103: Reunions in Tirion

The return to Tirion was a joyous one. The people of the city were there to greet their king, for Arafinwë had sent Calandil ahead to warn the queen of their arrival since they were arriving earlier than originally planned. Those of the Progress smiled warmly as the citizens cheered and welcomed them back. Eärwen was there at the front portico of the palace to greet them and Arafinwë wasted no time going to her and kissing her soundly, much to everyone else’s amusement. Then they were ushered into the royal apartments, the guards, servants and support staff that had accompanied them on their Progress dismissed with the king’s thanks and a promise of rewarding them for their faithful service.

“We will hold a special welcoming feast in a few days just for you,” he told them and they went away with glad expressions on their faces.

When everyone had washed the dust of travel from them and were settled in the family dining room where a late lunch was being served, Eärwen insisted on hearing everything.

“You were not due back for at least another three days by my count,” she said to her husband. “What happened?”

Finrod, however, spoke first. “Where are the elflings, Ammë?” he asked. “And Vorondil and Aldundil? Why were they not here to greet us?”

Eärwen smiled. “Fear not, yonya,” she answered. “They are well. Herendil and Vandacalimë invited them to visit their estate with Aldundil and Vorondil. I’m sure Lótemalda appreciated the respite.”

Finrod raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Just how bad were they?”

His ammë laughed. “Oh, they were quite good, I assure you. Lótemalda was actually quite impressed with how well behaved they were and how much they already knew about being pages. You taught them well.”

“I had very good tutors,” Finrod said with a smile. “But why would the Mistress of Pages need a respite from the children? She should be used to dealing with them considering all the practice she had with me and my siblings.”

“Indeed,” Eärwen replied. “However, I am afraid that along with learning proper decorum from you, your little ones learned other lessons from their Reborn friends and put those lessons to good use.”

“Oh for the love of the Valar,” Finrod exclaimed, rolling his eyes, while everyone else chuckled.

Eärwen gave his arm a motherly pat. “I assure you no harm was done and we were actually quite entertained by their... inventiveness. It certainly kept us busy and gave us little time for worry, but I do admit these last few days of quiet have been quite blissful.”

“I am sorry, Ammë,” Finrod started to say, his expression rueful, but Eärwen just waved her hand in dismissal.

“Do not fret, my dear,” she insisted. “As I said, no harm was done and I am sure that Herendil and Vandacalimë are being just as entertained as we were.”

Now everyone was laughing and even Finrod’s expression became more amused at the thought of his good friends dealing with the children.

“I will go tomorrow and rescue them, then,” he said.

“The elflings or Herendil and Vandacalimë?” Ingwion quipped and there was more laughter.

“By the way, speaking of rescue,” Eärwen said, turning to her husband, “you missed Laurendil and Manwen by only two days.”

“Ah, how were they, and more importantly, how were their charges?” Arafinwë asked.

“They were fine,” the queen answered. “Vardamir took one look at Lasgalad and pretty much took over his treatment, even going so far as to insist on traveling to Lórien with them. They didn’t say anything, but I suspect that Laurendil and Manwen were rather relieved to have a Master Healer with them.”

Arafinwë nodded. “I am sure they were. Manwen, of course, has had more training in the healing arts than Laurendil, but they are still apprentices and very recent apprentices at that. Vardamir is one of the best Master Healers in all of Aman, and having been my battle surgeon during the War, he is quite familiar with orc poisons and such.”

Finrod nodded. “Yes. I am glad that Vardamir decided to go with them. How were Marthchall and Gurthalion?”

“They were also well,” his ammë replied, “though Gurthalion had an... episode while he was here. It did not last long and with Laurendil’s and Vardamir’s help, Marthchall was able to calm him almost immediately.”

There was much shaking of heads. “I do hope they will be able to help him in Lórien,” Amarië said softly.

Finrod patted her hand gently and gave her a loving smile. “I have every confidence that they will,” he said.

“As did Vardamir,” Eärwen added. “I think he went as much for Gurthalion’s and Marthchall’s sake as for Lasgalad’s. Marthchall puts on a brave face but he has his own demons to contend with. In Lórien he may find the peace of mind that he so sorely needs. But, now, tell me all about your adventures.”

And they did. It took some time but no one was in a hurry and they lingered over their lunch, calling for wine and tea and taking turns telling of the things that happened to them. Arafinwë ended their tales by telling about the aborted council meeting in Kortirion and their flight from the city.

“Olwë and I are confident that our ruse will work and the council at the winter solstice will be held as originally planned,” he told her. “I will be traveling to Vanyamar later to speak with Ingwë and perhaps with Lord Manwë. Even if the council is not held there are certain decisions that need to be made concerning the people of Tol Eressëa. We’ve neglected our duty to them for too long.”

Eärwen nodded. “Well, I am sure it will turn out well in the end. But for now, let us put the problem that is Tol Eressëa aside and concentrate on other matters.”

