Chapter the Third:

In Which a Conspiracy is Formed and Plans are Laid

Glorfindel wandered about until he found Finrod sitting on a bench in a small garden known as the Prince’s Garden, idly plucking at his harp while Vorondil sat at his feet, a look of contentment on the younger ellon’s face. At first, Glorfindel did not see Vondo until he came closer and then noticed the ellon sitting in the linden tree that shaded Finrod and Vorondil. One foot dangled from the branch on which he was sitting and Glorfindel could tell the ellon was fast asleep.

"Let’s hope he doesn’t fall out," he whispered, giving Finrod and Vorondil a smile. Finrod smiled back and moved over to give Glorfindel some room on the bench, never stopping his playing.

"Uncle Vondo was very upset," Vorondil whispered, looking a little ill. "He... he was remembering how he died."

Glorfindel gave the youngster a sympathetic look. "Remembering one’s death is often the most traumatic thing a Reborn experiences. But as Lord Námo says, it is only a memory and can no longer harm you."

Vorondil nodded. "That’s what Master said as well."

Finrod smiled fondly on Vorondil, who technically was still considered his thrall and would remain so for another eighteen years, but in reality Vorondil was turning out to be a very good healer’s apprentice and everyone had high hopes for him. Already he was becoming mature and responsible, no longer flying off at the least provocation, for which many people — Finrod included — were thankful.

"I’m running out of suitable punishments," he had said with some exasperation to Glorfindel once when the subject came up. Glorfindel had simply smiled in amusement.

"Did you finish writing those invitations?" Finrod asked just then.

Glorfindel nodded. "And I finished checking off the other invitations as well, so everything is set."

"Good," Finrod said.

"What invitations?" Vorondil asked almost at the same time.

"Invitations to the Valar to come to Finrod’s wedding," Glorfindel replied.

Vorondil gave them a puzzled look. "Why would you need to write invitations to the Valar?"

"I think my amillë didn’t think to add them to her list," Finrod answered. "Perhaps with everything else she simply forgot."

"Or maybe she was hoping if she ignored them, they wouldn’t come," Glorfindel retorted with a sly grin.

Vorondil’s eyes widened. "It’s never a good thing to ignore the Valar."

Both Finrod and Glorfindel gave him surprised looks, then Finrod smiled and leaned over to give the younger ellon a quick pat of approval on his shoulder. "Truer words were never spoken." Vorondil beamed.

"So now that we’ve helped with the invitations, what else can we do, do you suppose?" Glorfindel asked.

Finrod shrugged. "Ammë said there were many details to see to. I’m sure she will think of something for us to do."

"I hate just sitting around waiting for someone to come and say, ‘Oh please help’," Glorfindel said with a glower. "As you said, it’s your wedding; you should be the one directing everyone, not Ammë Eärwen."

"But she’s having so much fun telling everyone what to do," Finrod said with a laugh, "and better her than Lady Almáriel."

Both Glorfindel and Vorondil gave convincing shudders at that thought. "Do you think I could help?" Vorondil asked shyly.

"And me."

Everyone looked up to see that Vorondil Herendilion, known to all and sundry as ‘Vondo’ to distinguish him from his brother Aldundil’s son and namesake, was wide awake, looking down at them with curiosity.

"Feeling better?" Finrod asked as Glorfindel stood up to give the ellon room to come down from the tree.

"I guess," Vondo said somewhat diffidently. "Can we play now?"

"In a while," Finrod said with a shake of his head. "Come sit by me and let’s talk about how we can all help with the wedding plans."

Vondo complied as Glorfindel joined Vorondil on the verge.

"Is this a conspiracy?" Vondo whispered, his eyes glowing with excitement at the thought.

"No, Vondo. This is not a conspiracy," Finrod answered as Glorfindel chuckled. "I’ve decided it’s high time I be allowed to have a say about my own wedding."

"So what do you think still needs doing that your input would be considered necessary?" Glorfindel asked.

"Probably not necessary," Finrod replied with a shrug. "At least, as far as others are concerned. But I do want to have some say."

