he disapproved, he added, “So twas a natural marriage, then. Just like the Unbegotten in our beginnings. My own parents wed thusly.” 

“Truly, atar?” Celegorm asked, wide eyed.

“Aye. And if you think about it, that's how Elwë Singollo found himself wed..” Fëanor smiled.

“Yes, I know that story. He wed a maiar. I wonder why the Valar make such a fuss about it now?” Celegorm wondered.

“That is a good question, my son, and I suspect it’s something rather banal, like wishing for an excuse to have a celebration and feast. And as you’ve discovered, natural marriages still happen even to this very day.” Fëanor grinned, nudging his son, who smiled shyly in return.

When he’d returned to share the news with his wife, she’d burst into tears. Fëanor was horrified and tried to comfort her saying the ellith was a very fine lady, though a bit on the wild side, being a Silvan Woodelf. In other words, a perfect mate for their son. But Nerdanel had swatted at him and called him a fool of an elf. 

“I’m not upset, you dolt! I’m happy!” she sniffled, “I was afraid he’d never find his One. The only girl he ever formed an attachment with was Írissë.”

“That was only because she was just like him.” Fëanor said, ruefully.

Nerdanel gave a watery chuckle, saying, “I know Anairë was completely exasperated with her. She complained it was impossible to get her into a gown and she insisted on wearing her brother’s breeches and tunics. Not a proper young lady at all!”

“Well, come to think of it, the only proper young lady in our entire House was Findis and it took a terrible prank to turn her.” Fëanor exclaimed. He still wasn't sorry about that.

“Aye! I’ve never seen her behave unbecomingly, but I’ve heard...odd things of Lalwen.”

“Indeed, yes! Lally is someone you don’t want to get on the wrong side of! It’s no wonder to me that she’s Ñolo’s favorite sibling.”

“Well,” Nerdanel began, dabbing at her tears, “We aren’t talking about your brothers or sisters, we are talking about our son and I’m just so happy he’s found his life-mate. I just feared so much that he’d end up alone and that’s no way to spend your life.”

More surprising was when Celegorm had arrived with his wife Ealanna, to Orehtelë to introduce his parents to their newborn son, Caranor. Fëanor had been shocked, but welcomed them while surreptitiously informing the household staff to make the prince’s rooms ready for the wedded couple, including the accoutrements needed for a newborn! 

They’d had an enjoyable visit and Fëanor insisted on flying them back himself. Now he was looking forward to not only performing the ceremony at the binding of his youngest sons, he’d also gotten word that Celegorm and Ealanna were expecting again! Twins this time! A boy and a girl. Of course he and Nerdanel were ecstatic at the news.

His eldest, Maitimo, joked his three brothers had gone native - but Fëanor knew he wasn’t wrong! Those three sons had been renowned hunters in their youth and they’d completely given it up! They were all fishermen now! Fishermen! Fëanor would be upset….except he was deliriously happy they’d found their life-mates and were happy now. Settled! 

Or almost all settled. Just one more wedding to get through and then he’d be visiting his grandbabies! And at least his girls were old enough to make the trip this time which meant his Nerdanel was with him and seemed to be enjoying their air-voyage. She’d always been an adventurous ellith and he was glad she still had that same spirit within her. 

And his daughters, Telemnë and Telpinë, seemed to be especially enjoying the trip. All the children were enjoying the trip and they were everywhere! He’d forgotten how fast young children could move and the adults were definitely outnumbered on this voyage! They reminded him uncomfortably of the Ambarussa when they’d been young. They’d been almost uncontrollable in their youth and it was only the fact that they’d had five older brothers that the two had survived into adulthood!

Suddenly a small airskiff came alongside them and an, “AHOY there! Permission to come aboard, my lord!” sounded and getting permission from Fëanor, a grappling hook appeared and caught hold of their ship and an ellon ran lightly across the rope, much to Nerdanel’s horror and all the children’s delight! 

Dropping lightly onto the deck and with a hasty bow and introducing himself as Voronwë, son of Aranwë of the Houses of Fingolfin and Olwë and explaining he was there to direct Fëanáro’s ship to a new bay that had opened up quite near the woodland realm. 

As he spoke he detached the hook and then busily started tying lines thrown to him from various airskiffs that now surrounded them. And then in a booming voice that didn’t match his stature, he called out that all was secure and the airskiffs began slowly turning and towing the larger ship toward the direction they wished to direct them.

Fëanáro, his interest piqued by the ellon’s claim that he was of both the House of his brother and Olwë, asked how he was related to both houses.

“Ah well, let’s see...my naneth is Lord Nowë’s sister, making him my uncle. And of course, that makes Lord Olwë my andaeradar. As for my adar, he’s brother to Lady Anairë and brother-in-honor to Lord Ñolofinwë and my uncle.” Voronwë said cheerfully.

“I see. But it seems to me I’ve heard your name - specifically. In the Halls as part of the unfolding stories that took place in Beleriand in the First Age.” Fëanáro said speculatively, an eyebrow raised in inquiry. He might as well ask since he wasn’t required to steer just now!

Laughing, Voronwë said, “I hadn’t thought I rated a mention in the stories from that Age. But if you must know, my family followed King Turgon and were of Gondolin. My King sent me to my Uncle Nowë as one of the many ships he sent to Valinor to request aid. After seven unsuccessful years seeking a way to Aman, all aboard my ship perished except me when we were within sight of the coast of Nevrast by the grace of Lord Ulmo. I entered that long abandoned city and found Tuor, son of Huor, bearing the sword, armour and shield that King Turgon had left by the command of Lord Ulmo. He spoke the words of Lord Ulmo and I led him to Gondolin. There he gave the message to King Turgon - who ignored it - but allowed the man to stay and wed his daughter, the Princess Idril. That was the only part I played.” and then, “Oh! And I was also part of the crew that sailed with my Lord Eärendil aboard Vingilótë when he sought Aman. I made it there that time and returned with the host for the War of Wrath and then brought my family back here. That is all.”

And as Fëanor stood with his mouth agape, which Nerdanel gently closed for him, while exclaiming, “My goodness! That is all? Young ellon! I’m here to tell you that you were very much favored by the Valar and it seems to me you were born and placed in the very places where you would be needed to play a very important part.” and turning to her husband, asked, “Don’t you think so, husband?”

“Indeed!” Fëanor agreed, eyebrows practically resting in his hairline.

~The Un-king~

Thranduil, former king of the Woodland Realm, was feeling out of his depth. He was currently up to his earlobes in Noldor and he was running out of places to stash them!

He was trying to do his best and he knew he wasn’t alone, but they just didn’t have the sort of accommodations they once did. He wasn’t sorry about that, but when they’d all been in the Halls all he’d have to do was to turn it over to Galion and it was magically done!

He was joined by his father and the smirk on his face let Thranduil know he was the butt of some cosmic joke he alone was clueless of. Heading him off, he asked, “Why the smirk, ada? You look like you're in on some joke I’m unaware of. And while I don’t necessarily mind that, I’d at least like to know what I’ve done that is so amusing?”

“Nothing so dramatic, son. I’m just enjoying you look so out of your depth. I imagine that doesn’t happen often to you.”

“That’s not true, ada. I was completely lost after you...er...left the first time. Besides, I just don’t know how to handle this. I have too many people here and not enough places to put them.”

“That is a pickle.”

Sighing, Thranduil said, “Alright, ada. What are you trying not to tell me?”

