16: At the Great Gates of Return

The next month passed both slowly and swiftly, for I was constantly wondering, not only when Lord Irmo would summon me to tell me that I was to be released, but also whether I should not go to Lord Irmo and formally ask permission to become a Lóriennildo apprentice. Yet, as often as I thought to do so, something always held me back, though whether it was shyness and uncertainty or something else entirely, I never knew. As the month moved inexorably forward, I felt myself dreading more and more the thought of leaving Lórien. Yet, I knew that my destiny lay elsewhere, at least for a time. Perhaps, I thought to myself, Lord Irmo wants me to experience living for real before accepting me back in Lórien as an apprentice. This thought bolstered my flagging spirits, believing that my leaving Lórien was only a temporary thing. It would be many decades before I learned the truth of the matter and in the exigency of living day-to-day in Tirion and the challenges I had to face there, all thoughts of becoming a Lóriennildo would eventually fade from my mind....

****

Finrod, Brethorn and Saelmir were sitting before their pavilion several weeks after the incident with Hithrían enjoying the quiet of the evening. They had finished dinner and were now relaxing before a fire, sipping on some mulled cider, talking quietly of inconsequential things, when someone entered their grove. The three ellyn looked up in surprise, for none of them had been expecting visitors. They hastily rose to their feet and bowed when they saw that their visitor was none other than Lord Irmo.

"A pleasant evening to you all, my children," the Vala greeted them and they returned the greeting with murmured ones of their own. "Please resume your seats," Irmo continued.

Finrod and Brethorn did as they were bid but Saelmir ran into the pavilion and brought out a couple of large pillows. "Here, lord," he said, "you may have my chair. I will sit on the pillows."

Irmo smiled warmly at the ellon. "Thank you, child. You are most solicitous." He gracefully sat in the proffered chair and looked at the three ellyn gazing back at him with varying degrees of interest and trepidation. They all remained respectfully silent, waiting for him to speak. When he did, he addressed Finrod first.

"I have come to tell you, Findaráto, that you will be leaving Lórien within the next week or so."

Finrod gasped and Brethorn and Saelmir smiled, quietly congratulating him. Then Brethorn turned to Lord Irmo, his expression becoming more worried. "And us, lord?" he asked. "What of Saelmir and me? We’ve been here for so long and...."

"Peace, child," Irmo said kindly. "I am keeping you two here a little longer but not for too much longer, I assure you. Both of you have surviving kin who are even now sailing from Ennorath. We will wait for them to come to Tol Eressëa and then you will be reunited. It will be a lovely surprise for them, don’t you think?"

"More like a shock," Saelmir said with a slight chuckle. Finrod and Brethorn nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps," Irmo averred, "though hopefully it will be a pleasant shock. We will let them get settled first before... um... springing you on them." He surprised them by giving them a wink and then they were all laughing lightly, enjoying the jest. "So, I know you are anxious to be gone from here," he continued more briskly, "but please be patient. I promise you that you will be released soon."

"And you call all times soon," Finrod couldn’t help adding, giving the Vala a sly smile, "even if we don’t."

Irmo laughed. "Indeed. But in your case, it will be soon enough, I fear." He gave the ellon a shrewd look and Finrod could only nod. He wasn’t sure if he should feel happy or sad at the news and said so. Irmo nodded sympathetically. "All of the Reborn have the same reaction, so you are not unique in your feelings, Findaráto. Rest assured that while you will face many challenges once you leave Lórien, we have given you back the skills you will need to be successful in your new life. When all else fails, remember what you were before your death. Use those memories to guide you when you are feeling uncertain and I think you will do well enough."

Finrod nodded, though it was obvious from his expression that he wasn’t entirely convinced by the Vala’s words.

"Good," Irmo said with a look of satisfaction on his face and stood up. The three ellyn hastily followed. "I will send Ingil to you," he said to Finrod, "to let you know the day and time when you will be leaving. You should spend the remainder of your days here saying farewell to your friends. You are excused from all classes, though you are certainly free to attend any of them if you so desire."

With that, the Lord of Lórien reached out and taking Finrod’s head in his hands, gently kissed him on the brow in benediction, then did the same for the other two Elves. Then, he simply wasn’t there and the three ellyn stood there staring at the space where he had been for several minutes before they resumed their seats. For a while no one spoke, and then Finrod sighed.

"He didn’t say where I was going," he said.

"I guess you’ll be finding out soon enough," Brethorn replied.

Finrod nodded and then shook himself. He gave his two friends a grin. "So, how much mischief can we get into before I leave?"

Brethorn and Saelmir laughed with glee and the three of them spent the rest of the evening before retiring coming up with one hare-brained scheme after another. By the time they were ready for bed they had come up with enough ideas to keep them occupied for many years rather than the few days left to them.

****

When Finrod’s other Reborn friends learned that he was soon to leave, there was much rejoicing, though a few of the ellith cried and some of the ellyn sighed. Still, all were happy for him and wished him the best of luck in his new life. He was showered with small gifts from his closest friends. Brethorn and Saelmir gave him a small intricately carved box in which he could place the blood knife, something they both recognized when Finrod showed it to them.

