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Elf, Interrupted: Book One: Glorfindel Redux  by Fiondil

55: Vanda Mapaina

Laurendil and Finrod insisted on continuing Eärnur’s Sindarin lesson while they were eating, sticking to such safe subjects as pointing to objects on the table and giving their names in Sindarin or teaching him the verbs that are associated with eating.

Others at the table looked at them with expressions ranging from vaguely interested to studiously dismissive. Finrod and the others ignored them, the Noldorin ellyn and Sindarin elleth laughing at Eärnur’s pronunciation and encouraging him to try again.

It was while they were doing this that Meneldil approached them, his expression grim and humorless. Eärnur and the other apprentices and journeymen at the table rose and gave the master healer their bows. Finrod, Laurendil and Manwen remained seated.

Meneldil glowered at the three of them. "You should rise when one of the masters approaches, or don’t you know this?"

"Forgive us, Master Meneldil," Finrod said quietly, rising, as did Laurendil and Manwen. "We were unaware of the protocol. We’ve only been here a few days, after all, and not all has been explained to us."

"Yes, one day as an apprentice and you two," here Meneldil raked his gaze over both Finrod and Laurendil, "have caused quite a stir." He turned his attention to Eärnur. "I would like your report on your first session with our newest Etyangol in the morning, Journeyman." Laurendil went white at the master’s words but otherwise made no other move. "I trust this one," Meneldil continued, nodding at Finrod who merely raised an eyebrow, "acted appropriately during the session."

"Indeed, Master," Eärnur said levelly, though emphasizing both Finrod and Laurendil’s ranks as he spoke. "Prince Findaráto has done nothing inappropriate in all the time that I’ve known him. And I can give you my report on my first session with Lord Laurendil here and now... we had no session."

Meneldil looked taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"Just that, Master," Eärnur replied, keeping his tone neutrally respectful. "When I arrived at Lord Laurendil’s pavilion with Prince Findaráto, his Highness and Lord Laurendil decided I was in sore need of a lesson in Sindarin. They spent the afternoon teaching me insults in that language and I spent the afternoon happily learning them."

"Hah!" Laurendil said with a grin and Finrod sniggered.

"You were ordered to begin counseling this Etyangol," Meneldil practically growled. "Patients are not permitted to take control of their sessions. You know this. I find it very disturbing that you failed so miserably in your duties, Journeyman Eärnur. I will have no choice but to leave a note of reprimand with your tutor."

Eärnur turned white at that. Now Finrod frowned and Laurendil’s face became suffused with anger. Before either could respond, Meneldil turned on them, his features imperious.

"As for you Apprentice Findaráto, you will report to me in the morning. I fear your actions need correction. And you, Laurendil, you are slated to become an apprentice yourself, but until then you are merely a patient. I think it best you return to your pavilion. If you wish for sustenance, someone will bring you a tray."

This last was too much for either Laurendil or Finrod. Finrod started to fume. Laurendil merely laughed.

"Master Meneldil, there are only two people in Lórien who can order me from this pavilion, and neither one of them is you."

Finrod turned to his friend with a wicked smile. "Two people? I would have thought there were three."

"Oh?" was Laurendil’s only response.

Finrod nodded, quite ignoring Meneldil and everyone else in his teasing of his former ranger captain. "Well, it goes without saying that Lord Irmo is one. I, of course, am the second..."

"You!?" Meneldil interrupted in surprise. "Why you?"

"Because he is my king, and he has my life," Laurendil said flatly, and there was no levity in his posture.

"What does that mean, he has your life? What nonsense is that?" Meneldil asked in disdain.

Without a word and more quickly than any would expect, Laurendil reached for a sharp knife lying on the table and tossed it to Finrod, who deftly caught it, then calmly placed the knife at Laurendil’s throat. Everyone there gasped and Manwen went white, sinking to her seat in shock. The expression on Finrod’s face was terrible to behold and he seemed to the onlookers to have grown in stature and a fell light glowed about him. Laurendil stared calmly at Meneldil, never flinching.

"It means," he said softly, "that he has my life and may do with it as he pleases, up to and including sending me to Mandos."

"Which I wouldn’t do," Finrod said calmly as he took the knife away from Laurendil’s throat and placed it on the table, "if only because Lord Námo wouldn’t appreciate the joke when you showed up on his front doorstep."