“Well, son, I rather think it’s an uncomplicated matter. Simply put, we have all chosen to live in Telain here. And if you think putting a bunch of Noldor up in the trees is a good idea, I’m here to tell you that’s a disaster just waiting to happen. We’ll be deluged with falling elves who don’t have the sense of a squirrel in no time at all. Now, that open field right outside the forest would make a fine place to set up pavilions and sturdy pergolas for outdoor cooking stations and bathing facilities and then let them sort themselves out. Put up some colorful decorations and they’ll think it a Grande Faire!” and then he smiled as he watched his son’s eyes widen as enlightenment registered and wasn’t at all surprised when he found himself in a bone-crushing bearhug from his grateful son.

“That’s perfect, ada! Thank you! I’ll get everyone right on it!” Thranduil said as he strode away, which Oropher knew meant that Galion was about to have a large project dumped in his lap.

~0~

Well pleased with the magical job the organizational perfection that was Galion had performed upon a pleasant but useless field that no one knew what to do with, the problem of storing the Noldor until after the wedding was tidily settled and now the Royal family - who were pretending they weren’t royal - could focus all their attention of getting their girls wed. Much to the amusement of all, the Ambarussa were completely sanguine about the whole affair. As far as they were concerned they would suffer anything just to wed their beloveds. 

Amrod had even gone as far as to say, “Just lay out the clothes you want us to wear and tell us where to stand and we’ll be fine.”

Though, as talented Smiths, they’d already wrought finely detailed filigree circlets for their ladies as a wedding gift.

Later when the Noldor started arriving it was clear that something was afoot! Instead of the polite representatives arriving to pay their respects, entire families were descending on the isle. When Lord Elrond and his kin arrived an explanation was forthcoming - and then new anxieties began bubbling to the surface. For, as it turned out, most Noldorin families were rich with sons while there was a dearth of daughters. It had also been noted that the woodland realm had plenty of unattached ellyth. 

And when three princes of the House of Finwë seemed well disposed to attach themselves to the ladies there, the rest had pounced with hopes of marrying off unattached sons in the hopes that grandchildren would be in their future! Now there was scarcely an unattached ellyth that didn’t have an escort of their male kinsmen surrounding them to keep the rapscallions away, much to the ladies' chagrin!

With all the arrivals, some would need more appropriate accommodations and several special telain had been constructed near to the Iathrim royals as guest quarters. Quite elaborate telain had already been constructed by the Ambarussa themselves for themselves and their future brides near to the ladies’ family so they would be surrounded by their kin, which was just fine! For Amras and Amrod found they liked those of the House of Oropher who had embraced them quite willingly. 

The only two they had to be wary of were the Celewanûn, the silver twins, Eluréd and Elurín who, when it came to pranks, made the Ambarussa seem like pikers in comparison. They would never admit it, but this actually impressed the hell out of the Fëanorions as they never saw it coming and it was always benign and all in good fun! And they would also never admit that it truly made them feel as welcomed members of the family. 

And to their credit, the Celewanûn knew this and acted accordingly. Plus it was fun!

~Settling In~

As Fëanor, Nerdanel and the girls settled into their telain - Fëanor insisted he could navigate the ethereal structure that wrapped around a grouping of three large accommodating trees - he wasn’t surprised to learn his sons had opted for the Faire Grounds just outside the forest. They insisted they preferred to keep their feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much!

Maglor and the Ambarussa had sought them out right away and they happily helped with the settling in while keeping up a steady stream of chatter, filling in their parents with their doings as the Ambarussa reintroduced themselves to their little sisters as it had been a long time since they’d made the journey to visit their parents. Not a lot of time as counted by the eldar, but the girls didn’t remember their brothers at all and were delighted to see they weren’t the only ones who had a twin.

Their delight grew when Eiliana and Eliadmë came to call and Nerdanel saw for the first time what had so enraptured her sons, for they were simply lovely in both form and fëar! And she loved sitting out on the veranda with her husband and enjoying a nice cuppa in the fresh crisp air in these first days of yávan, when the leaves were just beginning to clothe themselves in their festive glory. Watching her sons with her daughters and future daughters-in-honor, Nerdanel felt as content as she had in the springtime of her marriage with her Fëanor.

Catching her stray thought, Fëanor smiled and brought up her hand to plant a loving kiss on the inside of her wrist while their fëar swirled and mingled intimately within their Bond, and then said, "It's nice here isn't it?"

"Yes, indeed, beloved. And while I love the splendor of Orehtelë and the rugged beauty of Rónaranië, I have to say there is something about being within the forest here that is so soothing to my fëa." she sighed.

"I agree, beloved. Somehow in our Beginnings we discovered those things we were good at and instead staying together as a people we separated into those tribes that forever separated us into those grouping with a singular talent. That may have been a mistake." Fëanor mused.

"Aye. But we were new and had no understanding at the time and no one to tell us differently. Had there been no Morgoth we probably would have mingled more. We were all in one place, after all." Nerdanel said, and then, "But it is what it is and there's nothing to be done about it. If anything our sons have shown that there is still the choice of a mingling." contentedly gazing at her children at play.

And in the grassy glade within encircling telain that housed the families of the royal family, Maglor played while the Ambarussa made wildflower crowns for their beloveds and the little ellyth were delightfully brushing and braiding the Gwenyneilian’s hair and when the girls ran out of flowers to place in their braids the ellyth would sing up more blooms to the delight of the little ones who gleefully picked them to add to their masterpieces.

“Ah, They’re magical!” Nerdanel smiled sedately, completely relaxed.

“Yes, the woodelf magic. Every tribe has their own talents, though I’d be hard pressed to name what the vanyar are good at.” he smirked.

“Now, now." Nerdanel gently chided, "Haven’t you figured that out yet? They all have the voice of power. All their songs bring visions with them. When they tell a story they can make you see it play out. It’s how Findaráto nearly beat that dark maia.”

“Thingol’s daughter actually defeated that same maia.” Fëanor pointed out.

“Yes and she also sang Morgoth, himself, asleep. And then sang Mandos into giving her and her husband a new life. I think it helps that she was half maiar herself, dear. And that one little detail takes nothing away from our Findaráto who is just a lowly elf like the rest of us.” Nerdanel said smugly.

“Yes, yes, fine. But for all the lore of the Noldor even I have to admit the Teleri are more gifted than most. They have strong elemental magic whether on the waters or in the forest. Why I’ve even heard tales of their king being able to calm the beasts in his woods.” Fëanor said.

“Yes and I can see how such would be very nice to be around. It is very soothing here. I think I’ll ask the ladies if they’d like to join us for dinner.” and before Fëanor could issue a protest she was up and walking over to the ellyth. Fëanor could see his sons’ had finished their floral crowns and his daughters their masterpiece of braids and the princesses stood in their floral splendor, smiling prettily at their future mother-in-honor.

But when she issued her invites they politely declined, curtsied to her, their betrotheds and most especially to the little girls and then they left with a skip to their step and made their way to a very large Talan that was across the glade. When the rest made their way towards their guest-talan, Fëanor heard, “You scared them away, amil!” and “Indeed! That is not the way of things here.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to show poor manners. I thought I was being hospitable.” Nerdanel said as they entered the talan.

“Can you tell me what the proper thing would have been to do?” Fëanor asked.

“Oh, they aren’t as formal as haru’s court.” Amras said.

“But we will have to wait for an invitation from either their atar or one of their brothers.” Amrod said.

“And after that we can visit whenever we like and have them over for meals.” Amras concluded.

“And that’s it.” they both concluded.

“And I don’t need to go and present myself?” Fëanor asked, for he'd already met the ladies' family and wondered if this was a marriage formality.

