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Elf, Interrupted: Book One: Glorfindel Redux  by Fiondil

88: The Worth of Butterflies

As soon as Sador returned to Tirion, he kissed Eärwen and Amarië in greeting then practically ran all the way to Netilmírë’s workshop to find her and tell her all about his adventures. Netilmírë found herself being lifted off the ground and whirled about as Sador hugged her, finally putting her down only when she laughingly protested that he was making her dizzy.

"It’s good to see you, too, inyonya," she said between gasps as her great-grandson helped her to a bench in the workshop where she sat to catch her breath. She smiled at him and gave him her own more decorous, though no less heartfelt, hug. "Now, go make me some tea and then tell me all about it."

It took some time, of course, and Sador didn’t always tell things in strict chronological order in his excitement to tell her everything at once. Netilmírë was suddenly reminded of her daughter as an elfling trying to tell her and Voronwë a story. Her inability to tell one from beginning to end, but skipping all over the place, appeared to be an inherited trait. She smiled and gave the ellon another hug.

"It must have been very frightening for you, inyonya, to be in Lord Oromë’s presence," she finally said, having gleaned that much from the ellon’s tale. "I know he rarely invites any of the Eldar to his Hunts. That he allowed you to participate shows that he finds you exceptional even for one of us."

Sador nodded, looking suddenly shy and embarrassed. "Finrod and Atar say the same thing, but I... I don’t think I’m that exceptional."

Netilmírë brushed her hand through the ellon’s hair and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I do, best beloved." Sador blushed but looked pleased nonetheless.

Later, when he had returned to the palace, Arafinwë summoned him to his study. The Noldóran smiled as the ellon came in.

"Did you have a good visit with your anammë, yonya?"

Sador nodded with a shy smile. "I still can’t get used to the idea that she’s... and Lord Námo never told me!"

Arafinwë had to laugh at the ellon’s affronted tone. "I think the Valar enjoy surprising us every once in a while."

"I wasn’t surprised... I was floored!"

Arafinwë laughed even harder at that and Sador found himself joining him. "Well, come and sit and we will talk," the King said once they had calmed down. "I wish to discuss your trip to Tol Eressëa."

Sador went immediately still and began fingering his one remaining braid. Arafinwë nodded knowingly. "You still have nightmares, don’t you?"

"How did..."

"I haven’t raised four children of my own without recognizing the signs, Sador," Arafinwë said quietly and Sador paled somewhat at that. Arafinwë leaned over and patted him on the knee. "I will not press, but I do want you to know that I am here, as are Eärwen and Netilmírë, if you need us. Don’t think you have to do this alone, hinya."

"I... I wasn’t really frightened until I saw... he was going to cut off my ear... and... if the Maia hadn’t come, I might... I might...."

Arafinwë rose and took the ellon into his arms and held him tightly, rocking him gently and crooning something soft and comforting, though he spoke no real words. Sador wept and once started could not seem to stop. He clung to Arafinwë as to a lifeline but eventually his sobbing lessened and the tears slowed. He felt at peace, floating gently in an ocean of love as Arafinwë continued holding him. So quiet had it become that Sador felt himself almost falling asleep. He sighed deeply and cuddled closer into Arafinwë’s arms, enjoying the feeling of being ‘safe’. Eventually, though, he came back to himself and stepped out of Arafinwë’s embrace. His atar smiled at him.

"Feeling better?"

Sador nodded and Arafinwë kissed him on the top of his head before releasing him entirely. "Ingwë and I will be having further discussions about what is happening on Tol Eressëa," he said as they resumed their seats. He poured out some wine for them both. "I also plan to speak to Olwë about it as well. We need to address what is happening, what has happened. Too long have we of Aman ignored our brethren, consigning them to further exile by our indifference and neglect."

"I liked it there," Sador said quietly, staring at his goblet of wine, so he did not see Arafinwë’s expression. "As soon as I heard Sindarin being spoken all around me it was as if a great weight had lifted from my shoulders. I hadn’t realized until then what a strain it is, thinking in a language that isn’t my own."

