61: Family Ties

In the end, the masters from Tirion admitted defeat and decided it was not worth remaining on Tol Eressëa. When Netilmírë informed the Sindarin masters she thought she detected a flash of triumph on at least one of their faces, but it was quickly gone and perhaps she only imagined it. Sador decided that he wished to remain on the island to investigate further, especially when a missive from Arafinwë informed him that Finrod and Glorfindel had departed Tirion on missions of their own. Netilmírë insisted on staying with him.

"Technically, you’re an adult," she had said, "but I think you will agree that as your guildmaster, I hold ultimate responsibility for you and your actions. Someone has to be here to haul you out of trouble."

Sador had laughed at that and raised no objections. In truth, he was glad his mistress had not gone back to Tirion.

"I think I would like to see if I can learn anything about my family," Sador confided to Netilmírë as they sat in the common room of the inn. They had seen the other Noldorin guildmasters on their way earlier and were enjoying a glass of wine after their dinner. "I am hoping someone will have news of them, whether they still live or not."

Netilmírë felt a sudden pang in the depths of her heart as she remembered that she, too, had family that were missing. She often wondered if daughter and husband were even now keeping each other company in Mandos.

"I would like to find out what my daughter’s fate was. I wonder how one goes about asking?" she mused half to herself.

"What was her name?"

"Ezelmiril."

"Hmm," Sador pondered. "It is unlikely that she would have kept that name. The Noldor adopted Sindarin names or were given them by others. Lady Galadriel, for instance was given her name by Lord Celeborn whom she married. I think you might know her better as Lady Artanis," Sador added when Netilmírë gave him an enquiring look.

She raised an eyebrow at that revelation, and wondered why she was surprised. After all, Prince Findaráto had changed his name to Finrod and seemed to prefer it to his Quenya name.

"So what would ‘Ezelmiril’ translate into in Sindarin?" she asked and Sador shrugged.

"I do not know what it means."

"Ah, well ‘ezel’ is taken from the language of the Valar and means the same as ‘laiqua’. You will only hear it being used by the Vanyar. My husband comes from them."

"Well, in Sindarin there are two words that mean ‘green’. One is rarely used anymore, the other being more common."

"And they are?" Netilmírë asked in amusement.

Sador blushed. "Oh, sorry. ‘Laeg’ is the word that we don’t use. It’s more a poetical word, although I understand it’s more common among the Silvan elves. The more common word is ‘calen’. I think ‘miril’ might be translated into..."

He stopped, and there was a stunned expression on his face as he stared at Netilmírë. The guild mistress looked on her apprentice with concern.

"Sador, what’s wrong?"

Sador could only shake his head and then he was standing and racing for the door. "Sador! wait, please. What’s wrong?"

Netilmírë stood up and followed the ellon out, ignoring the surprised looks on the other patrons’ faces. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness outside as she looked to see where Sador had gone. He had not fled far, she was happy to see. He stood on the other side of the courtyard fronting the inn where a small fountain played softly. She approached him carefully, not sure what had happened and afraid that any sudden moves would cause him to flee again.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sador," she said softly, "Please, yonya, tell me what’s wrong."

Sador did not speak. Indeed he could not. His chest felt tight and his skin burned and he had this need to scream, but all that came out was a slight whimper and then he was collapsing into Netilmírë’s arms, weeping.

"Oh, Sador," Netilmírë crooned softly. "Please child, tell me what troubles you."

"S-she changed her name to C-calemmíriel," he stammered through his tears.

"Who did, Sador?" Netilmírë asked in confusion, not sure what the ellon was talking about. "Who changed her name?"

Sador pulled himself out of Netilmírë’s embrace and looked at her, his eyes glowing with something indefinable. "Ezelmiril. She changed her name to Calemmíriel."

Netilmírë felt the earth tilt. "How do you know this?" she whispered.

"Because Calemmíriel is my anamillë."

Netilmírë never felt Sador catch her as she crumpled to the ground.