“No atar. That will be the purpose of the invitation. They will probably invite you and ammë over for tea, lunch or dinner and that will be when all the niceties are observed.” Amrod smiled as he laid the dinnerware.

“And I’m sure they’ll also wish to go over all the arrangements and explain their traditions for the binding since that is your job.” Amras said as he helped his mother place the food on the table and settle his sisters. 

“That is well then. Very organized and to the point. I find I approve. Our betrothal ceremonies and traditions can really bog things down. Things weren't always so complicated.” Fëanor noted.

“You are thinking of our brother.” Amras smiled.

“I am! No complications and the lady’s family weren’t offended or outraged. They were simply happy their daughter found her One.” Fëanor smiled.  

“What I’d like to know is what you find so engrossing here that you won’t even consider returning to your atar’s realm and raising your families there?” Nerdanel asked the dreaded question. 

The two exchanged a glance and said, “Hobbits!” and Nerdanel looked at her husband, who was barely able to smother his grin before explaining to his confused wife, “They speak of the halflings, my love. You must have seen them when Artanis returned.”

“Yes, I did. But what of them?” 

“King Thranduil brought the whole population when he arrived. Along with the dwarves, of course.” Amras said.

“Yes, indeed. And if it wasn’t for the Hobbits it would be for the dwarves.” Amrod added.

“Indeed yes! Both are so different from elves it’s quite refreshing.” Amras concurred.

“Yes, brother, but the Silvans are quite different from those of Aman, as well. Which is also refreshing.” Amrod pointed out.

“That’s true. And it’s strange for these Sindar to be more at home with their Silvan counterparts.” Amras said thoughtfully.

“Not so strange. They were all part of the same Telerin clan in their beginnings. These just chose to take their customs as their own instead of insisting they adapt to the Sindarin customs.” Amrod said.

“Aye, but they did take up their technologies.” Amras said.

“So a blending of two cultures that enhanced both peoples.” Fëanor said in approval.

“Exactly!” they both chimed. Fëanor had to admit he’d missed that from them, though his girls did the same. Except for right now. Right now they were just watching with wide eyed attention. He was sure they were chatting to one another trying to decide what to make of the adult talk.

“But that still doesn’t explain why you refuse to come home.” Nerdanel said, exasperated and missing her boys dreadfully.

“We aren’t refusing to come home. We are choosing to make this our home. And it’s not like we won’t visit nor that you can’t visit us here.” Amrod said.

“Aye! It’ll be an excuse to fly the airships!” Amras grinned.

Suddenly the twins burst out together, “We want an Epessë!” and then looked wide-eyed at their family as everyone turned to look at them and the two weren’t used to being the center of attention in such a setting. But then Telpinë, the bolder of the two, said, “All the twins have one! You have Ambarussa!” she said almost accusingly.

“And your ladies have Gwenyneilian!”

“Elrond’s sons have Elwanûr.”

“Star-twins! Oh, that’s nice.” Nerdanel exclaimed.

“And Eluréd and Elurín have Celewanûn, the silver twins.” Amras said, thinking and looking at his sisters.

“But we want that one!” Telemnë said, crestfallen.

“Well, theirs is Sindarin. What about...Onónailsa? It is the quenya form of silver-twins but using the super secret mystical word for silver!” Fëanor leaned in as though he was imparting a special wisdom upon his daughters. The twins ate it up and smiled beatifically!

“Oh yes, atar! We love it!” they cried in unison.

~0~

Later on, after their sons had left and they were preparing for bed, Fëanor could feel his wife’s unhappiness. As they lay in bed, Fëanor wrapped his arms around her and mind-spoke to her through ósanwe, “Beloved, all will be well. We must learn to let go of them. Who knows? Perhaps after a few seasons they will decide to return to our city. But if not, there will be no reason why we can’t do as they said and fly to visit them. I believe after a few years we’ll have as many kin here as we do at home.”

“I know what you say makes sense. And it’s not as though we don’t have enough grandchildren to go around. It makes me happy to know our girls have playmates their own age. It’s just that for two millennia I was without you all and now that Laurë is finally home and we had the chance to all be together…” and she let the thought trail off. Perhaps she was being selfish.

“Nay. Do not think it. You have paid a price that no mother should pay. And I’m sorry for it.” And as she began to object, he kissed the side of her head and added, “It is alright beloved. I know I was wrong. At least in my cruelty towards you. And I should have left the Ambarussa with you.”

Sighing, Nerdanel answered fatalistically, “I thank you for saying that. But we both know it played out as it was meant to. Our boys loved you dearly and took the Doom on themselves willingly. Had they not felt so strongly about it they would have defied you and stayed with me. And I don’t believe they loved me less for their choice to follow you. I am their mother and know they love me. But they felt it a matter of honor and….I suspect there was hope for a bit of adventure involved. I don’t believe they thought it would become the utter nightmare that it was.”

“Our poor boys. We must try to help them have a good life. Even if that means they live somewhere else.” Fëanor said.

“Alright beloved. Sleep well.” Nerdanel said.

“In your arms? Always.” Fëanor smiled.

~Meeting the In-Laws!~

The next morning Lord Belegon arrived with his sons, Collion and Falver, all three sporting the pale red-gold hair and aqua eyes of Mirilla, King Thranduil’s wife. They bowed and cheerfully introduced themselves to a bemused Nerdanel - who wasn’t a morning person - until Fëanor joined her and greeted them with easy familiarity.

“Ah! Good morning, my lords. How are you on this fine day? I see you’ve found my lovely Nerdanel.”

“Indeed, my lord! And you’re correct! She is as lovely as a lingering sunset.” Belegon grinned in his open and good natured manner.

Color now staining her cheeks, Nerdanel found she liked these easy going elves who also had such nice manners. She could see why her sons fell under their spell. “Please, would you like to join us for tea?” she asked, completely forgetting what her sons’ had told her the day before. Fëanor’s eyes widened a little in alarm, fearing a slight.

But Belegon eased his concerns when he laughed, his eyes twinkling, quickly realizing the lady hadn’t had her morning tea yet and wasn't quite with them yet, saying, “Thank you, no, my lady. Though we thank you for the offer. No, we have come to invite you all for lunch.”

And before Nerdanel could fret about her girls, Collion added, “And you needn't worry about your ellyth. My andaeriel’s children are of their age and she has offered to watch over them.”

“Andaeriel?” Nerdanel asked faintly, for Collion still looked green about the ear-tips and Fëanor, misunderstanding, offered, “His great granddaughter, love.”

To which, Nerdanel rolled her eyes and said, “I know Telerin. He just seems, seems…” and her eyes widened when she realized she was about to make a personal comment about him, but he laughed easily and his adar said, “Have no fear, my lady. He’s used to it.” and then, “Is noontime convenient?”

“Indeed, yes!” Fëanor agreed.

“Very good. Falver here,” who grinned and waved, “Will come and direct you to our Talan. Until then?”

“Until then, my lord!” Fëanor smiled.

After closing the door, Nerdanel crumpled and moaned, “Oh I made a complete fool of myself. I should never have answered the door!”

Chuckling, Fëanor embraced her and said, “Nay. It is alright, my love. You just informed them you are not all there before your morning tea and they seemed to understand very well.” and kissing her brow, he added, “Come! Let us feed our little harridans so they are in good humour when we drop them into the laps of Lord Collion’s unsuspecting family!”

~0~

The Luncheon was a smashing success, especially since Nerdanel was fully caffeinated and in good cheer. She absolutely adored Belegon’s wife, Celalpheth, whose name meant silver swan, and who was as lovely as her name implied. And as the males spoke about the binding ceremony the ladies wandered off to walk about the garden areas Celalpheth had decorated with hanging wisteria that she would gently scold when attempting to escape their confinement and choke one the trees the talan was built around.