"I know it’s been a difficult adjustment for you, yonya," Arafinwë acknowledged. "More so than for Glorfindel or even Findaráto. I think you’ve done remarkably well in the short time you’ve been here." He grinned. "So, did you like my little gift?"

Sador looked up for a moment, then blushed, murmuring a soft ‘thank you’ as he cast his eyes back down in embarrassment. Arafinwë nodded but did not pursue it any further. "I’m glad," he said gently. "It belonged to my daughter when she was an elfling."

Sador looked up again in wonder. "L-lady Galadriel?"

Arafinwë nodded. "I don’t think she will mind if you... borrow it for a while."

Sador hugged himself mentally. He had something that belonged to the Lady! He had never seen her, or her lord, but they had always been in the background of his life, first in Doriath, and then at the Havens. Their presence had always been felt even if not seen. He idly wished he could share the toy with his little sister, but at that thought he knew with sudden clarity that, if she were still alive, she would be older than he now. That revelation unnerved him and he stood up and ran out into the garden. Arafinwë, not understanding the cause of the ellon’s flight, followed him in alarm, finally catching up with him by one of the fountains where Sador had collapsed in tears.

"Yonya, whatever is the matter?" he asked and gathered Sador into his arms to try to comfort him, though the younger elf just wept the harder.

"Sh-she’s older than I am now... if... if she’s even a-alive," he stammered through his tears.

Arafinwë sighed and silently cursed Lord Námo for... well, he wasn’t quite sure what he should blame the Lord of Mandos for, though being the cause of Sador’s misery might be a good start. Sador needed answers and no one would give them to him. Arafinwë ached for the child in his arms. Lord Námo apparently was willing to allow the ellon to suffer in misery with the not knowing. How was this near-elfling to move on if he could not let go of the past for fear of losing even the little of his family that he had in memory?

Even as he was reflecting on these things he felt a shimmer in the air that always bespoke of one of the Valar making their presence known. He half expected Lord Námo to appear and was mildly surprised (and even disappointed) when he didn’t. Instead, before him stood one he never thought to see in his own gardens smiling at him with deep radiance.

He bowed as well as he could, considering that he still had a weeping ellon in his arms. "Lady, you honor us with your presence."

"And you were hoping for more prestigious company, weren’t you Pityahúnya?" Vána replied with a laugh, her hazel eyes dancing with mirth at the elf’s obvious discomfort. She was dressed simply in a spring green linen gown with only the barest amount of embroidery upon the hem. A wreath of niphredil and elanor entwined graced her auburn locks. Her feet were bare.

Taking Sador from Arafinwë, Vána cradled his head between her breasts. Sador had in the meantime stilled his weeping as the presence of the Valië impacted upon his consciousness. She looked down at him and gave him a kiss on the top of his head.

"Greetings, child. I am Vána, Oromë’s lady. You must not weep so, my beloved. All is well, truly. You must be patient. Everything happens for a reason." Then she looked at Arafinwë, her demeanor more sober, but the mirth still lingered in her eyes. "And you, Pityahuan, should know better, should you not?"

Arafinwë bowed again. "As you say, Lady," he replied respectfully.

Vána gave the Noldóran a knowing look. "Do not be angry at my brother, Arafinwë. Námo is as grieved as you that this child is bereft, but knowledge is a dangerous thing sometimes and it is best that Sador not know his family’s fate."

"B-but it’s MY family!" Sador practically shouted, pulling himself out of Vána’s embrace and facing her with anger. "Mine! I have a right to know what happened to them."

"No, child..."

"I DIED FOR THEM! That gives me the right!" He moved away, evading Arafinwë’s attempt to stop him. "I hate you, I hate all of you," he said in a hoarse whisper as he ran further into the garden, heedless of his path or the hurt in Arafinwë’s eyes.

Vána placed a hand on Arafinwë’s arm. "Do not be downcast, beloved. He speaks words he does not believe, in careless anger and hurt. It is we whom he hates at this moment, not you."

Arafinwë shook his head. "I don’t think he hates even the Valar, Lady. I think he hates the not knowing more and there is nothing any of us can do to help him."

Vána smiled then. "Of course there is, Arafinwë. Why do you think I’m here? My lord looks kindly upon the child and wishes to assuage his grief, if that is possible."

