120: At the Reception in Tirion

"Quite a crowd," Sador remarked quietly as he and his friends — Rúmilion and his cousins, Serindë and Mardillë — stood along one side of the main ballroom of the palace watching the Tol Eressëans mingling somewhat uneasily with the Noldorin court. The Noldóran was holding an informal reception for the delegates before they would leave for Valmar. Rúmilion gave the younger ellon a wicked grin.

"You have a gift for stating the obvious," he said.

Sador blushed a bit. "I’m just saying, I don’t think I’ve seen so many people gathered in this room before, not even for any court function or celebration."

"Certainly, not so many overdressed peacocks," Mardillë replied with a slight sneer. "These Tol Eressëans think they can outshine us? Heh!" She smoothed the rich velvet fabric of her gown.

"Now, Marda," her sister, ever the diplomat, chided, "these people are doing their best to fit in. It’s a very awkward situation for them. The Nandor are unused to wearing such finery I imagine and most of these people are not aristocrats. They’re merchants and smiths and ordinary people suddenly finding themselves in positions of power. You should show a bit more compassion for them."

Mardillë did not contradict her sister but it was obvious to Sador that the elleth was not convinced by Serindë’s words. He sighed. "I could have been one of them," he said, nodding towards a small group of people huddled in one corner looking lost and uncertain. They were mostly Sindar, though one or two were obviously of mixed blood. Their gowns and tunics were dull in comparison to those of the Noldor or even the Tol Eressëan nobles and they looked very uncomfortable. Without a word to his friends, Sador made his way over to them. There were two ellyn and three ellith in the group and they gave him suspicious looks as he approached.

He bowed to them gracefully and smiled. "Mae govannen," he said. "Welcome to Tirion. I am Sador Bronwegion." He felt his three friends behind him and gestured for them to step forward. "These are my friends, Rúmilion, Mardillë and Serindë."

"Mae govannen," Rúmilion said with a bow. "Gil híla am lû e-govaded vîn."

The Tol Eressëans gave him a surprised look and one of the ellyn began speaking rapidly in Sindarin. Rúmilion’s expression became pained and he raised his hand. "I’m sorry," he said apologetically, speaking Quenya, "but I’m afraid that’s all the Sindarin I know."

Sador quickly translated and the Tol Eressëans nodded. The ellon who had spoken switched to Quenya. "We all speak Quenya," he said, "but not very well. If you speak slowly, we will understand."

"You’re Reborn, aren’t you?" Sador asked and the five Tol Eressëans nodded in surprise.

"How could you tell?" one of the ellith asked in dismay. "Are we that obvious?"

Sador shook his head. "Only to another Reborn," he said. He turned to his three friends. "Did you guess that these good people were Reborn?"

All three shook their heads. "No," Serindë answered. "I just thought they were ordinary people... oh, dear! That didn’t come out right did it?" She held a hand in front of her mouth and reddened in dismay.

"And you’re supposed to be in the diplomatic corps?" Rúmilion retorted, shaking his head in feigned disgust.

The five Reborn and Sador started laughing. "Do not worry," the first ellon said with a smile. "We knew what you meant and in truth we are just ordinary people. My name is Saelmir, by the way. I think we met in Tavrobel." He turned to Sador who nodded.

"I thought you looked familiar but wasn’t sure. Well met again."

Saelmir turned to the Noldor. "I was in Lórien with Finrod. We shared a pavilion together with another ellon named Brethorn." He then proceeded to introduce the other Reborn. Afterwards he gave Sador a quizzical look. "I had hoped to see Finrod but he does not seem to be here."

Sador shook his head. "He is still in Lórien but will join us in Valmar in time for the solstice ball. You’ll see him then."

"Why is he in Lórien?" one of the Reborn asked in confusion.

"He resides there now," Sador replied. "He has apprenticed himself to Lords Irmo and Námo, learning something of the healers’ craft and helping to minister to the Reborn."

The five Reborn appeared impressed by Sador’s news. "I always knew there was something extraordinarily special about Finrod and not because he was once a king," Saelmir said.

"He is very special, indeed," Rúmilion said and when the Tol Eressëans gave him enquiring looks he smiled. "My cousins and I became friends of the prince shortly after he returned to Tirion. We’ve seen him... er... grow up."

They all laughed at that.

"So you are part of the Reborn delegation," Serindë said and the five nodded. "I was surprised to learn that there was a separate delegation of the Reborn attending the Council. Do you not all belong to various guilds and such? Would not your voices be heard through your guildmasters?"