Nerdanel was considered a mage in her stone-work, but she found she was enchanted by the plant-lore of these Telerin elves.

Then, when her girls were delivered back and trying not to show how disappointed they were to be parted from their new friends, the Fëanoreans thanked their hosts for a fine time and bid them good day. When they returned Fëanor told his wife that was the whole of the Sindarin niceties and they’d be welcome to come and go now, as they pleased.

Oh, my! You mean we can just go and drop in on them?” Nerdanel asked, for it was one of the more irritating things she’d found in Tirion that there was the constant need to send a messenger with an announcement or reply to a proposed casual visit from friends and kin alike.

“Yes, indeed. I don’t know what kind of court Thingol maintained, but these ones who joined themselves to the Silvan did away with much of their courtly manners. I’m told that they did seem to insist on dressing up their king and royals like a child’s doll, but for the most part they are very much like we all were in our Beginnings.”

Laughing, Nerdanel said, “A child’s doll?”

“Yes! Lord Belegon said they were mostly left alone once their sire, Oropher, was made king, but they also insisted they dress a certain way for feasts and official visits. And since Oropher and his son were kin to Thingol they were used to it. But Belegon said he was born in Sirion and had been permitted to run around like a little fëa sprite, as he put it, and after the years of traveling to the Rhovanion he was not pleased at all in having to dress in courtly attire.” Fëanor smirked.

“You like him!” Nerdanel said in wonder.

“I do! I like all of them. I can’t wait until we go to Celegorm’s village so you can see a real Silvan Village!” he said in excitement.

“Is it far?” Nerdanel asked, thinking of her girls.

“Nay! They are close by way of a major river here and we’ll make the journey by boat. They live on the shores of a large freshwater lake where Celegorm sails and fishes for the village. It’s beautiful there, my love. Simply beautiful.” he enthused.

“Oh, I can’t wait!.” she was wondering if she couldn’t talk him into letting them stay until the new babes arrived. But she needn’t have worried. Fëanor planned to do just that!

~Game Night~

“Has anyone seen Arakáno?” Fingolfin asked, looking around as they walked to the meeting hall.

“You really need to stop clinging to that boy! You’re going to stunt him!” Fëanor grimaced. The rest of his kin had arrived over the past week, most of whom having chosen the Faire Grounds as their place of abode. Fëanor had been summoned by his atar and as he made his way to the meeting hall, he’d been joined by his brothers on the way, who had also received the summons.

Fingolfin knew Fëanor was right, but he just couldn’t. Fëanor had never held his child as they bled out and Fingolfin would forever feel grief and guilt over that.

And Fëanor suddenly understood and pulled his brother aside, waving Finarfin on, who shrugged and continued on his way. “Alright. Out with it.”

“I don’t……”

“Cut the crap, Ñolo! It’s been ten thousand years since you lost him. He’s been back out in the world for eight thousand years! Yet you cling to him like he’s a toddler. Look at him! He’s just as big as Nelyo and he’s a fine figure of an elf. He can take care of himself.” and turning a fierce gaze on his brother, he added, “You have to let him go!”

Sighing, Fingolfin said, “You’re right, brother. But in this I may need your help. Knowing with my mind that he is fine doesn’t erase the memory I have of him dying in my arms.”

“He died in your arms?” Fëanor asked and let out an explosive breath when Fingolfin nodded sadly. “I’m sorry, brother. I’m not sure I’d be able to get over that myself. I saw all my sons die, of course. Part of Námo’s gentle mercies, I suppose.”

“I believe there was a desire to punish you. As if to throw it in your face, Look what you’ve done to your poor children! But I also know Námo has a lot less autonomy than we supposed.” Fingolfin said bluntly.

“Hence the beginning of the changes when you arrived.” Fëanor said with the clarity of hindsight. 

“Yes, though I would have argued vehemently against that hypothesis at the time. But I suppose I inadvertently gave him an opportunity when I asked for what I did - which was to be with my son.”

“You would have argued about everything at that time. In fact, you’re still argumentative.” Fëanor said, adding, “Obviously he saw something in you that he felt he could encourage. Exactly what was it you two talked about when he’d call you to the school masters desk?”

“Probably the fact I was the only one dumb enough to poke a bunch of holes in their brother.” Fingolfin sighed, and then, “It always started with him telling me I couldn’t do what I was doing and me saying I’d do as I pleased. I don’t know if I was trying to goad him - as I’ve said before, I didn’t care - but if what I was doing was so intolerable he’d have taken what he’d given me. And he never did.”

“And…?” Fëanor prompted.

“We played strategy games. There was one I did pretty well at - Backgammon - but that was mostly due to the luck of the dice.”

“How strange that that’s what we're about to do right now. Go watch our elders play games all night.” Fëanor said wryly as he sauntered toward the meeting chambers appropriated for the night’s activities.

“Yes and our presence is required so we can fetch and carry for them.” Fingolfin sighed, despondently following his brother.

~The Need for Truancy~

One of the most humorous things the brothers, Fëanor, Fingolfin and Finarfin thought they would ever see was the reunion of Finwë, Ingwë and Elwë. And with them were Elwë’s brothers Elmo and Olwë and they were playing some sort of strategy game involving tiles. Carcassonnë. In other words - War! They were playing war and the elves who had never fought in one were beating the tar out of the only one who had - Thingol!

Not quite as amusing was being part of the same generation that had the Noldorin, Vanyarin, Sindarin and Falmari lords all being treated like sassy children and were all basically there to play as serving stewards to the whims of their elders - also set up at various tables - who wished for refills of wine, mead, ale or something to nibble on. Noticeably missing from their number was Thranduil. 

“So, where is the king?” Finarfin asked, looking around.

“There’s a whole table full of them. Which king do you mean?” Fingolfin asked.

“The one who really is the king here and the haru of the ellyth my sons are going to marry in three days time!” Fëanor said wryly.

Snorting in amusement, Fingolfin said, “Odd, isn’t it? He was king so long that’s just how everyone thinks of him. Even those of us who never knew him as king. The only one who would know about that would be you brother.” he said grinning at Finarfin.

“Did you really throw your crown at your advisors?” Fëanor asked in amusement.

“No! Don’t be silly!” Finarfin said, and then smirking, added, “I threw it out the window. I heard it landed in some poor vendor's produce. But my question still stands. Where is he? Because I want to know how he got out of this and I want in on the secret.”

“Oh, it’s no secret. He has that maia of his run interference for him.” Fingolfin smirked.

“That’s handy. But, don’t we have one of those, too?” Fëanor asked, looking pointedly at Fingolfin with a lifted brow as if to say, Weeelll... Do something!

“I suppose I need lessons, because I have no idea how to get myself out of this, let alone the two of you!”

“Can you call to him?” Finarfin asked, hopefully and Fingolfin shrugged and putting up his hand to cover his face he tried just that, hoping to be sly enough that no one would figure out what he was up to. For if you’re going to be essentially turned into a maia, no one could blame you if you tried to play with it ever so often, could they?

He was shocked at how easy it was and when he explained their predicament, he actually heard the maia laugh at him good naturedly, but also promising he’d be right there. That apparently meant he just popped over but was sly enough to walk into the room as if he’d arrived by conventional means. 

Walking up to the table he waved his hands as the lords made to get up and bow and then he put his hands on his hips and made a show of talking to Finwë while pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the three brothers, who wondered at the narrowed eyes their father pointed at them, before he nodded to Aiwendil who happily gestured his thanks and walked over to the brothers, grinned and said, “Follow me.” which they happily did to the chagrin of the others left stuck in the meeting chamber.