*Don’t be so sure of that, you insolent pup,* came the surprising words to Finrod’s mind, sounding highly amused. The shocked looks of the others told him that they had heard Námo’s words as well. Finrod smiled and stuck his tongue out at no one in particular. Then all in the pavilion heard the Lord of Mandos laughing, though he did not appear. Not a few shivered and looked upon Finrod with awe, or perhaps fear.

"Friend of yours?" Laurendil asked dryly.

Finrod laughed. "You might say that."

"So who’s the third?" Eärnur suddenly asked.

"Hmm?" Finrod turned his attention to the Telerin elf and remembered what he had been saying before. "Ah, yes. Well that should be obvious." He looked pointedly at Manwen, still seated and still looking white.

"Are you well, child?" he asked her, aware that she must have been shocked by the tableau she had just witnessed. Manwen looked up at Finrod and her expression was unreadable. Then she slowly sank to her knees, her body quaking, and took one of Finrod’s hands.

"A-aran meletyalda... qui haryalyë i-cuilë vennonya, haryalyë yando cuilenya."

Laurendil started at that but a glance from Finrod stilled him. Finrod gently raised the still quaking elleth and gazed sadly into her eyes. "Child," he whispered, "you do not know what you are saying."

"Yet she says it, nonetheless, King of Nargothrond that was."

All turned at the sound of Lord Irmo’s voice. His appearance was not surprising. What was surprising was the fact that he was accompanied by Lord Námo. Even more surprising was that Lady Estë was there as well... and Lady Nienna.

Finrod looked at the Valar calmly. "I am king no longer, and do not have the authority. I will not accept her oath."

"Yet, you do not release Laurendil from his," Námo commented.

"Nor would I allow him to, my lord," Laurendil replied firmly. "And Manwen has the right to choose as she will to whom she gives her oath. I will not stay her, little though I might like it."

The Valar looked at Laurendil with something like amazement, though it was difficult for the elves to truly read their expressions. Finally, Nienna stepped forward and gestured to Manwen, who came to her, her expression one of confusion. Nienna smiled at the elleth and gently brushed a hand through her dark silver locks.

"Child, do you understand what your words bind you to? Findaráto is no longer a king, as he rightly reminds us, but he still retains the authority of one. That authority was never rescinded, neither by us nor by Eru. The oath you would swear is a dangerous one. Be very sure that you understand its implications fully." Then Nienna bent down and gave the elleth a kiss on the forehead.

"Come here, Manwen," Námo then said and Manwen found herself gazing into the eyes of the Lord of Mandos, falling into their amaranthine depths, and she felt no fear, only awe. "You have stared into the eyes of death often enough, my child, to understand this: death is not to be feared, but neither is it to be sought after. Your love for your husband and your love for Findaráto drive you to this, but love may not be enough. Be certain to the depths of your fëa that this is the way you would go." Then he bent down and kissed her on the brow. Manwen half-expected either Lord Irmo or Lady Estë to summon her before them, but they did not and she felt a twinge of disappointment.

"Manwen, come here."

She turned to see Finrod standing there, looking grim. Laurendil stood by his side and she was surprised to see him holding a knife, the same knife that Finrod had held against her husband’s throat. Finrod took her face in his hands and leaned down so that their foreheads touched. She gasped as she felt his mind caress hers and she tried to break away, but could not.

*Na quildë, yeldenya. Áva rucë! Open your mind to mine.*

Manwen did as she was bid and the intimacy of Finrod’s mental touch was beyond anything she had ever felt before, even with her husband. It was as if she stood naked before him, yet there was no sense of shame or embarrassment. She stood rapt in an emotion that was akin to joy yet held a trace of fear, for she suddenly knew herself to be vulnerable. He could do anything to her and she would allow it, indeed, welcome it, and that thought nearly drove her to deny what was happening, to flee from his mental and physical touch.

*Shh. Ávo rucë, yeldenya. Your integrity is safe with me. I will ask nothing of you that you would not willingly give in full knowledge of that giving. Your life I accept into my keeping.*

Then she felt him opening himself to her in such a way that defied description and suddenly she realized the full implication of the oath she had so naively given. Her life was indeed his, but by that same token, his life was now hers and the awesome responsibility that entailed was nearly more than she could accept, and yet she did, with fear and trembling, but with joy as well.

