Chapter the Fifteenth:

In Which They Go on a Picnic and Finrod Let’s His Hair Down

"It was my own stupid fault!" Aldundil groused, gingerly shifting his left leg that was in a splint to a more comfortable position as he lay on a bed in the healing wing of the palace where he’d been brought. His head was bandaged as well and he was drinking willow bark tea, grimacing more at its bitter taste than at the pain he was feeling.

Everyone was there: his parents, Herendil and Vandacalimë, his brother, Vondo, and son, Vorondil, not to mention the Noldorin and Vanyarin royals, with a very pale Finrod clutching at Glorfindel’s arm to keep himself steady.

"So what exactly happened?" Arafinwë asked, frowning at his son staggering. He had only just come to, nearly three hours after his collapse, and had insisted on seeing Aldundil immediately once he learned where he was. "Here, yonya, sit down before you fall down," he said not unkindly, pointing to a chair and Glorfindel helped him to sit. Finrod gave a grateful sigh as Vorondil hastily poured some water from a pitcher into a goblet and handed it to him.

"We were racing," Aldundil admitted, "Vorondil and Vondo and I, through that last stretch of woods before the road opens up into farmland. Silly really, but these two wanted to and I... I’m getting too old for such nonsense."

The others chuckled as Vondo stuck his tongue out at his brother.

"Anyway," Aldundil continued ruefully, "I was ahead and like a fool, I looked back to see where the others were and... and didn’t see the tree limb." Now his expression was more embarrassed.

"The tree was really sorry it didn’t move the limb out of your way fast enough, Atto," Vorondil said in a commiserating tone.

"I’m sure it was," Aldundil said, giving his son a fond smile.

"I still don’t understand why you fainted, Findaráto," Arafinwë said then, looking at his son whose complexion was less pasty and he no longer looked like — what was that expression the Atani always use? — ah, yes: like death warmed over. He had never really understood what they meant by that, but looking at Finrod at this moment, he was beginning to have a glimmering.

"The Life Oath..." Finrod started to say then stopped to take another sip of water before continuing. "When Aldundil hit his head... I felt it." He refused to look at anyone.

Aldundil grimaced. "Sorry, aranya. I had no idea...."

Finrod looked up. "Of course you didn’t," he insisted, "nor do I lay any blame. It’s just a... a consequence of the Life Oath, at least on my part. I have no idea if any of those who’d taken Life Oath to me in Beleriand felt my death."

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence and then Ingwion gave Aldundil a grin. "Well, you’re in good company, my friend, as my cousin Intarion is lying in the next room with his own head injury."

Aldundil wasn’t the only one to give them a shocked look. "What happened?" more than one voice exclaimed and Ingwion proceeded to explain the circumstances surrounding Intarion’s injuries. Aldundil and his family listened in dismay.

"I had no idea such rumors were going around," Herendil said with a sigh.

"None of us did," Arafinwë assured him. "But now that we do, we are in a position to lay them to rest."

Herendil nodded, his eyes narrowing. "I think I will have to pay closer attention to servants’ gossip from now on."

"Oh?" Arafinwë asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Herendil shrugged. "Nothing of consequence, or at least it didn’t seem so at the time, but now, in light of what we’ve just heard...." he paused and shook his head. "Well, a discussion for another time. If you will excuse me your Majesties, I, for one, am looking forward to a long, hot soak even if these two are not." He gestured to Vondo and Vorondil.

"Oh, I’m ready for a soak, myself, Atar," Vondo said and Vorondil nodded as well. Aldundil just sighed, leaning back on the pillows propping him up. "And I’m reduced to sponge baths for the next week or so," he said morosely.

"Well, as you pointed out, it’s your own stupid fault," Finrod couldn’t help saying, giving his vassal a wicked grin.

The other’s chuckled and just about then, Vardamir walked in, announcing that Intarion was now awake, but he was going to limit visitors to Ingwion and Arafinwë. "And only for five minutes," he said. "I don’t want him overexcited."

Ingalaurë gave Ingwion a pleading look. "Please, can I see him, too?"

Ingwion gave Vardamir an enquiring look. The healer frowned. "Can you promise not to get upset or upset Intarion in any way?" he asked the Reborn.

Ingalaurë nodded. "I promise."

"Very well. Five minutes, no more," Vardamir admonished them. "If he has a restful night and there are no complications, I will release him tomorrow. He can join you for lunch."

Arafinwë nodded, gave his farewells to Aldundil and his family and ushered the others out, with himself, Ingwion and Ingalaurë following Vardamir while Eärwen insisted that Glorfindel take Finrod back to his rooms to rest. "You’re still not recovered from your shock, dear," she said gently, giving him a light kiss on the forehead. "I suggest you have a quiet dinner in your suite and retire early." It was a testament to Finrod’s state that he merely nodded and allowed himself to be led back to his rooms where Glorfindel fussed over him, insisting that, even if Finrod didn’t want to retire to his bedroom, he should just lie quietly on the settee in the sitting room while he, Glorfindel, waited on him.

"I’ll send for dinner and it’ll just be the two of us," he suggested.

"What about Ingwion and Ingalaurë, not to mention Vondo and Vorondil?"

"I’ll ask Ingwion to keep Atar and Ammë company and the other two will be eating with Herendil and Vandacalimë. I heard her tell Vorondil that she had had all his favorite dishes made for their dinner."

Finrod chuckled. "Ginger biscuits for the first course, ginger biscuits for the second...."

Glorfindel laughed. "I’m sure Vandacalimë will insist he eat something green in between."