Once they were outside, he turned and said, “There now! That wasn’t so hard, was it?” and he started to walk away, when Fingolfin called him back.

“Wait! First of all, thank you! I owe you one! And secondly, what did you say to get us out of there?”

“Oh, that was easy. I told your father you three didn’t show up for some very important wedding arrangements that urgently required your attention. Which, by the way, is why you don’t actually owe me since I’m collecting right now. So, follow me!”

And at the glare his brothers pointed at him, Fingolfin shrugged and said, “Well, he did get us out of there, so…” and moved to follow the former istari wizard.

~Meanwhile~

“What the hell happened to your kid, Finwë?” Ingwë asked.

“Messed with the Doomsman one too many times and got himself turned into his servant.” Finwë grumbled.

“That’s harsh!” Elmo said with wide eyes.

“Aye! Family disgrace, he is. Turned into one of them now!” Finwë groused.

“There’s nothing wrong with the maiar.” Thingol murmured.

“You mean besides the ones who went bad or the ones that ended up as pushovers for your grandkids?” Finwë said pointedly.

“There is nothing wrong with them. You should be rather proud to have one in the family. Not that you don’t already. After all, my grandkids are also your grandkids and Ingwë’s too for that matter.”

“Oh! Those grandkids. Well, you would know, after all. You married one.” Ingwë said pointedly.

“I did! And as proof they’re just like regular folk I managed to screw up and get myself killed even after she told me not to do what I did anyway.” Thingol said sagely.

“So, what’d she say to you when you got out?” Finwë asked.

“Called me an idiot and took me home. She actually isn’t the type to nag and harp on a matter.” Thingol grinned and then laid down his final tiles. When the points were all added up he’d won.

“Ha! I told you! Keep your realm secure and your allies close and you’ll carry the day!” he announced smugly, having won because his opponents' kingdoms were so large and ungainly it was impossible to keep them intact and secure. They’d all ended up devouring one another and destabilizing what they’d had, leaving Thingol the winner!

~Pipeweed~

Fëanor was scandalized! Really! Truly! Scandalized!

“They’re smoking! Why are they all smoking that foul weed?!!” he asked in disgust.

Having finished up all the chores the maia, Aiwendil, had them complete several times until they were deemed acceptable, they had been led to an area that was protected by tree-canopy where they’d set up a sort of wet-bar. Several of the royals were already there as well as the two former istari-wizards.

“I don’t know, but can’t you tell this has a different scent than what the Halflings partake of? And whatever this is? It seems to have a tranquilizing effect on them. Almost like Yavanna’s Harvest wine.” Fingolfin said musingly.

“Oh my! Horrible stuff, that! You wake up three days later in a strawberry field with foxes and rabbits snuggled up to you!” Finarfin exclaimed and then snapped his mouth shut as his brothers looked at him as though he’d just grown a second head.

“Well, I’m going to ask them about it.” Fingolfin declared and walked over to where Aiwendil, Olórin and the elvenking’s youngest son, Reuel, were collected and blowing clouds with their ornate pipes. Finarfin and Fëanor watched curiously as their brother casually walked over and began gesturing - no doubt asking about the pipe-weed. 

Those gathered grinned and Aiwendil passed over his own pipe and looked to be directing Fingolfin’s hesitant movements until he put the pipe to his lips and drew a small amount and blew it out. There were then waved hands and shook heads and the brothers understood - even from that distance - they were telling him to hold it. They exchanged confused glances as that’s not how the halflings or even Olórin smoked the stuff. 

But Fingolfin did as he was directed and when he looked to be holding it too long they gestured for him to blow it out. He repeated this several times and suddenly they could feel his fëa turn fuzzy and it...it tingled! They exchanged a fearful glance and rushed right over to see what had happened to their brother!

Meanwhile, Fingolfin was delightfully surprised that something that produced such an unsavory odor was actually quite nice! And meeting the eyes of Aiwendil and Olórin he could swear they hugged him with their minds as he heard a fluffy, Brrruuuutheeerrr, from them. And then he started to giggle. Not laugh. He giggled! And he couldn’t stop. Somewhere deep inside, he felt this should alarm him, but he found he didn’t care.

Then his brothers were with him, looking very alarmed, and he swung his arms around both their necks and pulled them in close, grinning, “Ah! My brothers! Have I told you how much I love you lately?” and he kissed them both on the sides of their heads and the two looked at each other in horror!

“What have you done to him?” Finarfin demanded.

“And what did you give him? What is this foul weed?” Fëanor demanded furiously.

“Ah! It is a species of the Sweet Galenas which grows wild here in Aman and then on Númenórë due to its close proximity and what with birds dropping the seeds and all....” Aiwendil began, vaguely waving his hands.

“Of course it was brought to Ennorath where it was brought to Arnor.” Olórin continued, nodding sagely.

“And to Gondor, as well.” Aiwendil added.

“Yes, but that isn’t important.” Olórin insisted, continuing, as he was a self-described expert in pipe-weed lore,  “In Arnor it made its way to the little Hamlet of Bree and that is where the Periannath discovered it.”

“Well, it couldn’t be discovered if it was already there!” Aiwendil exclaimed.

“Yes, but it was the Periannath who first stuffed it into a pipe to smoke it.” Olórin explained proudly, as though it was his discovery! “And they were also the ones who domesticated and cultivated it for distribution.” He then continued with, “Indeed, it was old Tobold Hornblower of the Southfarthing who developed the Longbottom Leaf.”

“It is of the genus Nicotianeae and includes Longbottom Leaf and Old Toby. When smoked it has an interesting effect of both relaxation and alert awareness and a focus of attention when needed.” Aiwendil explained, as he was a maiar of Yavanna and knew all such botanical lore.

Continuing, he added, “But they also developed Southern Star which is of the genus Cannabaceae which definitely has a euphoric and calming sedative effect. It is quite pleasant, though the periannath don’t seem to value it at all.” he concluded incredulously.

“Oh they value it. They just don’t understand its true value - preferring their ale and mead, don’t you know.” Olórin said sagely, adding, “No, no they don’t understand it at all and mostly use it in a medicinal way to help alleviate pain.”

“But why is he like this?” Finarfin asked fretfully.

“Oh, well, it’s his first time, don’t you see. And this one packs quite a, uh, potent punch.” Aiwendil said, grinning widely.

“I’ll say. This is better than Yavanna’s wine!” Reuel agreed.

“Well, she is my mentor, after all. I just, uh, tweaked it a bit.” Aiwendil said proudly.

“And it is very nice, Aiwendil! Very nice indeed.” Olórin intoned approvingly and pulled deeply on his pipe.

“InDeeeed!” Fingolfin squeed and began snickering. Fëanor looked at his brother, fearful now, and turned furiously towards the maiar and growled at them, “You fix him right now!”

But Reuel smiled and said, “Oh, there’s no fixing involved. He’ll come down soon and he may be veerrry hungry! Then he’ll sleep. And when he wakes up he’ll be fine.” he assured the brothers.

“Yes! And no hangovers! It really is much better than wine, in my opinion. You get all the glowy festival joy without any of the unfortunate side effects of wine consumption.” Olórin said jovially.

“How long?” Finarfin asked helplessly.

“Oh, well, it may be awhile.” Aiwendil smiled happily.

“I’m going to kill him!” Fëanor sighed.

“Oh, you don’t want to inadvertently trigger his self-defense protocols!” Olórin warned.