"We made this together," Saelmir told him. "I designed the box and the scenes and Brethorn did the carving."

Finrod was overwhelmed by their generosity and spent much time admiring the small panels carved in low relief depicting life in Beleriand with figures of warriors being prominent. "‘Thank you’ seems so inadequate," he said to them. "It’s probably a good thing I’m leaving before you, as the only gift you would have gotten from me would have been a basket and such doesn’t compare to this wonderful gift."

"But we were hoping that you would make us baskets, Finrod," Saelmir said with all sincerity. "I was really looking forward to receiving one from you."

"As was I," Brethorn added.

Finrod gave them a surprised yet pleased look and smiled. "In that case, before I leave, I will have baskets made for you. Tell me the size and shape and purpose which you would like the basket to have and I will do my best to comply with your wishes."

The two Sindar smiled and they spent a little time describing the type of basket each would like. "I’ll get started right away," Finrod said when they were done, "as I don’t know how much time I actually have."

"Time enough."

The three ellyn turned to see Ingil standing there smiling at them.

"I came to let you know that you will be leaving on next Valanya," Ingil said to Finrod. "Please be ready to leave an hour after breaking your fast."

"Valanya!" Finrod exclaimed. "Well, that gives me four whole days. Plenty of time to get your baskets done." He grinned at the two Sindar.

"Yes, indeed," Ingil said, "and that will leave you with no time for mischief-making." He cast them all a knowing look and smiled again as they blushed. "Until Valanya," he said then faded away.

****

So the next few days were a whirlwind of activity for Finrod, saying farewell to the friends he had made in Lórien and feverishly working to finish the baskets, not only for Brethorn and Saelmir but for a few others who had hoped to receive a basket from him at their own leavetaking. He often worked late into the evening and once Brethorn and Saelmir found him still at his worktable when they woke at dawn the next morning. By the evening of Menelya, though, all the baskets were made and Finrod joyfully gave them away. There was a small party in celebration but Finrod did not stay too late, pleading fatigue.

Actually, he was suddenly feeling nervous, and as tired as he truly was, his mind would not stop racing and his stomach churned with worry as he wondered what the following day would bring him. Sleep was a long time coming, though eventually exhaustion took him and he slept for a time.

The next morning he found he could not eat for the excitement he was feeling. Brethorn and Saelmir convinced him to at least have some tea and a piece of fruit.

"You don’t want to embarrass yourself by fainting in front of your family, do you?" Brethorn insisted, and Finrod gave him a weak smile and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

Then, Ingil arrived with Eärnur and suddenly it was time to go. The two Sindar looked forlorn, though they tried to be happy for him. "We’ll miss you," Saelmir said softly as he and Finrod hugged one another. "Come visit us when you can."

"I will," Finrod said, trying to choke back tears that were threatening to come, now giving Brethorn a hug. "And you have to come visit me, as well." Both ellyn nodded.

Then Eärnur came forward and hugged him, thrusting a small cloth-covered package tied with white ribbon into his hands. "Open this when you get home," he said softly.

"Thank you," Finrod said simply, tucking the package into his haversack along with his other possessions. "I... I’ll miss you."

"And I will miss you," Eärnur said. "Try to stay out of trouble."

Finrod nodded and gave his friend a sly look. "I’ll try, but I make no promises."

Eärnur smiled and then Ingil indicated it was time to leave. At the grove’s entrance Finrod stopped to give his friends a final wave, which they returned, and then he followed the Maia out. He held tightly to his small bundle of possessions, his harp safely in its own covering, as he and Ingil walked down one sward after another until they came to a region of Lórien Finrod had never seen before. In front of them were the Andondi Entulessë, wrought of mithril, and intricately carved with leaves and flowers. What struck Finrod odd about it was that the gates were not attached to anything, but stood alone in the middle of the glade. Before the gates were two Reborn ellith, one of them obviously Noldorin, the other Sindarin, whom he did not know, clutching their own small possessions and looking as scared and as excited as he was feeling. Lord Irmo and Lady Estë were also there along with a couple of Maiar, clearly escorts for the other two Elves.

"Ah, we’re all here, then," Lord Irmo said as he spied Finrod and Ingil approaching, gesturing for them to join with the others. The Vala smiled benignly upon the three Elves. "I know you are all feeling nervous and uncertain of what lies beyond these gates," he said, "but I have every confidence that you will thrive and succeed in your new lives."

Then Lady Estë spoke, giving them all a kiss on their brows. "Remember this, my children, no matter what happens from now on, no matter what you may find on the other side of these gates, know that you will always have our love."

"Indeed," Lord Irmo stated. "You all will face many challenges in your new lives, but we have given you the wherewithal to meet those challenges and overcome them. Be well, my children," he gave them his own kisses, "and be happy. Now, Aearill," speaking to the Sindarin elleth, "why don’t you go through first and then Vardamíriel."