"Well, what part do you have in the wedding itself?" Vondo asked, sounding more like the adult he appeared to be instead of the recently released Reborn that he was.

"According to Ammë, I’m just supposed to show up at the proper time," Finrod said with a snort of disgust.

"Well, that’s boring," Vondo retorted. "What preparations need to be made yet? The wedding is, what, a month away?"

"Seven weeks," Finrod said.

"And three days," Glorfindel added with a smirk.

"So, what do you need for a wedding beside the happy couple?" Vondo asked somewhat rhetorically.

"Food," Vorondil answered promptly.

"Decorations," Glorfindel said next.

"Music," Finrod replied after, looking fondly at the harp which he’d been playing earlier.

"I’m sure all of those things are being arranged by others, though," Vondo pointed out.

Finrod nodded. "Ammë seems to have everything under control. I doubt she’ll want my opinion on such things at this late date."

"Why not?" Glorfindel demanded. "Could they possibly have decided on the menu this early? The cooks won’t start baking until near the time of the wedding else everything will spoil. Decorations aren’t being put up this very minute are they? What would be the point? Same with music. And it’s just occurred to me: has anyone considered just who is going to be there?"

"What do you mean?" Finrod asked in puzzlement.

"Beside the Noldor of Tirion," Glorfindel pointed out, "you’re going to have Vanyar, Teleri, Sindar, Nandor and Tol Eressëan Noldor at this wedding, each of them with different expectations as to things like food and drink, music, even wedding customs. In fact, has anyone really considered the fact that you have relatives from all three clans? Nor can I imagine Lady Almáriel meekly accepting that her daughter’s wedding is being dictated by Noldorin sensibilities. I’m sure she wants some things to reflect the fact that you are marrying into the Vanyarin clan as much as Amarië is marrying into the Noldorin clan."

Finrod raised an eyebrow. Vondo nodded. "He has a point," the ellon said. "I wouldn’t be surprised if your parents are seeing this strictly as a Noldorin affair. Amarië has lived in Tirion for so long, and even I remember that from before, that everyone just thinks of her as being Noldorin."

Finrod’s eyes widened. "I never thought of that," he admitted. "I know my parents have long thought of her as a daughter. I’d forgotten she came back to Tirion to live after my anamillë Indis removed to Lórien and no longer required her services as a lady-in-waiting."

"There, you see?" Glorfindel smiled triumphantly. "But I’ll bet Lady Almáriel hasn’t forgotten a thing. What preparations were being made the first time you and Amarië were supposed to wed?"

Finrod frowned. "I honestly don’t remember," he said after a moment’s thought. "I know the wedding was still about twelve weeks away when the Trees died and everything went by the wayside. Amarië was furious. I later learned that her amillë actually tore up their copy of the betrothal agreement. I have no idea what happened to our copy. Everything was so confused and confusing. Do you know Ingwion sent a letter to Amarië asking her to return to Tirion to convince me not to leave Aman and Intarion and Lirulin had to kidnap her from her parents’ country estate where she was being held a prisoner in order to bring her here?" He shook his head and the other three ellyn stared at him in amazement. "When I think back to those dark times, it seems as if we were all slightly insane," he added.

"No argument there," Glorfindel said somewhat ruefully.

The four ellyn fell silent for a few moments and then Vorondil stirred. "So, what are we going to do to help with the wedding?"

"We’ll need to consult with my ammë...." Finrod started to say but Glorfindel shook his head.

"Why should we?" he asked. "Let’s just decide where we want to help and... and help."

Finrod gave him a jaundiced look. "They’ll think we were interfering."

"And we will be," Vondo said with a laugh. "That’s part of the fun."

"Sador will be coming soon," Glorfindel reminded them. "He’ll want to get in on the fun as well."

Vorondil and Vondo had identical looks of glee on their faces. "Sador always has the best ideas," Vorondil said.