****

She woke to find herself still in the courtyard with Sador holding her head in his lap. He had a goblet in his hand. "Can you sit up? I have some water. It should help."

She nodded weakly, not trusting herself to speak and with his help was able to sit up enough to sip from the goblet. She did not attempt to hold the goblet herself, content to let Sador do all the work. When she had her fill, he gently lowered her to his lap again.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you like that."

"Do not concern yourself, youngster," she croaked. "I am well."

Sador smiled thinly. "Not from where I’m sitting. Come, let me help you up."

Soon they were both standing and Sador was leading her back into the inn. The other patrons pretended not to notice them. Sador led her back to their table. For a long moment, neither spoke. Netilmírë stared at nothing in particular. Then she turned to the one who was her great-grandson.

"Is she alive?"

Sador shook his head. "She did not make it out of Doriath. Neither did anatar."

Netilmírë closed her eyes, tears beginning to form. "Who is your anatar?" she finally asked. Her daughter was lost to her, as was her husband, but she had her great-grandson beside her, and that was more than she had had for a very long time.

"His name is Mallor. He’s a Sinda and was a member of Prince Celeborn’s retinue in Doriath. That’s how they met."

"What do you mean?"

"Anamillë was one of Lady Galadriel’s ladies-in-waiting and often traveled with her between Doriath and Nargothrond."

Netilmírë was confused. "Wait. I do not understand. My daughter was a lady-in-waiting to Lady Artanis? How can that be? She was naught but a potter’s apprentice."

Sador shrugged. "Perhaps that was true here in Aman, but many of the Noldor who fled to Beleriand carved for themselves new lives and new identities. I never heard the entire story, mind you, but apparently anamillë did some kind of service to Lady Galadriel during the Crossing of the Grinding Ice and as a result she was rewarded by being asked to become one of Lady Galadriel’s ladies-in-waiting. Obviously, when she and Lord Celeborn began to keep company together, Calemmíriel and Mallor had a chance to meet and know one another."

Netilmírë thought about that for a bit. Apparently the old social structures that the elves knew here in Aman ceased to exist among the Exiles. She had heard about the Grinding Ice and shuddered to think her beloved child had had to suffer through such hardship. Yet, in the end she had apparently found love and a purpose.

"You said your atar was a potter?"

Sador nodded, smiling. "Yes, atar took up the trade that apparently anamillë had abandoned. She was his first teacher, I’ve been told, when he began to exhibit an interest in the craft. Lord Celeborn actually found him a suitable master to study under."

"What is your atar’s name?"

"Bronweg and my amillë is named Rían. My sister’s name is Ninniach, which has the same meaning as Helyanwë."

"Bronweg..." she said, testing the name out.

Sador looked at the person who was both his guild mistress and great-grandmother and smiled. "I’ve been told he was named after his anatar."

Netilmírë gasped. "Voronwë." Then she stared hard at the ellon beside her trying to find any trace of her daughter in him, but she could not see anything of Ezelmiril in him, especially with his silvery hair which was obviously inherited from his Sindarin father, though it was several shades darker than the norm. Tears began to form and she had to look away.

"I’m sorry. I was hoping to see my daughter in you, but..."

Sador placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Everyone says that I look more like my anatar."

"Why didn’t Lord Irmo release you into my custody?" she asked. "Why the charade?"

Sador shrugged. "I don’t know, Mistress..."

"Shh. None of that, Inyonya," Netilmirë said. "We are family. You must call me Anammë as is only right."

Sador nodded shyly. "Anammë."

She smiled and then she opened her arms and welcomed him into her embrace. "I have lost both husband and daughter," she whispered, "but I have gained a great-grandson, whom I love very much." She kissed him and hugged him fiercely before letting him go.

Sador looked at his anammë in wonder. "I can’t believe that all this time... and I never suspected."

"The Valar are a devious bunch, aren’t they?" she said with a wry grin and soon the two of them were laughing heartily.