Aearill gave the Valar a bow and with a sigh turned and walked through the gates which had, in the meantime, opened. Finrod was surprised to see that they were now wreathed with a thick fog into which Aearill was quickly swallowed, yet, looking about, he saw nothing but blue skies and the sun.

After about a dozen or so heartbeats, Lord Irmo gestured for Vardamíriel to go through the gates. The elleth looked suddenly frightened, just staring at the gates, and did not move. One of the Maiar, presumably her escort, bent down and whispered something in her ear. Vardamíriel nodded and the Maia took one of her hands and led her to the gates, stopping just before them and giving the elleth a kiss. Then the Maia let go and gave the elleth a gentle push and soon she was swallowed up by the fog. The Maia turned and gave her lord and lady a brilliant, knowing smile, which they returned.

And now Finrod was all alone. Lord Irmo gave him a smile. "So it comes to this, Findaráto. You have been a good pupil, if a little stubborn at times. May you fare well in your new life. Off you go now."

Finrod swallowed nervously, gave the Valar his obeisance, then turned to Ingil, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you," he said softly, suddenly feeling as if the words were inadequate to the situation, but not knowing what else to say.

Ingil smiled warmly. "You are most welcome, Findaráto. May Ilúvatar guide you and bless you in all your endeavors. Be well."

With that, Finrod squared his shoulders and marched through the gates. The fog quickly surrounded him and he lost all direction, but continued on. After a few seconds, though, it cleared and he found himself in a completely different glade where the sun shone brightly. He blinked a couple of times and looked about to get his bearings, wondering if he would even recognize whoever had come to claim him. He saw Aearill and Vardamíriel surrounded by others whom he assumed were their family and friends, but he did not immediately see anyone else.

"Findaráto!"

Suddenly a lithe figure came running to him and before he had time to react he found himself embraced by an elleth who was smothering him with kisses. Her white-blond hair confused him and for a moment he thought it was his beloved sister who held him.

"G-galadriel?" he asked in confusion.

The elleth stood back, her expression, which had been one of joy, was now one of suspicion. "Who is this... this Aladril of whom you speak? Do you not know me, Findaráto?"

"Amarië."

Finrod was saved from answering the elleth by the sound of another’s voice, one that he dimly recognized. He looked up to see two others approaching, their regal bearing and the fact that the ellon’s features were similar to his own, convinced him that he was seeing his parents. He stood there staring at them, mesmerized as certain memories started to float up from his unconscious. In the meantime, Amarië, was frowning.

"He doesn’t seem to remember me," she complained, sounding petulant to Finrod’s ears, as if he had deliberately snubbed her.

"Give him some room, child," the ellon — no, his atar — said.

Finrod just stood there, staring at them, unsure now what he should do or say. He was saved the trouble when his atar reached out and took him into his embrace and kissed him. "Ah, yonya," he whispered, "how I missed thee." Then he stepped back a little and gave him a wistful smile. "Dost thou remember me, child?"

"Thou... thou art my atar," Finrod said softly.

Arafinwë smiled. "Yes, I am, and here is thine ammë." He turned Finrod to the other elleth who now opened her arms to him. He went to her and allowed her to hug him and kiss him, her tears wetting his face.

"Oh, my little Finda," Eärwen whispered through her tears. "I thought I would never see thee again."

"I died," was all Finrod could think to say, as if in speaking the words these people who were his parents yet strangers to him would somehow understand.

There was an audible gasp from Amarië and he felt his ammë stiffen but then she relaxed and gave him another hug and kiss.

"Wouldst thou like to go home, now?" she asked.

Finrod blinked a couple of times trying to remember just what she meant by ‘home’. He had a sudden vision of his rooms in Nargothrond and for a moment grieved for what was forever lost to him. Then, he gathered himself together and gave his ammë a tremulous smile and nodded.

"We have a carriage waiting," Arafinwë said. "Come. Let us go."

They made their way toward where the royal carriage stood surrounded by an honor guard. Arafinwë gently took Finrod’s possessions from him and handed them to one of the guards who secured them to the top of the carriage. Another guard, meantime, opened the carriage door and bowed them all in, Arafinwë gently steering Finrod to enter first, with Eärwen and then Amarië following, before he climbed into the carriage, giving orders as he did so. He sat beside Finrod who was gazing out the other window, ignoring everyone. Eärwen sat across from him with Amarië next to her.

"He still hasn’t told us who this Aladril person is," Amarië muttered, giving Finrod a glare which he pretended not to see, more interested in watching the landscape through which they traveled.

"Enough, Amarië," Arafinwë said sharply. "Let him be."

There was an uneasy silence as Finrod continued to look out the window. Nothing more was said during the rest of their journey.

****

Andondi Entulessë: (Quenya) Great Gates of Return.

Note: Amarië mangles Galadriel’s name because Quenya does not have the initial _g_ sound. Cf. Sindarin galadh ‘tree’ with Quenya alda.