“No indeed. Why, he doesn’t even know he has them.” Aiwendil agreed.

“Could get very messy and then we’d have to go and bother old Námo to fish you out.” Olórin tutted.

“Well, let’s get our inebriated friend out under Ithil and the stars so he can dance to the Music!” Aiwendil said happily.

“Oh my, Yes! What fun we will have!” Olórin exclaimed with such joy that those who had known him in Ennorath would be hard-pressed to recognize him.

And with that, the two former wizards pulled the already high-flying Fingolfin from his brothers’ grasp and disappeared with a blink of the eye. Reuel turned to smile at the brothers, saying, “He’ll be fine!”

~0~

Fëanor went out the next morning and went to find his sister-in-honor. He didn’t know why Lord Irmo had come to him but he needed to talk to Ñolo’s wife, Anairë.

When he found her she looked wary at first and Fëanor didn’t feel like he had the time to fuss with niceties. “Where’s Ñolo?”

“He’s sleeping. Those maiar brought him back insensible only an hour ago and he’s not twitched once since.”

“That’s good. We won’t be interrupted.” Fëanor said, adding, “Now, tell me what’s wrong with Ñolo?”

“I don’t know…” Anairë began, only to be interrupted by Fëanor.

“Please? Lord Irmo came to me and told me Lord Námo was worried about him. Since his change, what have you noticed that causes you concern?” he asked.

Taking a breath and letting go of whatever she was holding, Anairë blurted out, “It’s his emotions. I don’t know what the ainur are, but apparently they feel things deeply. More deeply than we do. I think they are just used to it and are better able to deal with them. And for Ñolo, who always felt things deeply anyway, it has been so overwhelming for him that he’s just shutting down. I think it’s his only defense and I’m afraid I’ll lose him.”

“I’ve noticed that he seems detached. Yet he also tends to cling desperately to Arakáno.” Fëanor said, hoping for some enlightenment from his sister-in-honor.

“That has been something that came with the change. He was fine before. Yes, he felt guilt over our youngest dying. Yes, he died in Ñolo’s arms. And yes, he never quite got over that. But it was one of those things that hurts but you’re still able to go on. Fading enough over time that it doesn’t gnaw every moment of every day. Then he was changed and it came back a hundredfold. It’s been overwhelming for him and I don’t know how he still functions, honestly. Thankfully, Arakáno knows and has been good natured about it, but brother, he has his own family now and he’s had to curtail much to put up with a clingy atar until we can figure a way to sort him out.” Anairë said fretfully and it occurred to Fëanor that she’d been dealing with this alone and was feeling quite overwhelmed.

Taking her hand and patting it awkwardly, he said, “I see. Look, I’m not sure what to do yet either. But apparently Lord Irmo thought I could help and so it’s a puzzle he feels I can solve. And I promise you I will solve it.”

“Thank you, Fëanáro. Just knowing I’m not alone in my worry over him is a great relief.” and seeing Fëanor’s worried face, she added, “Oh, our family knows, but as talented as my children are, this is beyond them, as well.”

“I think this is beyond all of us. I think I was tasked because I’m just stubborn that way.” he said and surprised a laugh out of Anairë and as he left her he felt an odd sense of accomplishment in being able to bring a smile to her face.

And as strange as it would have sounded to anyone, he needed his siblings and their atar.

~0~

Rounding up his siblings had been easy. Only Arafinwë and Írimë Lalwendë were there and their pavilions were right next to each other on the Faire Grounds. Indis and Findis had stayed on the mainland and were in Valimar as one of Findis’ great granddaughters was about to give birth and they wanted to be there, rather than attend the wedding of Fëanor’s sons.

And luckily, Finwë’s pavilion was in that same general vicinity, as all in the House of Finwë were clustered around each other and centrally located. The hard part was rousing Finwë from the rigors of the previous evenings activities!

“Finish your tea, atar. I need you to be with us.” Fëanor said briskly.

“What are you so worked up about? The wedding is still two days away!” Finwë grumbled, and looking blearily about and seeing his son and daughter, added, “And why is your sister and brother here? Where’s Ñolo? Is this some sort of family meeting?”

“Yes it is. And Ñolo isn’t here because it concerns him.” Fëanor brusquely said. That got Finwë’s attention and he quickly drained his tea and impatiently beckoned for another, which Lalwen dutifully attended to.

“We’re here, brother. What is so urgent about Ñolo?” Finarfin asked, taking a seat.

“There apparently were some side-effects to his change that are destroying him.” Fëanor said bluntly.

“Isn’t that rather hyperbolic, son?”

“No. Not at all. In fact I received a visit from Lord Irmo stating just this concern. And he was sent by his brother Lord Námo who had gone to him for help in the first place.”

“Why did he come to you? Surely this is something they can manage between the two of them?” Lalwen asked, frowning. She may not like them, but she respected their power.

“I would expect the same, honestly. But he came to me and I expect the gentler approach would be for his family to intervene.”

“How? How are we to help if the Valar can’t?” Lalwen demanded, worried now.

“The only way I can think of is through our familial blood bond.” Fëanor said.

“I think we should find those maiar and talk to them.” Finarfin said.

“You think they would have more knowledge than the Valar?” Finwë asked skeptically, wide awake now and fairly close to bouncing off the walls with his tea intake.

“I think they are probably closer to what Ñolo is now. They’re different from the Valar and would at least have some insight that we lack.” Finarfin defended and was surprised when Fëanor agreed.

“I think Ara is right. They seemed to understand him very well last night and they took him with them. I’d like to know what exactly they gave him,” he said grimacing, “And why they took him.”

“Right! Let’s go!” Finwë said, bounding out of his seat, and stopped to bark, “What?!!” when his children all protested.

“Atta!” Lally said, rolling her eyes, “You need to get dressed first!”

It wasn't too difficult to find the former wizards as they, too, were sleeping it off in the woods. Olórin at the base of a large tree and Aiwendil snuggled within its branches. Calling to the maiar produced no results, besides grumbling grunts of displeasure before Fëanor kicked the sole of the booted feet of the prone form of Olórin in disgust, rousing him.

Blinking up in outrage, Olórin, bellowed, “Fëanáro Finwion! What is the meaning of this vile intrusion?”

“Oh do stop your grousing! We need to talk to you.” Fëanor said in exasperation, adding, “And your slumbering friend if he can be persuaded to join us.”

“We could always knock him out of the tree.” Lally suggested, and Fëanor grinned fiercely at her, while Finarfin was looking up thoughtfully, as if to gage how that might be accomplished. Finwë simply looked appalled at his children and wondered where he’d gone wrong.

“There now! No need for that. He becomes most disagreeable if you drop him on his head.” Olórin said, and produced a long staff from….somewhere, and proceeded to poke at his sleeping friend. Startling awake, Aiwendil rolled out of the tree’s embrace and would have had a nasty fall if the tree hadn’t caught him with its branches and gently lowered him to the ground.

“I say! What is all this about?” Aiwendil complained, and then seeing the newcomers, said, “Oh!.....Hello!” he said, blinking at them in surprise.

“Hello!” The three children of Finwë chimed back.

“Well?” Olórin quipped. And at the blank stares now being directed at him, snapped, “What do you want? You obviously had a reason to seek us out and bother us awake. So... out with it!”

“Oh! Something is wrong with Ñolo and we want you to help us fix him.” Finarfin said, and then looked at his brother who made a sound of annoyance and said, What? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Why beat around the bush.”

“I would have thought you’d have learned a bit more diplomacy whilst you were king.” Finwë said in disapproval.