“And what other matters would that be?” Arafinwë asked, giving his wife an amused smile.

Eärwen smiled back, giving him a wink. “Why, the matter of Findaráto’s upcoming begetting day celebration, of course. It’s not every day an ellon reaches the grand old age of a hundred and two.”

Finrod rolled his eyes and groaned, sinking into his chair, apparently trying to hide, while everyone else just laughed.

****

The next morning, Finrod rode out to the estate of Lord Herendil and was greeted joyfully by that lord and his son.

“Herendil,” Finrod said with a smile, giving his friend a warm embrace. “I hope the children were not too much for you and Vandacalimë.”

Herendil laughed. “It depends on how you define the word ‘children’, Findaráto,” he said, giving his son, standing next to him, a wink. Aldundil looked somewhat embarrassed.

“Oh?” Finrod asked with an amused glint in his eyes as he glanced at his vassal. “And what mischief have you been up to, Aldundil?”

“Not as much as I would like,” the ellon muttered and both Finrod and Herendil laughed as the latter led them into the house.

“The other children are presently riding,” Herendil explained. “Vandacalimë promised them a picnic, so she is with them. They won’t be back for hours.”

Finrod shrugged. “My time is my own. Why don’t we find somewhere to relax and I will tell you all about Tol Eressëa and Aldundil, you can show me how your illuminations are progressing.”

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” Herendil said. “As it happens, Aldundil has been using my study for his work so we might as well go there, if that is amenable to you.”

Finrod nodded. Herendil continued speaking as they made their way down a short hall and up a flight of stairs. “I am quite impressed with Aldundil’s work. I had no idea he was an artist.”

“Neither did I,” Aldundil confessed as they entered the study. “When Lady Nienna suggested I learn the art of illumination, I thought she was just giving me something to keep me occupied while I was there with Vorondil. I never imagined that I would actually enjoy it and find a great sense of contentment in doing so.”

“Lady Nienna is very perceptive,” Finrod said with a nod as he accepted a goblet of wine from Herendil. “I suspect she suggested learning the art of illumination because it is the very opposite of what you were doing before, working in the Exchequer. It’s possible that if you showed no real talent or interest in illumination, she would have found some other work for you to do until you found that which gave you joy.”

“I suspect you are right,” Aldundil said. “At any rate, I have nearly finished with the first section, if you would like to see it.”

“Yes, I would, but perhaps later,” Finrod said. “I think it best to fill you in on all that happened on Tol Eressëa first while we are not in danger of being interrupted, for the telling will be long. After dinner, you can show me.”

“You’re staying for dinner?” Herendil asked, his expression one of feigned dismay. “I had better go warn the cooks then.”

Finrod laughed. “You’ll do nothing of the sort. At any rate, I don’t mean to take the elflings back with me to the city. They can stay here if you have no objections until I send for them. Atar has to go to Vanyamar soon to consult with Ingwë and he may wish for me to stay in Tirion and deal with whatever comes up while he is away."

“The children are welcomed to stay here for as long as necessary,” Herendil said. “They are quite delightful and my wife and I are very happy to have them. They and Vorondil are inseparable. I am so glad he has found friends at last, even if they are so much younger than he.”

“But emotionally, he is on par with them,” Finrod said. “A consequence of his Judgment by the Valar.”

Herendil shook his head. “When Aldundil told me about that.... Will he always be as he is?”

“Oh no,” Finrod hastened to assure him. “It is very much like the Reborn. You remember how I was when I first returned. It will be much like that for Vorondil, though the process of maturation will not take as long. I suspect that within the next ten years he will reach the level of maturity that is expected of someone just past his majority, but for now, let him be the elfling Calalindalë never allowed him to be.”

Aldundil sighed, looking sad, but Herendil just nodded, giving his son a loving pat on his arm. Then, he turned to Finrod. “So, just what did happen on your trip? If I remember correctly, you weren’t due back for another couple of days.”

Finrod grinned. “Well, our plans changed, and rather dramatically, too. When we reached Tavrobel, Gilvagor and Haldir were waiting for us and....”

****

Finrod was just finishing up his summary of the events in Kortirion when there was the sound of young voices and much laughter. Herendil and Aldundil both smiled. “Ah, the elflings are back and not a moment too soon. Thank you for filling us in on what happened, Findaráto. You have given us much to think about.”

Finrod nodded. “I imagine that Atar will call a general council meeting tomorrow or the next day to discuss what our options are. He and Anatar apparently have worked things out between them, so at the moment it’s just a waiting game until we hear from the Tol Eressëans.”

And then there was no more time for talk, for suddenly, the door burst open and Vorondil rushed in with the five elflings in tow, all of them shouting glad greetings when they saw Finrod. Herendil, however, held up a hand. “Na quildë!” he shouted and immediately all six children tumbled to a halt. Herendil’s expression was stern, as were those of Aldundil and Finrod. “Have you forgotten all your lessons?” Herendil demanded. “Bursting in here without even bothering to knock. His Highness will think you’ve learned nothing these last two weeks. For shame, all of you.”