"Only by telling him the truth can that happen, I fear, Lady," Arafinwë countered.

Now Vána’s expression darkened to something undefinable. "He doesn’t want truth, Arafinwë, do you not yet see that?"

Arafinwë looked at the Valië in confusion. "I don’t understand. Why..."

She smiled again. "He fears the truth, or rather, he fears what might be the truth. What he is looking for is reassurance that his death was not in vain, that he didn’t die for nothing. He wants to know that dying was the only thing that would have saved his sister, the only option left open to him."

"Option?"

Vána nodded, looking sadly in the direction which Sador had fled. "He thinks he has no other worth in Eru’s eyes than to be a sacrifice for his sister’s life, that he was born for the sole purpose of being killed in her stead."

Arafinwë gasped at the implications of Vána’s words and felt dizzy for a moment. He wasn’t surprised to find himself being assisted into a chair that hadn’t existed before then. "Take a deep breath, child, and let it out slowly," Vána said quietly, rubbing his back until he felt the world righting itself and he could think clearly again.

The Valië smiled sadly down at him. "Now you understand why he cannot know what her fate ultimately was, at least not yet."

Arafinwë could only nod, not trusting himself to speak. Then, Vána bent down and kissed the top of his head. "You will be all right if I leave you now, hinya?"

"Go, Lady. I am well. Find Sador and give him what comfort you may. I fear I am inadequate to the task."

"No, Pityahuan," she said softly. "Never inadequate, just not the one he needs at the moment." Then she was gone and Arafinwë was left alone.

****

Sador ran heedlessly through the garden, nearly blind with tears, anger and sorrow warring within him. He finally stopped only when he found himself facing a high brick wall and suddenly realized he had no idea where he was. He was in an unfamiliar part of the garden. Looking about he saw he was alone. Only butterflies kept him company, floating in the late afternoon air above the honeysuckle climbing the arbors. All was still, not even a breeze. It was as if the entire world had gone silent.

He leaned against the wall, feeling suddenly drained of all emotion. Wiping the tears from his eyes he sat on the verge, wrapping his arms around his knees as he gazed disconsolately upon the serene indifference of Yavanna’s demesne.

"My older sister is quite good at what she does," Vána said softly as she appeared upon the path before him. "I prefer dancing myself."

Sador gazed at her but said nothing. Vána gave him a small smile and gazed around her in satisfaction. "Look," she said, pointing to the butterflies. "They dance a merry jig, do they not?"

Sador simply shrugged, not really caring, only wishing the Lady would go somewhere else and save her prattle about dancing and butterflies for others. He just wanted to be left alone in his misery. Vána shook her head at the ellon.

"That won’t do, child," she chided him. "Come, stand up and face me."

For all her ethereal lightness of tone, there was a tenor of command to those words that Sador found impossible to ignore and before he realized it he was standing with his back against the wall facing the Valië.

"That’s better. I never cared for sniveling children. My lord likes them even less."

In spite of himself, Sador found himself grinning. "Why then did Lord Oromë choose me for the Hunt?"

Vána smiled now. "Well, not for your hunting skills, at least." She laughed gaily at that and so infectious was it that Sador could not help but chuckle. "Truly, child, it was because he admires courage and those who willingly face down evil, as you have done more than once. My lord has great fondness for those who sacrifice themselves for the sake of others."

"My sister..."

"Whether your sister lives or not, you cannot know at this time," Vána said, then sighed, brushing a hand across the ellon’s forehead, attempting to smooth the look of rebellion on his visage. "Child, we do not withhold this information from you out of spite, but out of love. This knowledge is not yet yours to bear, for you have yet to embrace the worth of your own actions."

"I don’t..."

"Sador." She placed a finger lightly upon his lips. "You must not believe yourself worthless in Eru’s eyes. Your willingness to throw yourself before the sword that would have struck down your sister was a choice, one of many offered to you at that moment. Your dying was not the sole reason for your existence. Eru does not demand that from anyone. Your dying was merely a consequence of your choice. Your choice, child. Not Eru’s. Not ours. Yours and yours alone."