“Oh, I learned all sorts of diplomacy, atar. A bunch of beating around the bush so you can dance around an issue in hopes you don’t offend someone’s sensibilities. It’s a bunch of rokkomuk and I’m not sorry to leave it behind.” Finarfin said disdainfully.

“Quite right! I approve, young ellon!” Aiwendil said, adding to Olórin, “You should have spent more time in King Thranduil’s court, brother. He barely tolerated court etiquette. You can see that clearly in his son, Prince Legolas.”

“Please! We are straying away from the topic at hand! Our brother is suffering and we need a way to fix him. And if there is no fixing him we need a way for him to be able to deal with it.” Fëanor said earnestly. Taking a breath he said, “Look, you gave him something last night that completely incapacitated him. I don’t want him like that all the time, but it did have the effect of detaching him from his emotions. Is there a way he can do that on his own?”

“I wouldn’t say it detached him….” Olórin began, but Aiwendil interrupted him.

“I would. That’s a perfect description. It doesn’t muffle, subdue or bury them. Smoking Southern Star detaches you from your emotions. Yes, it has a euphoric and tranquilizing aspect to it, but when it uncouples a person from their emotions it doesn’t mean the emotions are gone. It means the person is a disinterested bystander who can observe them without feeling the pain of them.”

“I don’t want him like that all the time. But is there a way to provide a smaller dose that gives him the same result?” Finarfin said.

“Yes! So he can analyze them dispassionately and find his own resolution to them.” Fëanor said with growing excitement and looking hopefully at Aiwendil for he seemed to be the go-to maia for this purpose.

“I see what you are saying and yes. I can distill the essence of the Cannabaceae plant and provide him with a tincture to take in his tea. I can even tweak it so it’s a slow release that will keep him in a similar but functional state for hours until his next tea time.” Aiwendil said, and then added, “I’ll get right on it.” and disappeared.

“Well it seems to me our presence wasn’t needed at all.” Finwë said almost accusingly.

“Atar, your son is in need. Surely you have some interest in seeing him well, don’t you?” Lalwen said in disapproval. As a mother this truly bothered her.

“She’s right atar. And I didn’t know that when I got you. I thought we’d need the familial bond to reach him. That’s why I insisted you come with us.” Fëanor said in exasperation.

“Oh don’t discount that, young ellon. It still might be necessary. And I happen to be the one to help you with that aspect. While my brother can provide Ñolofinwë with a temporary solution so he’s not overwhelmed by the intense emotions he’s not used to, I can teach you all to provide him comfort. So he knows he’s not alone while he comes to terms with them.”

“Shouldn’t his wife be here?” Finwë asked, feeling duly chastised by his children’s criticism.

“I’m sure that’s already what she does through their Bond. You are family but you can’t go where she already treads within his mind. What I’m going to teach you is to provide him comfort so he not only knows he isn’t alone, but you’ll be teaching him how to disengage from them because you will be giving him a passive distraction. This will train his mind in how not to dwell on them.”

“Ok, I’m game.” Lalwen said, and her male kin eagerly agreed.

“Very well. Share we find a comfortable place to begin?” he smiled. 

~0~

Feeling the matter of Fingolfin had been, if not dealt with, at least with a workable solution, Fëanor concentrated on his sons’ wedding. Having attended a family meeting with the Elvenking, who was becoming resigned to the fact he was still the Elvenking - it was either that or flat out call him Governor - that it was determined the Faire Grounds was the only appropriate place to have the ceremony since there was no way they could accommodate so many guests.

The wedding would take place in under two days time and Fëanor fretted there wouldn’t be enough time to get everything in order. But the king waved that aside, “No need to trouble yourself. My people are quite used to moving entire villages on a whim and have done so leaving nary a trace. They’ll be able to build the venue while herding your kin without them even realizing they’re being herded.”

Just then a tall ellon with russet hair appeared almost out of thin air and bowed to the king. The king crooked a finger and the ellon leaned in as the king whispered his instructions. He then straightened and bowing once more disappeared as silently as he’d appeared.

The king then smiled and said, “There now. Tis as good as done.”

“Thank you, ada. I knew you could come up with a solution.” Belegon beamed.

“That is the brilliance of our good Galion. If we didn’t have him things would go quite ill for us, I’m sure.” the king grinned.

“We always assumed it was your association with the maia that smoothed things out for you.” Fëanor said.

“Oh he was quite valuable when the dark lord was in the southern part of my forest. Nasty creature used my adar’s palace as his fortress. It moved us north and Aiwendil, who was Radagast back then, enchanted my river to keep our southern flank safe.”

“It was a barrier?” Fëanor asked.

Smiling, Thranduil said, “Of a sort. He enchanted it to cause sleep to those who touched it. If orcs tried to cross it they became incapacitated and drowned. He had to warn the wildlife, of course, and we knew better than to go near it. But it proved a very effective deterrent.”

Grimacing, Belegon said, “I wasn’t there at the time, but I was surprised to see the family when I got out of the Halls. And finding out that the spawn of Ungoliant were in the forest was unsettling.”

“Yes, your brother being poisoned by those vermin convinced your naneth that they’d all be better off here than in Ennorath. And I don’t know how Aiwendil managed it, but he was able to tell Legolas and I that Reuel had been healed of his injury. After we found a way to combat the venom, they were more of a nuisance than anything else.” Thranduil assured.

“You had the spawn of Ungoliant in your forest?” Fëanor asked, horror on his face.

“Oh, they weren’t anywhere near as deadly as their dame. But they were still very large, they were sentient and could speak and their webs killed the trees. But during the Battle Under the Trees, the orcs set fire to the forest to burn us out and it actually ended the spiders. It also had the added benefit of clearing out the diseased trees. Those that could never be saved from the evil that had corrupted them.”

“I had always assumed that the malice of the dark maia was less than his master. But from those I’ve spoken to it seems his poison stretched far deeper.”

“I was alive during the First Age and while Morgoth ultimately caused the destruction of Beleriand, I believe his acolyte merely built upon what the dark vala put into play. And at the very least, he caused the destruction of the land of Númenor.” Thranduil said, but then smiled and said, “But that is all in the past now. Now we are here and have a wedding to arrange. Aiwendil has assured me that he’ll be able to coax the flowers to be in bloom one last time before they begin their Iavas sleep and our kitchens are busily preparing for the feast that will follow the nuptials.”

“Yes and the Ambarussa were very diligent in building their marital homes and we’ve made sure they are completely stocked and have been busy moving all the girls' things there so they’ll be able to start right off in their new home.” Belegon said.

“So, it sounds as though it’s all arranged and we’ll just have to show up?” Fëanor asked.

“It seems so. I know Galion will be able to handle the rest, so we’ll just announce the precise time and then present ourselves for the ceremony.” the king smiled.

And with that they all left to enjoy themselves until the appointed time.

~The Wedding~

When Fëanor arrived at the venue with his family at sundown, he was astounded by what he saw. He didn’t know how they’d managed it, but all the Pavilions had been rearranged into neat rows around the perimeter of the vast field and the cooking stations with the sturdy pergolas all placed in an organized row off to the side. 

Up the center was a gold and silver-white pathway that was made up of tiny elanor and niphredil with dozens of floral arches of lilies, iris, eglantine, roses and the golden bells of mallos that framed the pathway so the brides would feel as though they were walking through a floral tunnel. And Fëanor didn’t know how they did it but the whole of the arches were lit with tiny twinkling lights, as were the surrounding trees and giant arch they’d decorated with long flowing swaths of silk that seemed to reflect the stars above. He would later learn that Aiwendil had coaxed the lightening bugs to put on a show for them.