Finrod sighed, realizing he was in the company of two recently released Reborn and one who might as well have been, for none of them seemed all that concerned about stepping on other people’s toes in their enthusiasm to help out. Even Glorfindel, who had been displaying a remarkable degree of maturity of late, was quickly falling back into ‘elfling-mode’. Finrod was beginning to resent having to be the responsible one, the older brother, but then, he reflected, that had been true when he’d been growing up. He’d been almost an adult himself before his brother Aicanáro had been born. Looking at the expectant faces of the three sitting with him, he was reminded of those earlier times when his three younger siblings had been plotting mayhem. Back then, he’d done the correct thing and had squashed their more enthusiastic plans. Now, however.... In seven weeks he was to marry. He suddenly realized that this was probably his last opportunity to ‘play’.

A slow grin crossed his face and there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "You know, you’re absolutely right, Glorfindel. Why should we wait around for others to deign to let us help? And Sador does have the best ideas, Vorondil, but I don’t think we should wait until he arrives before we start taking over the wedding plans."

The other three ellyn looked upon Finrod with varying degrees of amazement, but when they realized he was serious, they all smiled.

"So what’s your plan?" Glorfindel asked in a whisper as he leaned towards Finrod.

"A conspiracy!" Vondo exclaimed with a giggle, rubbing his hands in glee. "I love conspiracies."

Vorondil nodded even as he inched closer to Finrod who chuckled at the looks of anticipation on his friends’ faces. He leaned forward and whispered, "Well, the first thing we need to do...."

****

Later that evening, while everyone was at dinner, Finrod excused himself, ostensibly to go use the privy, but in reality to do some sneaking about. He made his way quickly to his ammë’s study and, lighting a candle, hunted about the desk for what he knew had to be there: the queen’s ‘to-do’ list for the wedding. He searched the papers that were on the desk, confident of finding it quickly, intending on making a copy before returning to his meal, but it wasn’t there, not even shoved into the daybook in which household accounts were recorded. Frowning, he began opening drawers, ruffling through papers and such with no better luck. Silently cursing, he blew out the candle and made his way back to the dining hall.

"Are you all right, dear?" his ammë asked solicitously. "You were gone for quite a time."

"Sorry," Finrod answered, thinking quickly. "One of the servants was having difficulty with... um... opening a cupboard with her hands full so I stopped to lend her a hand."

Eärwen smiled approvingly at her son. "That was sweet of you, Finda," she said and then went back to her conversation with Arafinwë.

Finrod glanced at Glorfindel who arched an eyebrow in query, and shook his head slightly, giving his brother a frown, before returning to his meal. It seemed as if dinner would never end, but finally it did and, barely making their excuses to their elders, Finrod and Glorfindel headed for the prince’s own suite of rooms. It wasn’t until they were safely inside that Glorfindel asked, "Well? Did you get it?"

"It wasn’t there," Finrod replied with a huff. "I searched everywhere, and it wasn’t there."

"Where do you suppose she keeps it, then?" Glorfindel asked.

"Probably tucked in her bodice for safe keeping," Finrod answered with a snarl.

Glorfindel raised an amused eyebrow. "Well, I certainly am not going to try to retrieve it from there," he said with a quirk of his lips and the absurdity of the statement caught Finrod by surprise and he started laughing, his mood lightening.

"Nor I," he said once he calmed down, plopping down on a chair by the fireplace. "I’ll have to think of some way to get it tomorrow."

"You could always ask to see it," Glorfindel said. "Tell Ammë that you are curious to know what else needs to be done."

"I’m sure she would let me see the list, but she won’t let me go off with it," Finrod pointed out.

Glorfindel gave him a wry look. "Then you’ll have to memorize it even as you are reading it."

Finrod sighed. "I suppose I could do that."

Glorfindel was about to make another comment when there was a knock on the door and Finrod called out for the person to enter. When the door opened they found Vorondil and his uncle standing there with identical grins on their faces. Finrod gestured for them to enter and Vondo closed the door.

"I didn’t get the list," Finrod started to say then stopped when Vorondil held up a sheet of paper, looking triumphant. "What’s that?" Finrod asked.