The children were looking suitably chagrined. “S-sorry, Anatto,” Vorondil stuttered. “One of the grooms told Anammë that Master was here and… I guess we were so excited… we forgot.”

“Apparently,” Aldundil said. “I think you should all leave now and await his Highness’ pleasure in the orangery.”

The children all looked at Finrod who nodded. “I will come down in a few minutes,” he said.

They gave him clumsy bows, their expressions downcast as they exited the room more quietly than they had entered it. When the door closed, Finrod sighed. “I hate to punish them for their exuberance. Two weeks is a long time for them and I know they missed me.”

“And did you miss them?” Herendil asked in curiosity.

Finrod grinned somewhat sheepishly. “Actually, I did. There were odd moments when I thought to myself: I bet the children would love this or wouldn’t Vorondil like to see that.” He shrugged. “You would think I was their atto or something.”

“In many ways you are,” Herendil replied. “When you took their oaths, you took on the role of a parent or guardian to them and Vorondil is much the same though the circumstances with him are different.” He smiled as he gestured towards Aldundil. “Welcome to our world.”

Aldundil smirked and Finrod snorted. “Well, I best go down and speak to the children. Are you all right with my leaving them with you for another couple of days? Atar is planning to hold a welcoming feast the day after tomorrow for the servants and guards who accompanied us on the Progress. I had thought to have the elflings act as pages.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Herendil said. “Vandacalimë and I will make sure they have had some practice in the meanwhile.”

“Good,” Finrod said. “And perhaps Vorondil will like to help out as well.”

“But he’s had no training as a page,” Aldundil protested.

“No, but I was thinking of another role for him,” Finrod answered as he stood up, but what that role was he would not say at that time. “I’ll take a look at your work after dinner, Aldundil,” he continued.

Aldundil nodded. “I will have everything set out for you.”

With that, Finrod left and made his way out to the gardens, walking along a path that led to the orangery. He spied the six children huddled together beside a fountain, all of them looking miserable. When they looked up and saw him approach, even Veryandur looked frightened. They all stood and gave him their obeisance, none of them looking at him. He glanced around to make sure that they were alone and then he smiled warmly and opened his arms wide.

“How I’ve missed all of you,” he said and the children looked up in surprise. For a second or so none of them moved and then they were all trying to hug him at the same time, even Vorondil, which made Finrod laugh as he hugged them back.

“You’re not angry?” Veryandur asked.

“Oh, yes, very angry,” Finrod replied, speaking more solemnly. “Lord Herendil was correct to admonish you, but I am willing to forget and forgive this one time.”

They all nodded and Eruanna sighed. “We were sure you would send us away,” she said.

“Well, beside the fact that I hold your oaths still,” Finrod replied with a slight smile as he sat down beside the fountain, “I would not send you away for being yourselves. Now, let us forget about it and you can tell me what you have been doing these last two weeks.”

They proceeded to do just that, enthusiastically interrupting one another in order to add a detail here or correct someone’s narrative there. It took some time for them to get it all out, and Finrod was patience personified, hiding a smile at their exuberance.

“Well, it sounds as if you had as interesting a time as we did,” he said when they had at last become silent. “His Majesty is holding a welcoming feast for those who were part of the Progress,” he continued. “I would like you to act as pages. Lord Herendil has assured me that he and Lady Vandacalimë will see that you get lots of practice beforehand.”

“When will the feast be held?” Vorondil asked.

“In two days time,” Finrod answered, “and Vorondil, I would like you to be there as well.”

“Me?” the ellon exclaimed in surprise. “I haven’t had any training as a page, Master.”

“I know, but I have another role for you,” Finrod said with a gentle smile.

Vorondil was not the only one with a puzzled look on his face. All the others were equally bemused. “What are you going to have him do, lord?” Eruanna asked.

Finrod looked at the concerned faces and laughed. “I assure you, nothing bad,” he said. “I am sure Mistress Lótemalda told you that during a formal feast, it is traditional for a squire to stand attendance to his lord.” The younger children all nodded. “Well, I think Vorondil will fit that bill rather nicely, don’t you?”

They all looked surprised. “But what of Alassiel?” Vorondil asked. “Isn’t she your squire?”

Finrod nodded. “Technically, yes, but at the feast she will be a member of the Vanyarin royal family.” Then he gave them a wicked smile, gesturing them to come closer and putting a finger to his lips. “Besides,” he whispered conspiratorially, “she and Sador are too busy falling in love for her to be bothered with being my squire.”

For a second or two there was absolute silence and then Lindorillë snickered and that was followed by giggles from the others.

“Poor Sador,” Oromendil said and then they were all laughing.

****

Na quildë!: (Quenya) ‘Be silent!’

Note: Vardamir, Arafinwë’s chief healer, first appeared in the Findaráto Diaries, chapter 25.