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Elf, Interrupted: Book One: Glorfindel Redux  by Fiondil

80: Once Again to Lórien

Finrod and his party reached Lórien well after sunset on the third day from Valmar. As late as the hour was, Lord Irmo was waiting for them along with several Lóriennildi. The Lord of Lórien gave them all a warm greeting.

"Lord Aldundil, Lady Calalindalë, welcome to Lórien," the Vala said. "I trust that your stay here will be pleasant and fruitful. My people have arranged a pavilion for you."

Aldundil and Calalindalë bowed to the Vala and thanked him. Several Lóriennildi led them away after Finrod assured Aldundil that he was to take the next several days to acquaint himself with Lórien.

"I will send for you when I need you," Finrod said in dismissal.

Irmo then turned to Ingwion with a gentle smile. "Prince Ingwion, I know you are not happy to be here but I assure you that spending some time with Nienna is not the punishment you think it is. Rest here for the night and tomorrow my people will escort you to Nienna’s house. Fear not! I have been told that you will return to Vanyamar by the New Year."

Ingwion bowed but said nothing. In a short while he made his good-byes to Finrod and Laurendil, for they would not see him before he left Lórien and then he, too, was led away.

Irmo then looked upon Laurendil with something like amusement. "I understand, my son," Irmo said with a glint in his eyes, "that your wife has been spending the entire day preparing for your return. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste too much time making her wait."

Laurendil blushed and Finrod laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Go, gwador. I may be your king and have your life in my keeping but Manwen is your wife and she ranks me, at least in this much."

If possible Laurendil blushed even more deeply but did not offer any protest. With a hasty bow he set off towards his pavilion, only to be stopped by Finrod calling out to him.

"And if I see your face anytime before three days from now, I will have to be very angry with you, my son."

Laurendil grinned at that and gave Finrod a more formal bow. "Be iest lîn, aran nîn."

Finrod merely laughed, turning back to Irmo, who stood there with an indulgent smile on his face.

"Vorondil will stay with me for the time being," Finrod said and Irmo nodded.

"As I suspected. We do have one problem though. It seems that my brother, in his infinite wisdom, has decided to release an entire contingent of Reborn all at once, and we are presently short on beds." He gave Vorondil a sympathetic look. "I’m afraid, my son, that you will have to sleep on the ground until such time as we have a bed for you. I have my people making new ones even now but it may be a day or two before we have one ready for you. I hope you don’t mind."

Vorondil merely shook his head, trying not to show any anger. What was he going to say, anyway? He was a thrall, after all. It wasn’t as if his feelings mattered anymore. Finrod gave him a shrewd look but did not say anything to him. Instead he turned to Irmo with a wry grin.

"The timing does seem rather... suspect, wouldn’t you say?"

Irmo actually snorted. "Personally, I think it’s a conspiracy perpetrated by my fellow Valar. Sometimes I feel like a glorified innkeeper trying to find beds for all his guests."

Finrod laughed at that and even Vorondil found himself grinning in spite of himself. "Well, I guess there’s no help for it. By your leave, my lord, we will retire." Finrod bowed and Vorondil remembered to do the same.

"We will speak later," Irmo said with a nod and gestured for the remaining Lóriennildi to take the ellyn’s bags.

In short order Finrod and Vorondil were alone in the pavilion. There was only the one cot and on the floor beside it was a pile of furs and blankets. They were soon lying down, but Vorondil had difficulty falling asleep. He did not really believe that there were no beds to be had, and suspected that this was just a means of showing him he was just a thrall and didn’t deserve to be treated like a real person. The thought brought tears to his eyes and he tried desperately not to weep. Unfortunately, the harder he tried to stop the tears from coming the more they did and he found himself sniffling into his pillow, hoping Finrod wouldn’t hear.

That hope was doomed, for Vorondil heard Finrod sigh and rise from his bed. The ellon went perfectly still, wondering what punishment his... master was about to give him for disturbing his rest. He tensed in anticipation of pain and closed his eyes.

"I don’t know why you should have all the fun," Finrod said softly as he plopped a pile of blankets onto the floor next to Vorondil.

The statement so surprised him that Vorondil turned around to see Finrod standing there with a wry smile. "F-fun?"

The Noldorin prince knelt down and wiped the tears from Vorondil’s cheeks with a gentle hand. "I always enjoyed camping out, especially when not being pursued by orcs."

"Orcs?" Vorondil echoed, too stunned to say anything more coherent.

Finrod nodded, throwing a blanket over himself and getting comfortable. "Hmm. Yes, orcs. I can’t begin to tell you how many mudholes I slept in while hunting orcs... or fleeing from them. Now, do you think Lord Irmo would be terribly upset if we made a hole in the pavilion so we can see the stars or should we just move everything outside?"