"The Reborn have their own agenda," Saelmir stated, "that does not coincide with those of the guilds or the city councils. It was the Valar who suggested that the Reborn come as a separate delegation."

Serindë raised an eyebrow at that, giving Sador an enquiring look. The ellon nodded. "Lord Manwë suggested it to Glóremmir and Faramir when they were here with Lord Thorongorn and Councillor Dúlinn."

"Interesting," was all the elleth said, looking thoughtful.

One of the Reborn ellith whom Saelmir had introduced as Alphedis sighed just then, looking enviously at the finery of the two Noldorin ellith. "I wish now I had not agreed to come here," she said. "This is my best gown, but it’s nothing compared to yours." The other two Reborn ellith nodded in agreement.

Mardillë started to comment but Serindë cut her off, giving the three Reborn ellith a bright smile. "I think your gowns are quite lovely, and I’m not being politic but truthful. I’ve not seen that particular style of embroidery before. Is it your own design?"

"Actually, it’s the design of another Reborn," Alphedis answered. "Her name is Morwen and she is Lady Meril’s chief embroideress."

"Oh! I know her," Sador said enthusiastically. "I met her when we were in Kortirion. She really is quite talented." He turned to his friends with a wicked smile. "Findaráto has hired Morwen to do his wedding clothes."

Rúmilion and his cousins gave him surprised looks and even Mardillë took the time to re-examine the embroidery, giving it a more admiring look than she had before.

"Actually, Morwen did all our clothes for this event," Saelmir told them. "She even designed special tabards for us to wear when we are in Council, similar to the guild tabards that the guildmasters will wear to identify themselves."

Sador nodded and the others looked impressed. "I’ll be wearing my own tabard," he said, "as I’ll be acting as Findaráto’s diplomatic aide during the proceedings." He gave the Reborn a shy smile at their surprised expressions. "It’s what I’ve been trained for, after all."

"Then we will see you there," Saelmir said. "That is good. I am interested in speaking with any Reborn who reside here in Aman to see what their thoughts are on all of this."

"I would be happy to speak with you at a time of your convenience," Sador replied. "We won’t be leaving for Valmar until the day after tomorrow, so perhaps tomorrow when my duties are over we can meet and talk."

"That would be fine," Saelmir said, "and if you don’t mind, I’d like to ask Brethorn to join us and a few others."

"Is Brethorn here?" Sador asked, looking about him.

"He’s heading our delegation," Saelmir answered.

"Then I would be honored to speak with him and anyone else," Sador said. "I know one or two Reborn here in the city. Would you like to speak with them as well?"

"If you can arrange it, and only if they are willing to speak with us," Saelmir said.

"I’ll see what I can arrange." Sador gave them a bow. "If you will excuse me, I need to speak with Atar Arafinwë."

"You address the Noldóran as ‘Atar’?" the other Reborn ellon asked in disbelief.

Sador shrugged. "I am his ward after all and he and Amm’ Eärwen treat me as their son more than as another junior courtier. At any rate, I will send a message to you when I am free to meet with you. It will most likely be sometime in the afternoon."

"That will be fine. Thank you," Saelmir said and with another bow, Sador left them. Rúmilion and his cousins made to follow him but a slight shake of his head and a frown told them that he preferred that they did not.

The three Noldor stood about looking a bit uncomfortable, almost as uncomfortable as the five Reborn, Serindë reflected wryly to herself. Well, she was the one who was in the diplomatic corps. Time to put all her training to work. She gave the five Reborn a brilliant smile. "So how does life on Tol Eressëa compare with your lives in Beleriand?"

For a moment the Reborn did not respond, giving each other glances as if to determine who would answer the elleth’s question. Finally, Saelmir, who appeared to be their spokesman, cleared his throat. "Well, for one thing, there aren’t any orcs around making your life miserable."

The other Reborn nodded vigorously and then one of the ellith giggled and soon they were all laughing and the tension between them broke. After that, the conversation between them went more smoothly and by the time the evening ended, Rúmilion had danced with all three Reborn ellith and his cousins had taken turns with the ellyn and they left the ballroom fast friends.

****

Sador made his way across the ballroom floor, smiling politely as he was greeted by the Noldorin courtiers whom he knew, ignoring the quizzical looks of the Tol Eressëans that were cast his way. He knew they were puzzled by his single warrior’s braid. He had long ceased to think about it, or the reason for it. Not that he didn’t have the occasional nightmare even now, so many months after his kidnapping, but he was able to put that sorry incident behind him for the most part and had stopped feeling self-conscious about his looks.