On both sides of the pathway were rows upon rows of seating where family, friends and guests were seated while Celalpheth and Nerdanel were standing besides Fëanor and the Ambarussa on a raised dais. The twins looked pensive, but otherwise calm. Fëanor was sure they were talking to one another and trying to keep each other calm and he proudly noted how resplendent they looked in their crimson and gold, with the eight pointed star worn boldly on their chests. 

Maglor, Daeron, Ivárë and Timpinen were playing a pleasant background tune that would only change when the brides were ready to walk down the aisle and the tune would be one the couples had pre-chosen for just this purpose.

And just when the tension of the twins reached its zenith, the song changed and they could see their beloveds at the end of the aisle on each side of Belegon as he began to escort them down the floral path. Amrod and Amras both gasped at the vision of loveliness their ladies presented - a sentiment echoed by all those present when they beheld the brides on the arms of their very proud adar. 

Both were wearing golden silk gowns trimmed with deep emerald embroidery of delicate leafy vines with tiny yellow flowers. And their glorious locks were swept up from their faces and pulled back into a knot at the back of their heads with the long tresses falling into a curling fountain cascading down their backs. They were wearing fine golden mesh veils, dotted with tiny emeralds and secured by the circlets crafted by their betrotheds.

As they walked up the steps of the raised dais, Belegon then placed the hands of Eliadmë into the hands of Amrod and then the hands of Eiliana into the hands of Amras and then nodding his head to Fëanor, he then took his place beside Celalpheth and Nerdanel to bear witness to the ceremony.

Fëanor smiled gently, took a breath and then began the Binding Ceremony that had both Sindarin and Noldorin elements and he especially liked the part of the eternal unbroken circle of the ribbons that were burned showing the ties could never be unbound, for it gave him a chance to show off his fire-magery, much to the amusement of those there witnessing the ceremony. Nerdanel rolled her eyes for she knew he just couldn't help himself - he was what he was.

And when he pronounced them husbands and wives, he then bestowed his own blessings upon them before turning them to present them to the gathering as wedded couples to all those present. Then as those present stood to clap and cheer on the newlyweds, the Silvans pounced and began moving chairs around to place at tables that magically appeared while leaving a circular space in the center for those who wished to stand, mingle or dance.

Fëanor, who was watching as the whole transpired right before his eyes, still couldn’t believe his eyes and was most impressed with these elves and their organizational skills. Things Fëanor valued very much. And then it was party time! Food and drink began to appear. Speeches of good wishes made by the many, many brothers of both brides and grooms. More speeches by the parents of both couples and even the Elvenking gave his blessing for their infinite happiness, his lovely wife on his arm and his wine goblet raised.

It was when the King was giving his speech that Fëanor noticed his grandson, Elladan sitting at the king’s table with a breathtakingly lovely ellith who bore a striking resemblance to Queen Mirilla on his arm. And when he found Elrond, that ellon caught his eye and winked and Fëanor grinned in return, for it looked as though another wedding might be taking place soon!

And then, accompanied by their fellow minstrels, Daeron and Maglor began a special song of such beauty, it wove around about, threading its way through every leaf and blade of grass and into the very bones of those gathered.

Fëanor didn’t know what possessed him, but he went to find his brother, Fingolfin and whispered in his ear, “Join them! Add your voice to theirs!”

“I...I can’t sing! You know that!”

“Dammit Ñolo! Think! You have access to the Song! The Song! Use it! Use it to give their song form and substance! Please try.” Fëanor beseeched.

And closing his eyes, Fingolfin began lowly, more a melody than a song. A song without words that wove around that which the Bards sang and surprising himself with the richness, he gained confidence and gave it the Song Of Power that brought forth all the visions the Bards sang of. There was a gasp of wonder from all those present and the entire gathering fell silent to bear witness to this miracle playing out before their eyes and seeping into all of their senses.

When it was done there was utter silence and then a thundering applause and Fëanor hugged his brother and thanked him for the wonderful gift. And Fingolfin smiled in relief for no one knew it had been his voice that had given it form, thinking rather that it had been the bards themselves who had done so, for both were known to possess this gift.

~0~

The feast went on for the next week straight, never pausing and the Woodelves were rather impressed that these city-folk Noldo could keep up with the non-stop partying - something they were rather famous for back in Ennorath!

The couples had escaped fairly early and seamlessly unnoted, to the homes they would spend their first and forever nights in. Those feasting never missed them and only returned to their beds for a few hours respite before they arose and rejoined the festivities.

Fëanor and Nerdanel spent a pleasant first evening in the company of their in-laws, both couples pleasantly imagining the many grandchildren they all hoped for, before they too, retired with the sun-rise the next morning. After a few hours' sleep, Fëanor found his son, Celegorm and told him to let him know when he’d be leaving, for they planned to accompany him home so they could be there for the arrival of their twins. Celegorm informed his father he planned to leave the next morning as it would give him a chance to visit with his brothers and their families.

Fëanor informed his wife through their Bond and went in search of his siblings and father so he could make his own farewells to them. He’d been overjoyed to find Fingolfin delightfully present at his sons’ wedding and knew Aiwendil had come through with his tincture, if Ñolo’s dilated eyes had been any indication. But it was more his easy manner that told Fëanor the maia had come through. That and Anairë’s look of gratitude.

Fëanor found his atar once again deep within the game of chance with his fellows as well as being deep in his cups. He gave his father a quick bow and bid him farewell, while his father waved him off with a, “Yes, yes! Carry on, son.” and Fëanor decided to hold him to that should his hasty departure ever come up again.

He then found his siblings sitting together and enjoying the tomfoolery of those still celebrating and Fëanor settled himself in the seat Finarfin pulled over for him to join them. Sitting with a smile, he found he was enjoying their company and their sibling camaraderie and he was again glad to see that Fingolfin was there with them and seemed to be his old self and enjoying himself. This would also explain why Finarfin and Lally were also so relaxed and poking fun at those around them. They really were terrible! How had he never noticed that about them before?!!

“So it looks like our great grandson might be having his own binding ceremony soon.” he smiled.

“Indeed, I saw that. Apparently their attachment dates back ages. It will be good to see him settled.” Fingolfin agreed.

“So what are your plans now, brother?” Finarfin asked.

“Nerdanel and I will be traveling with Celegorm to be there when Ealanna delivers their twins.”

“I wish you joy, brother.” Lally smiled, “I wish Glorfindel would settle himself.”

“He hasn’t been home all that long, sister.” Fëanor frowned, recalling he’d come with Elrond's sons and Galadriel’s husband.

“Yes, I know. But I can still wish.” she smiled.

“I wouldn’t worry. Things seem to be settling themselves, of late. We just need to have patience.” Fingolfin said with a faraway look in his eyes. And then he refocused and said, "I want to thank all of you for your help. I know I've been a little distant lately and I appreciate your intervention." and looking at Fëanor, added, "Especially you, brother."

"You're welcome, brother. You've done so much for all of us, it would be callus not to come your aid when you needed it." Fëanor said, adding, "Though it was Ara's idea to find the maiar."

"Yes, but you're the one who got us all together. But yes, your maiar friends really came through for us when we asked them."

"Yes, they did." Lally sighed, "It kinda makes me feel bad for wanting to knock the one out of the tree."

"Well, I kicked the other one....so there's that." Fëanor grinned.

Fingolfin stared at his siblings and then burst into merry laughter, saying, "You all make it sound like I'm the one who's dangerous and crazy - and you're all the same as me. I never want to hear another word about my methods - ever again!" and the four all stacked their hands, exclaiming, "Deal!"