115: Lunch with Elflings

"I wish to apologize for my atar," Aldundil said to Finrod as the two made their way towards Lady Melian’s grove where the elflings were waiting for them.

"Your atar was very upset," Finrod said. "Not that I blame him, but I have to admit I was taken by surprise by his accusation. I feared our friendship might be coming to an end and that grieved me more than anything."

"I know," Aldundil said, sighing. "I know how much his friendship has meant to you. I couldn’t believe... well, it ended well, I suppose, though I do not think he truly understands."

"Your atar is a very wise ellon," Finrod assured him. "It’ll just take him a little time to accept what he has heard today. Give him time."

Aldundil nodded, still looking pensive. "Do you think it’s true though?"

"What?"

Aldundil stopped, now looking upset. "Do you think... fate is trying to... to kill my son?"

Finrod gave the ellon a fierce hug. "No, I do not. Lord Irmo is correct. It could have been anyone. Vorondil is not the only apprentice who was passing out fresh linen that day. If it had been anyone else, the end result could well have been catastrophic."

Aldundil stepped out of Finrod’s embrace, giving him a puzzled look. "What do you mean? Was not the attack catastrophic enough?"

Finrod shook his head. "Vorondil is alive because he ran, but more importantly, he ran to me. Anyone else in that situation might not have thought to run anywhere. Gurthalion could very easily have killed them in his frenzy. Ignoring the Reborn, most of the elves here in Lórien have no experience of being attacked and the initial shock would most likely have frozen them into immobility which would have proven fatal. Vorondil instinctively sought for my aid and that’s what saved him, as much as anything."

Aldundil had a thoughtful look on his face, the expression turning rueful. "He ran to you... not to me."

Ah! Now Finrod understood. "What would you have been able to do if he had?" he asked gently.

"Beyond subduing Gurthalion, nothing," he admitted. "All I would have been able to do is watch my son die in my arms. It would have been my brother all over again."

"Vorondil did the right thing," Finrod pointed out, giving Aldundil a smile. "He sought help where he knew he would find it. After all, that grove was full of healers and would-be healers."

Aldundil rewarded him with a sardonic grin. "I understand half those apprentices sicked up at the sight of all that blood."

Finrod laughed. "I heard that neither Calamírë nor Meneldil were pleased about that and castigated them for being useless. But come. That’s the noon bell. Let’s not keep the elflings waiting."

Aldundil nodded and they continued on their way, soon arriving at Melian’s grove where the elflings greeted them with great enthusiasm, all of them asking after Vorondil.

"Whoa!" Finrod called out, raising his hands. "Let’s all sit and enjoy our lunch first and then we’ll talk. Vorondil is well, I promise you."

The elflings were reluctant to comply but Aldundil firmly steered them to the table laden with dishes, giving Finrod the chance to greet Lady Melian.

"How are you holding up, dear?" the Maia asked solicitously as she and Finrod exchanged kisses.

"I’ve been better," he admitted. "I’m still not sure what it is I’m doing or even how. I only know it takes a lot out of me."

"Soul-hunting is not easy."

"Is that what it’s called?"

Melian shrugged as she and Finrod took their seats. "As good a name for it as any, I suppose. The fëa flees and unless it is found and returned to its hröa, the person becomes houseless."

"This time, though, it didn’t seem as if Gurthalion fled anywhere, except deeper into his own mind and memories."

"Yet, you still had to go after him, did you not?" Melian asked. "You still had to convince him to return to Life rather than seek Death, which is what he was trying to do, from what I’ve been told."

Finrod nodded, looking thoughtful. He was about to ask another question, but Melian shook her head. "Eat," she commanded, handing him a platter of roasted chicken. "Time for questioning later."

Finrod smiled as he accepted the platter. "Yes, Aunt."

Melian graced him with a smug look and he laughed, turning to the elflings and enquiring what they had been up to during the last few days.

"Veryandur got stung by a bee," Eruanna said, "so I pulled out the stinger and put some mud on it and now it’s all better."

The ellon thrust out his arm to show Finrod. "That’s where it stung me, stupid bee," he said, pointing to a spot on the back of his hand. "It hurt but I didn’t cry... much." He now looked slightly embarrassed.

"And why did the bee sting you?" Finrod asked. "Did you upset it?"

"It kept buzzing around me," Veryandur replied with a scowl. "I was trying to work in the herb garden and it just wouldn’t leave me alone."

"Ah... what plants were you working with?"

Veryandur scrunched his face, trying to remember. "I was transplanting some lavender and I had to also replant some goldenrod. Stupid bee kept getting in my way."