"But..."

Vána shook her head. "Do you not yet see, child? Nothing is ever created for a single purpose. Look about you." She turned her attention to the garden, sweeping an arm to encompass it. "Those butterflies, for instance. They were created for beauty, but that is not their sole purpose. They help to pollinate the very plants above which they dance, thereby allowing beauty to continue unto future generations. These trees here." She pointed to a stand of elms. "They provide us with shade on a sunny afternoon. But that is not their sole purpose. They also shelter the birds and make it possible for you to breathe. Without these trees, child, you would not be able to live."

Sador looked at her in amazement for a moment, then stared at the elms, their branches swaying slowly in a breeze that had suddenly come up, soft and fragrant with the scent of honeysuckle, roses, and lavender.

"You made a choice, Sador," Vána continued quietly, yet with great authority. "Whether it was a good choice or a bad one, you might never know. All you need to know is that you made it and must needs live with the consequences of it, trusting that Eru will see that the choice, however poorly made or perceived, will ultimately be the right choice, the only choice that you could have made."

Sador looked down at his feet for a moment. "I... I just want to know...."

"Even we Valar are not given that privilege."

"Huh?" He looked up in confusion to see the Valië smiling.

"Even we Valar are not given the privilege of knowing," she explained. "We may know more than you Children, but we do not know all. We stumble as much in the dark about some things as you do. The difference is, we stumble knowing that there is One Who is there to catch us. We have faith that it is so, faith and more than faith." She paused for a moment, staring out into the silent garden, contemplating something, then nodded, as if coming to a decision or acknowledging a command. She turned back to Sador. "Has it ever occurred to you, child, that we withhold the information about your sister and your parents because Eru wills it so at this time? Have you ever considered that we do this because we are enjoined to by One Who is above us all and not because we wish to see you in misery?"

Sador stared at the Valië in shock. Vána nodded, assured that what she needed to say had been said. It would take time for this Child to assimilate everything she had imparted to him, but she was confident that he would be able to do so. Her lord husband had high hopes for this one... they all did.

"Now," she said briskly, "it is time to dance."

Before he could protest, Sador suddenly found himself being dragged away from the wall towards where the butterflies still floated above the honeysuckle. Music, coming from somewhere or nowhere, came softly to his ears, the sound of it increasing somewhat until he could clearly hear it. It was beautiful beyond his experience. No elf had ever made such music. He found himself weeping and laughing at the same time and then Vána was twirling him around and it reminded him somewhat of the mad dance Finrod and Glorfindel had performed before Arafinwë’s court.

Then, he found himself in the midst of the butterflies and he could not afterwards decide if he had shrunk or they had grown for they were all about him, a riot of shades and hues, seemingly as large as he (or it might have been the other way around). Vána was there also and she laughed gaily and wildly as the tempo of the music, and therefore the dance, increased until Sador found himself dancing and singing with wild abandon himself, to the point that he lost all sense of self, allowing the music (and the butterflies) to encompass his very being.

How long this lasted, he never knew nor cared. A time came when he found himself lying on the lawn, still in the garden, his head in Vána’s lap. Stars glittered serenely above them. He was weeping again, but they were tears of joy, not sorrow. Vána ran a gentle hand through his hair, but otherwise said nothing, allowing him the space to express his emotions as he needed to. Then he reached up and placed a hand on her cheek and stroked it, as if reassuring himself of her presence. She smiled down at him.

"Yes, best beloved, I’m quite real. Go to sleep now." She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. In minutes Sador’s eyes became unfocused and he slipped gently onto the Path of Dreams where butterflies seemed to dominate the dreamscape.

****

When he woke the next morning, he was still in the garden. Vána was gone, but Arafinwë was there, sleeping beside him, his arms around the younger elf, protecting him.

****

Pityahúnya: My Little Hound. An affectionate nickname used by the Valar for Arafinwë. Huan become hún- before endings.

Notes: Vána and Yavanna are sisters in the Thought of Eru.

Butterflies are often seen as the personification of a person’s soul, whether they be living, dying or already dead. They also symbolize rebirth into a new life, as well as hope.





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