He spied Arafinwë, who towered over many of the other elves, standing in a mixed crowd of Noldorin courtiers and some of the Tol Eressëan delegates and made his way to him. The king saw him and gave him a warm smile, gesturing for him to come forward as he put an arm around the ellon’s shoulders.

"And how are you holding up?" Arafinwë asked quietly. "Any problems?"

"No, Atya," Sador replied. "I just finished having a nice conversation with some Reborn. I’ve left Rúmilion and his cousins with them. I came to see if you needed me for anything."

Arafinwë pursed his lips, giving his ward a considering look. Something in the ellon’s eyes told him that more was going on than Sador was letting on. Making a decision, he glanced at the others in their group. "My lords and ladies, if you will excuse me," he said, giving them a brief bow which they all returned, and then he was steering a half-protesting Sador away. He led his ward out of the ballroom altogether, stepping outside and into one of the palace gardens, an herbal garden with a single entrance. Calandil, acting as Arafinwë’s guard, stood before the entrance to prevent others from entering, thus ensuring their privacy.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Arafinwë finally asked quietly when he was sure they were alone and unlikely to be overheard.

Sador shrugged. "I was standing with Rúmilion, Mardillë and Serindë, commenting on the number of people there were. Marda made some disparaging remarks about the Tol Eressëans trying to outshine us in their finery. Her sister reprimanded her."

"And Mardillë’s remarks upset you?" Arafinwë asked, attempting to fathom what his ward was really trying to say.

Sador shrugged. "Not really, but then I spied a group of people who were not as richly dressed as many of the others and I knew that they were Reborn." He gave Arafinwë a slight smile at the king’s look of surprise. "I guess it takes one to know one."

Arafinwë nodded, looking thoughtful. "Go on."

"It suddenly occurred to me that I could have been one of them. I mean, I could have ended up on Tol Eressëa, and that would have been fine, but what if I’d been sent there all alone with no family to welcome me? What would have happened to me?"

"But you weren’t," Arafinwë pointed out. "You were put in my care."

"But what if you hadn’t accepted me?" Sador insisted. "What... what if no one wanted me?" He started sniffling and Arafinwë could see he was trying hard not to cry. He took the ellon into his embrace and held him, suddenly realizing that this child was indeed a child in many ways still. So much had happened to him and he had shown such resilience and maturity, but for all that, he was still very, very young and the young were always insecure and in constant need of assurance.

"Do you think that Lord Irmo or any of the Valar would be so callous as to leave you to fend for yourself?" he asked gently.

"I don’t know," Sador replied. "I know some of the Reborn had no family to take them in."

"But they had friends," Arafinwë pointed out, "people who knew them and cared for them. You just happened to be the rare exception. And you know that the Valar were simply waiting for your anammë to come to know you and love you for yourself before you and she learned of your true relationship. If you had been sent to Tol Eressëa you would never have met Netilmírë would you?"

Sador shook his head. "No," he said faintly.

"I know this past year has been fraught with much adventure, some of it quite frightening for you," Arafinwë said, looking down at his ward with a gentle smile, "but I want you to know how very proud I am of you. I could not be any prouder if you were the child of my own loins. You are more than just my ward, Sador. You are my heart-son, just as Glorfindel is. You will always have a home with us no matter what."

"Thank you," Sador whispered.

Arafinwë bent down and planted a light kiss on the ellon’s brow, recognizing that the child had simply needed some reassurance. He gave him a quick hug and was about to suggest that they return to the ballroom before someone missed them when Calandil called from where he was standing guard.

"Sire! There seems to be some trouble."

Arafinwë and Sador looked at one another in dismay. "I hope it’s not a Reborn having a flashback," Sador said as they made their way out of the garden.

"If it is, we’ll deal with it," Arafinwë replied with a smile. "I’m getting to be quite good at it."

Sador chuckled but his smile, and Arafinwë’s, fled when they reached the ballroom and took in the scene. In a tight knot were a group of people looking wary, even frightened, while surrounding them stood several ellyn who appeared to be threatening them, not physically but verbally. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that they were more than a little drunk. Arafinwë noticed Eärwen making her way across the ballroom from where she had been holding court, her expression imperious. Arafinwë felt himself growing angry and made to join his wife. Calandil and Sador had to force a path through the spectators for him.

As he drew closer he could see that the group being threatened were the delegates from Angobel and he was not too surprised to see Morcocáno leading those haranguing them. Would the ellon never learn? Why he had been allowed to head the delegation from Avallónë was beyond him.