Finrod hid a smile. "Bees are especially attracted to purple and yellow flowers. He was probably hungry and got mad when you wouldn’t let him eat."

Veryandur sighed. "I guess I should’ve let him eat. I could’ve done something else instead."

"Next time, you’ll remember. And Eruanna, that was quick thinking on your part, but I think if it happens again, you should go to one of the healers. They have balms that are more effective against bee stings than mud."

Both children nodded. Then Finrod turned to the other three. "And what about you? Did anything interesting happen?"

Oromendil shrugged. "Some new Reborn came but we haven’t met them yet."

"Do you enjoy working with the Reborn?" Finrod asked as he poked at his salad.

Both Oromendil and Sorondil nodded. "I think I would like to be a Lóriennildo when I grow up and help them for real," the older ellon said.

"You are helping them now," Melian interjected.

"But I’m not a real Lóriennildo, not like Laurendil or my lord," Sorondil protested, giving Finrod a shy look.

Finrod laughed. "I’m not really a Lóriennildo either," he said, "but Lady Melian is correct. You don’t have to be a Lóriennildo to help another person. You just have to have compassion."

"What’s that?" Veryandur asked.

"It is a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is hurting in some way, and you have a strong desire to ease that hurt," Finrod answered. "When you play with the Reborn, listen to their tales and simply be a friend to them, you are helping them immensely, making them feel less awkward and insecure, letting them know that you don’t judge them or look down on them for having died."

"Why would we do that?" Oromendil protested. "It’s not their fault."

"Besides, the only time we look down on them is when we’re hiding in a tree and they’re trying to find us," Sorondil added and both ellyn laughed.

Finrod, Aldundil and Melian exchanged smiles.

"What about you, Oromendil?" Aldundil asked. "Do you want to be a Lóriennildo, too?"

The ellon shook his head. "Not really. I would rather be a trader like my atto."

"What does he trade?" Finrod asked. He realized he knew very little about the elflings' parents and resolved to rectify that lapse in his knowledge soon.

"He trades wines," Oromendil said, looking very proud. "He works for Lord Nolondur who...."

"I am acquainted with Lord Nolondur," Finrod said, his expression wistful, his eyes darkening with memory. He shook his head, as if to clear it of the sadness that suddenly enveloped him and gave Oromendil a smile. "So, your atto works for Lord Nolondur, helping him sell his wines, and you want to help your atto in turn?"

Oromendil nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "I know it’s not as important or as exciting as being a Lóriennildo but...."

"Child, your goal is a worthy one," Finrod said gently. "I have no doubt that you will be a great asset to your atto, and to Lord Nolondur. And learning patience in dealing with unruly Reborn will help you to deal with clients who might give you a hard time."

The ellon snickered and the other elflings grinned. Then Finrod turned to Lindorillë, who had remained quiet during the discussion. Finrod gave her a sympathetic smile. "And what about you, Lindorillë? What has happened of interest with you?"

But instead of answering, the elleth asked her own question, looking distraught. "Is... is Vorondil truly well, or... are you just saying that... lord?"

Finrod glanced at the other elflings and saw that they were looking troubled as well. He turned to Lindorillë. "I have never, nor will I ever lie to you, Lindorillë, to any of you. Vorondil was gravely injured and, yes, he almost died, but Masters Calamírë and Vardamir were there and they saved him. He will be a long time recovering, but Lord Irmo assured me that recover he will."

"When can we see him?" Eruanna asked.

"I don’t know, child," Finrod said gently. "It’s not up to me. Even I had to ask Lord Irmo’s permission to visit, which I will do after lunch."

"Can we come, too?" Veryandur pleaded and the other elflings all nodded in expectation.

Finrod gave Melian a helpless look. Her smile was sympathetic. "Vorondil is still sleeping," she told the elflings. "Lord Findaráto will only stay a moment or two, just to check on him. Vorondil won’t even know he’s there."

"Can we see him when he does wake up?" Sorondil asked.

"I’m sure that can be arranged," Melian replied with a nod.

"You know," Aldundil interjected, "I’m sure Vorondil would appreciate seeing some pretty flowers when he awakens. It will brighten his mood, for I fear he will be in some pain for a while. After lunch, why don’t you all pick your favorite flowers and I’ll find a pretty vase for them and take them to him."

"Do you think we can?" Lindorillë asked, looking dubious. "I didn’t think we were allowed."

"Normally you would not be," Melian said, "but in this instance, I am sure Lord Irmo will grant his permission."

"Indeed I will."