Vorondil did not know what to say. In fact, he half suspected that this was just a trick on Finrod’s part to lull him into a sense of false security before turning on him, but somehow he couldn’t quite see that happening. Still, he was at a loss as to what to do or say at this juncture. Finrod saved him the trouble by reaching over and taking him into his arms and settling him there.

"Shall I tell you a story?" Finrod asked quietly. "There’s no campfire, but we can still tell tales and sing songs just like it was a real camping trip."

"I-I’ve never been camping," Vorondil confessed hesitantly.

"Never?" Finrod said in surprise. "Well, we’ll just have to remedy that, won’t we? We’ll rope in Laurendil. He just loves going camping, especially when it’s raining orcs and balrogs."

Vorondil looked up at Finrod in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely," Finrod answered with a laugh. "Now, what story would you like to hear?"

Vorondil shrugged, still unsure what was happening. The last thing he expected was for Finrod to treat him more like a younger brother than a thrall and he was not quite ready to accept the prince’s attempts at friendship.

"Would you like me to tell you how I found the Atani?" Finrod finally asked.

Vorondil gave him a surprised look. "Wh-what are they like?" he asked in genuine curiosity.

Finrod smiled. "When I first saw them I thought they were a rather strange group of orcs, but then I heard them singing...."

Vorondil was fast asleep before Finrod even got halfway through his tale.

****

Something ticklish woke him. Vorondil tried to focus his eyes to see what it was and found Finrod staring down at him with a smile. "Time to wake up. We have a guest." The prince’s eyes traveled to the right and up and Vorondil followed them to find himself staring at a rather amused looking Maia standing above them.

"Heeek!" Vorondil grabbed the blankets and threw them over him. Finrod just laughed and pulled them back down.

"None of that, my dear. We don’t want him to think we’re rude, after all."

The Maia spoke. "Lord Irmo bids you good morning and hopes that you will join him for breakfast. Oh, and you’re to bring your thrall with you."

Finrod’s expression went cold as he stood up and Vorondil was surprised to see the Maia take a step back. "His name is Vorondil," the Noldorin prince said quietly but with much authority. "Thrall he may be, but you will speak of him, and to him, with the same respect you would accord to any of the Eruhíni."

The Maia bowed at that, but offered no apology, merely fading away. Finrod shook his head and looked down at Vorondil, who lay there unsure how to respond to what had just happened. "Let’s go find the bathing pool. I don’t think it wise to keep Lord Irmo waiting."

****

They returned from their baths to dress and found that in their absence a second cot had been put in the pavilion and the blankets and furs that had been on the floor properly stored away. Finrod gave Vorondil a wry grin. "Sometimes it’s good to be king."

Vorondil actually laughed at that and Finrod was glad, for it was genuine laughter. Vorondil had a long way to go before he could be considered ‘rehabilitated’ but he was making a good start.

"Come. Let us go find Lord Irmo," he said once they were dressed and the two ellyn made their way to a particular grove where the Lord of Lórien waited for them.

****

Lord Irmo was sitting at a table laden with food when Finrod and Vorondil entered the grove. He looked up with a smile and gestured for the two ellyn to sit after they gave him their obeisance. "I trust you both slept well?" he asked.

They nodded and Finrod spoke for them both. "We went camping, but there was no campfire so we didn’t stay up late."

"I see," Irmo said with a knowing smile. "Please help yourselves. If there is something you wish and do not see let me know." However, it appeared that the Lord of Lórien knew their favorite breakfast dishes and soon the two elves were eating with great delight. There was little conversation at first, but eventually the ellyn slowed down enough to take their attentions off their plates and give them to Lord Irmo who all this while had watched them eat with faint amusement.

"You’ve complicated things for yourself, my son... and for us," Irmo said to Finrod, flicking a quick glance at Vorondil. "Taking Aldundil’s oath... that was not what we had planned."

"We, my lord?" Finrod asked curiously. Vorondil looked on the two of them with something like fear, knowing that whatever the dispute meant, he must be at the heart of it.

"We," Irmo repeated firmly, and the elves had no doubt whom he meant.

Finrod’s expression darkened somewhat. "I was not aware that I needed anyone’s permission to act as my conscience dictates... or as Eru wills."

Irmo raised an eyebrow at that. "And now you have a thrall..."