Then, slowly the contact between their minds diminished and she found herself alone within herself and was glad. She felt dazed and somewhat disoriented and was only dimly aware of her husband handing Finrod the knife. She was only dimly aware of Finrod taking her hand and slicing the palm, then doing the same to his own hand. She was only dimly aware of him placing her bleeding hand in his and then Laurendil was whispering words to her that she knew she must say aloud.

"By our blood mingled, our minds now one, I give thee my oath, aranya, that thou mayest have my life into thy keeping, tenn’ Ambar-metta. Valar valuvar."

Then Finrod was speaking and his voice was as ice and she shivered involuntarily.

"By our blood mingled, our minds now one, I accept your oath, Manwen vessë Laurendilo, and take your life into my keeping, tenn’ Ambar-metta. Valar valuvar."

Then for the first time Finrod smiled and the joy of it broke through her shock and she began to weep, falling into his embrace. "Oh, Valar, forgive me. What have I done?"

She felt, rather than saw, someone approach and then she was gathered into another’s embrace. Still weeping, she looked up into the calm eyes of Lady Nienna. "Hush now, child. What’s done is done. Do not weep. It will be well."

Then Laurendil was lifting her into his arms and she heard Finrod say compassionately, "Be gentle with her, Laurendil. She is precious to me, as are you, my son." There was a timbre to the Elf-lord’s voice that held the echo of Another and the other elves there felt a tremor run through their fëar, though they little understood its source.

Laurendil did not reply but took his wife from the pavilion and none stayed him. Then in the ensuing silence Lord Irmo spoke.

"Meneldil, Laurendil and Manwen are under my protection, and Findaráto I claim for myself. Eärnur, come to me in the morning. I think your duties will be changing. I rather like the idea of you learning Sindarin, if you have no objections."

Eärnur shook his head. "Nay, lord, I do not. Thank you."

"Good. Good. Now we will leave you, my children. Remember what you have witnessed here, all of you."

"But, what is it we have witnessed, lord?" Meneldil asked, sounding angry and confused at one and the same time.

But it was Lord Námo who answered, his expression grave beyond enduring and many had to look elsewhere. "You have witnessed the giving and taking of an oath between vassal and lord, one that should never be entered lightly by either party, for it will remain binding until Arda is Remade. Not even death can sever it or make it void."

Then he turned to Finrod who stood there looking sad and doubtful and his expression softened. "Do not fret, my son. It was well done."

"She understands not what she has done and when she does..."

"When she does, she will have Laurendil beside her to help her through it." Irmo said.

Finrod looked at the Lord of Lórien and there was a slight quirk in his smile. "I fear I have deprived you of a valuable apprentice, my lord, for which I humbly apologize."

"Oh, Manwen isn’t going anywhere," Irmo said blithely. "She is still mine and will continue to be so, just as Laurendil is mine, though he is also yours, and just as you are mine, if memory serves." He gave Finrod a wry smile.

The former King of Nargothrond smiled back, looking less grim. "Valar valuvar."

"Oh, of that, you may have no doubt, my son." Irmo said with a light laugh.

Estë, who had remained silent throughout, then came to Finrod and gave him a kiss on the brow, whispering something in his ear that only he heard. The onlookers saw Finrod’s eyes widen at whatever the Valië said to him and he nodded to her. Then all four Valar were gone, leaving the elves alone.

Without a backward glance, Finrod left the pavilion and none followed. Where he spent the night, no one knew, save for the Valar, two Maiar, who watched over him by Námo’s command, and one delighted oak tree deep in the heart of Estë’s island.

****

Vanda Mapaina: An Oath Taken.

Aran meletyalda, qui haryalyë i-cuilë vennonya, haryalyë yando cuilenya: "Your Majesty, if you have my husband’s life, you have also my life."

Na quilde, yeldenya. Áva rucë!: "Be still, my daughter. Do not fear!"

Tenn’ Ambar-metta. Valar valuvar: "Until World’s end. The will of the Valar will be done."

Manwen vessë Laurendilo: Manwen wife of Laurendil.





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