Everyone at the table hastily rose to give Lord Irmo their obeisance as he entered the pavilion where they were lunching. Irmo gave them a gracious smile. "In fact, I think it is a very good idea. Vorondil will need all the color and joy he can get, for his pain will darken his fëa and he will heal the slower because of it. So, by all means, gather your flowers and any other little gifts you might think of to brighten Vorondil’s days. Aldundil will see that he gets them."

"But when can we see Vorondil?" Veryandur exclaimed. "When can we see our friend?"

Irmo gave them a sympathetic look. "Let us wait for him to wake up and recover some of his strength. I promise you, as soon as I think he’s ready for visitors, I will send for you."

The children appeared mollified by that. Irmo motioned for Melian, Finrod and Aldundil to follow him out of the pavilion, leaving the elflings happily discussing what kinds of flowers and gifts they would give to Vorondil.

Irmo’s expression became more solemn as he led the other three from the pavilion, stopping when they were some distance away.

"Is something wrong, lord?" Aldundil asked in a worried tone. "Vorondil...?"

"Your son is fine, Aldundil," Irmo answered promptly. "Have no fear on that account. My brother is presently guarding him. No, there is another matter about which you need to be aware."

"What is that, lord?" Aldundil asked, looking more relieved.

Irmo hesitated, but only for a second, before answering. "When Calalindalë was sent to reside with Lady Vairë for a time, your brother was released from Mandos."

Aldundil gave him a puzzled look. "Released? You mean...."

"He has been re-embodied and is now numbered among the Reborn," Irmo supplied. "Easy now."

The Vala put a hand out even as Melian and Finrod were grabbing Aldundil to prevent him from collapsing, for the ellon turned stark white, the blood draining from his face as he stared at Irmo in shock.

"M-my brother...."

"He came to Lórien only recently," Irmo said, "and already he’s giving his minders grief."

"My parents... do they know?"

"Yes. I told them during lunch," Irmo replied, "and now I’m telling you, but none of you will be able to see him just yet. He doesn’t even remember you."

"Then, why have you told us, lord?" Aldundil demanded. "Would it not have been better if we remained ignorant of this until it was time for him to leave Lórien?"

"Normally, that would be the case, but you and your parents are here and there is the odd chance that you might encounter Vorondil as he’s doing his level best to escape from those charged with watching over him."

"Do you think that’s likely?" Finrod asked skeptically. "Surely the Maiar will be able to keep him from wandering where he should not."

Irmo gave them an amused smile. "We are trying something a little different, allowing the Reborn free rein of Lórien. You may recall how some parts of these Gardens were off-limits to you when you were here."

Finrod nodded.

"I have decided that need not be the case now," Irmo continued. "Oh, there are a few places where none of you Children are permitted without permission, but otherwise, Lórien is open to you and to the Reborn. I have no intention of curtailing Vorondil’s wanderings. He’s too amusing, though his minders don’t think so."

"Then... what should I do if... Oh, Eru... How can I pretend not to know my own brother?" Aldundil’s expression was one of pain and confusion.

"It will be hard, I know," Irmo said solicitously, "but on the off-chance that such an encounter takes place, I did not want you or your parents to be unprepared. You may never meet, for Lórien is larger than you might think and the groves are many, but I wanted to prepare you for that eventuality."

Aldundil nodded. "Thank you for that, at least, lord."

"And now, I must leave you," Irmo said, giving them a nod, "for it appears the Elder King has summoned us in council."

With no more ado, the Vala vanished in a flash of multi-hued lights, leaving the two ellyn blinking. Melian gazed upon them with an air of serenity, neither impatient nor hurried, giving the two ellyn time to adjust.

"My brother is alive again," Aldundil whispered in awe. "Oh Eru... what am I going to tell him about Calalindalë?"

Finrod gave the ellon a hug. "Let us worry about that when the time comes. In the mean time, I think it best that you concentrate on your son. He needs you more now than your brother does."

"Findaráto is correct," Melian chimed in when it looked as if Aldundil might protest. "Let us gather the children and help them pick flowers. That has to be your focus for the moment, child. Your brother is in good hands and is being well taken care of. Concentrate on your son. He is the one who needs you."

Aldundil nodded, though somewhat reluctantly. Finrod clasped him on the shoulder and gave him a squeeze. "Good. Children," he called out, "finish eating and then we’ll go look for flowers for Vorondil."

The elflings cheered and five minutes later they were eagerly following Finrod and Aldundil out of the grove, talking excitedly about the kinds of flowers they were hoping to find while Melian remained behind to take care of the dishes, smiling wistfully as she reminisced about her life with Elu, wondering about the day when he, too, would be re-embodied and what she might say to him when he came to Lórien.