****

Later that evening, after Sador had retired, Netilmírë found herself feeling restless and wandered out to the courtyard to look at the stars and think. She still found it hard to believe that all these weeks she had had her great-grandson in her company and never knew it.

"Do you like our little surprise?"

Netilmírë turned with a gasp to find herself gazing into the amused expressions of Lord Aulë and Lady Yavanna.

"You knew all along," she said and then silently berated herself. Of course they would know. The question was, why?

"Would you have accepted him as your great-grandson from the beginning?" Yavanna asked quietly.

"Would you have even believed us had we told you of his existence?" Aulë added. 

She started to protest, but then stopped, realizing the truth of their words and blushed in shame. "I’ve been so bitter. I would have rejected him from the beginning."

Aulë nodded. "Yes. We knew that would be your reaction, so we decided to circumvent it by approaching the subject sideways, you might say." He laughed lightly at her expression. "It’s all right, daughter. No one blames you. You needed time to come to terms with what had happened. We gave you that time and the opportunity to get to know young Sador without the burden of blood ties to influence you."

"I’ve been so stupid..."

"Hush now," Yavanna admonished her, giving her a quick hug. "None of that. What’s past is past. The important thing is that you’ve found one another."

"My grandson... Sador’s sister... are they....?"

Aulë shook his head. "We will not tell you. Be content that you and Sador have each other. Someday the other members of your family will join you, but until then..."

Netilmírë nodded, not really surprised by the Vala’s answer. She had actually asked for Sador’s sake, knowing how much he missed his family and wondered about their fate, especially the sister he had died defending.

Aulë smiled at her gently and took her into his embrace and kissed her on the brow. "Sador will do well enough, daughter. He has survived many hardships and heartaches and is the stronger for it. Do not fear for him."

"Now, we must leave you, child," Yavanna said, offering Netilmírë her own kiss. "Treat your great-grandson gently and all will be well. He is as precious to us as you are."

Then they were gone and Netilmírë found herself alone with the stars as company once again.

****

"...and she’s my anammë, can you believe it?" Sador said, a delighted smile on his face.

He was lying in his bed, clutching his stuffed toy to himself, while Lord Námo sat on the edge grinning at the eagerness in which the ellon had told him his news, quite forgetting that the Lord of Mandos would have known about it all along.

"Are you happy, best beloved, now that you’ve found your anammë?"

Sador nodded. "But why did no one tell us... me? Didn’t you want me to know my anammë?"

Námo shook his head, gently running a hand through Sador's hair. "We wanted nothing more than to have the two of you be a family, but Netilmírë was not ready to accept a great-grandson she had never met before. We decided to give you both time to know each other first."

Sador looked pensive. "M-my family... did they...?"

Námo put a finger to Sador’s lips. "You know I will not tell you. You must have faith that when the time is right you will all be reunited."

Sador nodded, looking somewhat downcast, but then his eyes lit up with wonder again. "She’s my anammë... she’s my anammë." He hugged himself with glee and with a gentle laugh Lord Námo gathered the ellon into his arms and gave him a kiss.

"Yes, she is, indeed."

****

Ezel/Laiqua: Green. Laiqua is found in older sources of Tolkien's works and is more properly Qenya, while later sources have laica. I use the earlier form here to indicate that the Quenya of Aman has retained older forms that changed in the Quenya spoken in Middle-earth by the Exiles.

Calemmíriel: (Sindarin) calen "green" + mîr "shining jewel" with assimilation + -iel "female suffix".

Helyanwë: (Quenya) Rainbow.

Inyonya: (Quenya): My grandson. Netilmírë is using the word to mean "descendant".

Anammë: (Quenya) Grandmother, using an alternate form of amillë. Great-grandmother would most likely be alatanammë, but this is awkward and in informal situations the elves would probably use some version of "grandmother" instead, much as humans do.

Sador’s Family Tree in Middle-earth:

Ezelmiril (Calemmíriel) m. Mallor of Doriath