"Ye are not welcome here, shlaves," the ellon was snarling at Meluiwen and Morfinnel, his words slurred, his eyes just a little too bright. Against all protocol he was speaking in Sindarin. It had been a stipulation that anyone who was to be a delegate to the Council had to be able to speak Quenya, and that language only would be spoken in all public venues. "Why don’ ye go back to your mines where ye belong?"

Several of his fellows murmured angrily in agreement with that sentiment.

"Not all of us are slaves," Morfinnel retorted, speaking Sindarin as well. "We have as much right to be here as any, especially when the Belain themselves invited us."

"So you say," sneered Morcocáno.

"So I say," Arafinwë interjected, speaking Quenya. He had learned enough Sindarin over the last year to understand much of what was being said. There were gasps of dismay from many throats as people saw the Noldóran among them looking stern. "So says the Elder King. I could ask him to verify Morfinnel’s words. All I have to do is call for any one of the Maiar whom I know are here watching us to send word to Lord Manwë."

Now everyone, even Morcocáno, was looking about furtively, as if they could detect the presence of the Maiar Arafinwë insisted were present. There were many uncomfortable expressions on the faces of the bystanders.

"Where is your wife, Morcocáno?" Eärwen asked in the lull. "I cannot imagine the Lady Nelluin countenancing your obstinacy and truculence in this matter."

"She’s not here," Morcocáno said sourly. "I left her back in Avallónë. I would not allow her to be polluted by their presence." He cast a sneering look at Meluiwen and the other delegates from Angobel, half of whom were actually farmers, not miners.

"Actually, I am here, Morcocáno, you fool."

All eyes turned to see a Sindarin elleth approaching. She was very beautiful, even by Elvish standards, but Arafinwë could see the haunted look in her eyes. She glared at her husband who was staring at her in mute shock. "Did you seriously think I would allow you to dictate to me my comings and goings?" she sniffed in disdain. "I waited until you were well away and then came on my own, sailing with the ship that brought the Nandor." She glanced at the people of Angobel, her expression rueful. "Please forgive my husband. He has never been able to accept that I was once a slave, if only for a short time."

"Many do not accept us, Lady Nelluin," Meluiwen said with a shrug.

"Well, they are fools if they do not," Nelluin retorted with a huff. "It’s not as if any of us deserved slavery after all."

"Some might disagree with you on that," Morfinnel said with a sour grin.

"It is in the past," Nelluin insisted, glaring again at her husband. "There is no shame in having been a slave. You have no right to harangue these good people, Morcocáno. They are not the enemy. Nor am I."

"Morcocáno," Arafinwë said before the ellon could respond, having decided it was time to intervene. "All here are under my protection, even you. But do not mistake me. I will not tolerate your vituperation or your slander of people who have done you no personal harm. The people of Angobel are here because the Valar desire them to be here and that is all you need to know. Now, Lady... Nelluin, is it?" He gave the elleth a respectful bow, his features softening, as she nodded. "Perhaps you should take your husband away and let him cool off."

"Of course, your Majesty," Nelluin said demurely, giving him a proper curtsey. Straightening, she crooked a finger at the still speechless Morcocáno. "Come along, my husband. There are things that need to be said between us that should be said in private."

She turned and strode away, never looking back, yet such was her power over the hapless ellon that Morcocáno followed meekly enough, never bothering to give his obeisance to Arafinwë. Silence covered the room like a thick blanket as the couple left and there were uncomfortable glances all around. Arafinwë swept his gaze about, his expression stern once again.

"Let there be peace among you all," he said solemnly. "Your petty quarrels and imagined fears have no place here. You are here, all of you, to work for the greater good of Tol Eressëa. Let that be your goal. I assure you, the Valar will be even less tolerant of your pettiness than I. Now, if you will excuse us, the queen and I will retire, but feel free to continue with your own merriment."

He glanced at Eärwen, who nodded slightly in approval, and offered her his arm, which she took. Signaling for Sador to join them, the three, along with Calandil, made their way out of the ballroom. They were nearly at their apartments when Sador spoke.

"Morcocáno is trouble," he commented gravely. "I would have him carefully watched if I were you, Atya."

Arafinwë gave his ward a considering look. "I intend to, yonya, but I think Nelluin will keep him in line from now on."

Sador snickered, his expression gleefully elflingish. "He’s afraid of her. I can tell."

"Let us hope he fears her enough," Eärwen muttered so that only Arafinwë heard her.

Násië! he thought fervently and wondered what other surprises were in store for them all when they finally came to Valmar and the Council began in earnest.

****

Gil híla am lû e-govaded vîn: (Sindarin) ‘A star shines on the hour of our meeting’.