"The list," Vorondil answered, handing the piece of paper over to Finrod. Both Finrod and Glorfindel gave the younger ellon astonished looks. Vondo, they noticed, was looking very smug.

"How did you get the list?" Finrod demanded. "I searched for it during dinner and couldn’t find it."

"That’s because I’d already stolen it," Vondo replied.

"You?" Finrod exclaimed.

"But how....?" Glorfindel said almost at the same time.

Vondo gave them both a sniff. "I climbed through the window, of course," he said as if the answer were obvious.

"From three stories down?" Finrod asked in disbelief.

Vondo shrugged. "It wasn’t difficult. I’ve climbed more challenging places in my days. I waited until the gardens were empty and you were all at dinner and then I made my way up to the queen’s study, found the list and took it."

"But the plan was for Finrod to find the list and make a copy so the queen wouldn’t be the wiser," Glorfindel said.

Vondo shrugged again, looking a bit petulant. "Why should Finrod have all the fun?"

Finrod and Glorfindel exchanged glances. Finrod rolled his eyes.

"So why didn’t you just make a copy the way we’d planned?" Glorfindel then asked.

"Because that’s too boring," came the unexpected answer.

"Excuse me?" Finrod demanded, staring at the Reborn with narrowing eyes. Vondo was still just ‘young’ enough that he was unaware of the danger he was falling into. Vorondil, being older in maturity if not much wiser, felt his triumphant grin melting away as he took in his master’s mood and took a step or two away, letting his uncle shield him.

Vondo merely nodded, his eyes bright with excitement. "You copy it, then I’ll put it back. It’s more fun that way."

For a moment, Finrod just stared at the Reborn, taking in Vondo’s stance, the gleam in his eyes as he anticipated the ‘fun’ he would have of sneaking back into the queen’s study. He covered his face with his hands and sank into his chair, muttering, "Oh for the love of the Valar."

"Well, we got the list," Glorfindel said in a reasonable tone, "we might as well make a copy and then I think I’ll put the original back."

Finrod looked up. "Why you?"

Glorfindel just smiled. "Why should Vondo have all the fun?"

Vorondil snickered and Vondo looked a bit crestfallen. Finrod just sighed. "And how do you propose to return the list without being caught?"

"How do you suppose?" Glorfindel retorted. "You go make a copy while I quiz Vondo on just how he managed to climb up the side of the palace without being seen."

Finrod knew when he was defeated. He nodded and gestured for Vorondil to go find him some paper and ink while Glorfindel took Vondo aside to have a private conversation. Fifteen minutes later all four were trooping outside. Glorfindel had exchanged the more colorful robes which he’d worn to dinner for a green-grey tunic, hiding his golden locks under a hood. They gathered underneath the window of the queen’s study and Vondo pointed out how Vorondil had given him a boost up to the balcony on the second floor and then how he had climbed to the next floor and entered the queen’s study. Finrod whispered to Vorondil to keep an eye out for anyone entering the garden while he and Vondo gave Glorfindel a boost up.

Glorfindel scrabbled up to the balcony which led into a guest bedroom, thankfully empty, then saw just how Vondo had climbed up to the next balcony. Nodding, he hoisted himself up, clinging precariously to the wall. He inched upward until he was able to grab hold of the balustrade and pull himself up the rest of the way. He took a moment to catch his breath, then entered the study, his dark-adapted eyes easily avoiding the furniture as he made his way to the desk, placing the purloined list inside the daybook as Vondo had described and then made his way back out of the room and swiftly climbed back down to the second floor balcony. From there he simply jumped, landing softly on his feet, a triumphant grin on his face.

"Now no one will ever know," he whispered and even Finrod giggled in delight. The four conspirators then hastened away in the opposite direction from which they had come so as to pretend they had indeed been out for an evening constitutional.

None of them noticed the figure standing in the shadows of one of the archways that led from that garden to another, quietly watching their every move.

****

Anamillë: (Quenya) Grandmother.