Finrod stole a quick glance at Vorondil who was trying not to be noticed by either of them. He placed a hand on the ellon’s back and began rubbing it to comfort him before turning his attention to Lord Irmo. "What I have is someone who made a mistake and will spend the next thirty years making amends. His status is my concern and mine alone. In the meantime he will be treated with all the respect any Child of Ilúvatar deserves. I will accept nothing less from anyone, least of all the Valar and the Maiar, who should know better."

Vorondil gave an involuntary gasp at Finrod’s words, his eyes widening in shock at the way the prince had spoken to the Vala and wondered if they would both be punished for such temerity. For several minutes no one spoke, then Irmo bowed his head. "I apologize on behalf of my people, Prince Findaráto. It will not happen again."

Finrod nodded. "And I apologize, as well, my lord. I know that what I did was... precipitous, to say the least, but there were lives at stake, lives I was not willing to see destroyed out of pique."

Vorondil paled, understanding that Finrod was speaking about him. Irmo glanced at him with a sympathetic smile. "You are correct, my son," he said, turning back to Finrod. "Such considerations cannot be easily discounted, but what exactly are we to do with you, young Vorondil, heh?"

Vorondil was wishing the ground would just open up and swallow him. He didn’t know what to say and was afraid to say anything. Finrod saved him the trouble. "For the moment he will follow me or Laurendil on our rounds and we will begin teaching him Sindarin. When he is proficient enough he will tend to the Reborn on his own, though I will continue to supervise his progress. Although he will not be formally admitted as an apprentice and will not wear a tabard, he will for all intents and purposes act as one and will attend the necessary lectures. Laurendil, Manwen and I will see to anything else that he needs to know. When his thirty years of service are up and he has proven himself to me to my satisfaction, he will be free to leave Lórien and take up whatever life he desires. I will not dictate the rest of his life for him, only these next thirty years. He will not leave Lórien save as I give him leave to do so and then only in the company of either myself or Laurendil or possibly his parents, but I withhold judgment on that for now. When he is not on duty or if I do not require his attendance he is free to pursue whatever activities he wishes. He is not to be bullied or otherwise treated disrespectfully by anyone."

Irmo raised an eyebrow and gave Finrod a knowing look. "You’ve thought it all out, haven’t you?"

Finrod smiled thinly. "Well, I had three days to think about it on the way here."

Irmo nodded and looked at Vorondil, giving the ellon a penetrating gaze. Vorondil tried not to squirm. "Do you understand the conditions which Lord Findaráto has dictated just now, child?"

Vorondil nodded. "Yes, my lord," he said faintly. "I-I’m to do whatever m-my... master tells me."

Irmo sighed and Vorondil wondered if he had somehow given the Vala a wrong answer, but neither he nor Finrod looked angry. Finrod placed a hand on the back of Vorondil’s head and made him lean forward so as to plant a kiss on his forehead.

"That will do for now, hinya," he said softly and the obvious love that Vorondil sensed from Finrod brought tears to his eyes and he found himself weeping.

"I-I’m s-sorry... I’m sorry," he cried and Finrod rocked him gently.

"I’m glad to finally hear you say that, child," he said. "It gives me hope for you."

****

Later, when Vorondil had calmed down, they took their leave of Lord Irmo. Finrod went in search of Eärnur and introduced him to Vorondil. The Telerin journeyman greeted the younger ellon with a wide grin.

"Oh, good. Someone whose Sindarin is even worse than mine," he said when Finrod explained that Vorondil would be taking Sindarin lessons in preparation for tending to the Reborn Sindar.

Vorondil gave the Teler a puzzled look. "But I don’t speak any Sindarin."

"Exactly!" Eärnur said and laughed. Finrod joined him.

"Perhaps you would care to offer Vorondil his first lesson," he said once he had gotten himself under control. "I needs must attend to other matters and would leave Vorondil in your capable hands. Perhaps you can also give him a tour and show him what his duties might be."

Eärnur bowed. "It would be my honor, my lord. Come, Vorondil. We can start at Lórellin and work our way back to the dining pavilion in time for lunch."

Vorondil looked at Finrod who gave him a nod. "And Eärnur," the Noldorin prince said with a knowing smile, "keep the language lesson clean. Vorondil’s still underage."

Eärnur feigned a scowl. "Oh bother, and I was so looking forward to teaching him all the insulting words so he can try them on you."

Finrod just laughed as he walked away. Vorondil gave the Teler a dubious look. Eärnur winked and began walking in the opposite direction. Vorondil quickly joined him. As the two of them strolled towards the lake, Vorondil decided that, as circumscribed as his life might be for now, it was not likely to be dull.

****

Be iest lîn, aran nîn: (Sindarin) "As you wish, my king".

Eruhíni: (Quenya): Children of Eru.





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