Finrod joined him in laughter and then shook his head in dismay. "I don’t remember ever experiencing anything like that before, at least not with such intensity."

"But you’ve known when one of yours had been injured or killed before," Glorfindel said, making it more a statement than a question.

"Yes, but now that I’m thinking about it, it was always in the midst of battle."

"And when you’re fighting for your life, all other considerations are shunted aside," Glorfindel said with a nod of understanding. "Well, I’m glad Aldundil only suffered a broken leg and a knock on the head. If he’d died, and so close to the wedding...."

Finrod nodded, leaning back on the arm of the settee. "The same goes for Intarion."

"And that would have been a greater tragedy. Well, we never got lunch, so why don’t I have someone bring us something now and then I think a good night’s rest is in order."

Finrod agreed and two hours later, having eaten, he went to his room and was asleep in minutes. Rather than retire to his own rooms, Glorfindel remained in the sitting room quietly reading, waiting for the inevitable nightmare that was sure to plague his gwador.

Sometime near midnight, Finrod woke screaming.

****

The only people who looked as if they’d gotten any rest at all were Arafinwë and Eärwen. Finrod and Glorfindel stumbled into the dining room for breakfast the next morning to find that Ingwion and Ingalaurë were not joining them.

"Ingil had nightmares about Intarion and, from what I could gather from Ingwion, it was mixed up with memories of his own death," Arafinwë explained when Finrod asked after his cousins.

"I should have been summoned," Finrod said with a frown.

"Nornoros was there," Arafinwë said with a shrug, "and I suspect your own rest was disturbed as well." He gave his son a shrewd look and Finrod reluctantly agreed.

"Will you still be putting together that dinner for Vondo and Vorondil?" Eärwen asked. "Perhaps you should wait another day or so until everyone’s recovered enough. A day of quiet I think is in order."

"You’ll get no argument from me," Glorfindel said with a grin. "What about you, Finrod?"

Finrod shrugged. "I guess." His attitude was one of indifference, or perhaps, resignation, and the others sensed that he wasn’t really ‘there’, for his expression was remote, as if he was only half-listening to the conversation while his mind wandered.

Arafinwë and Eärwen exchanged glances and then the king seemed to come to a decision, for he summoned Marilla from the kitchen and asked that a picnic lunch be put together. "My lady wife and I, along with our sons, will be spending the day in Finwë Park."

Finrod gave them a startled glance and started to protest, but Glorfindel spoke up. "I think that’s an excellent idea, Atar. May we go hawking?"

Arafinwë nodded. "Yes. I think we might do that."

"What about Ingwion and Ingalaurë?" Finrod asked. "Will they be coming? And don’t forget Intarion. Everyone seems to forget him."

"I haven’t forgotten him, yonya," Arafinwë said gently. "I spoke with Vardamir earlier and he’s decided that Intarion should have one more day of rest. When I spoke with Ingwion, he agreed to keep his brother and Intarion company. He thinks Ingalaurë will most likely be sleeping half the day anyway as Vardamir was finally summoned and gave him a sleeping draught."

"I should look in on him," Finrod said with a sigh. "It’s my job, after all."

"For today, it is not," Arafinwë said firmly. "He is in good hands and Vardamir has had enough experience with Reborn to handle anything that might arise. Today, let’s just concentrate on us." When Finrod reluctantly nodded, Arafinwë continued. "You and I have court this morning, but I will cancel the rest of our schedule. We should both be done with our duties by the fourth hour. We can leave then. Glorfindel can help your ammë with the arrangements in the meantime."

"And I will see to the picnic, your Majesty," Marilla said, giving them a bow and leaving.

So it was decided and in short order they finished breaking their fast and went about their duties. Glorfindel promised Finrod he would look in on Ingwion and Ingalaurë. "And Intarion, too," he added and Finrod had to be content with that as he hurried off to attend to his duties.

****

Court for both Arafinwë and Finrod was mercifully short, so there were no delays. Glorfindel had in the meantime spoken with the grooms and the falconers and the guards that would of necessity be joining the family on their outing so that everything was in order when Arafinwë, Eärwen and Finrod joined him in the courtyard fronting the royal stables. Marilla was there with two large baskets filled with food and drink which were being secured in a small wagon that also contained a pavilion and folding camp chairs and other items for the royal family’s comfort. The royal falconers were on hand, carrying the peregrines favored by Arafinwë and Finrod, as well as the gyrfalcon that was Eärwen’s preferred bird. Glorfindel settled for one of the red-tailed hawks that were usually given to youngsters first learning the art of falconry, saying he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the more temperamental birds.

Then they were on their way. The supply wagon with most of the guards and servants would take the street route to the park while the royal family took the tunnel that connected the palace with the park. Arafinwë had already given instructions as to where the pavilion should be set up. They planned to hunt for a time before stopping for lunch.

Once at the park, they headed off into an area that was favored for hawking and let the birds go, idly chatting amongst themselves. As they wended their way through the park, Finrod felt himself relaxing, releasing tension he hadn’t realized was there. He noticed Glorfindel giving him a searching look and smiled one of his brilliant smiles and saw his gwador visibly relax himself, giving back his own smile.

They hunted for an hour or so before heading to the pavilion set up beside a small lake that had been crafted by the Noldor where swans and other water fowl swam lazily under the sun. The horses were given over to the grooms who were dismissed, along with the guards who had gone with them on the hunt and the falconers, with Arafinwë’s thanks, taking with them the birds and rabbits which had been caught. The guards who had gone with the supply wagon were stationed discreetly around the area to keep others away. The royal family entered the pavilion where servants offered them wine as they sat in the folding camp chairs that faced the lake, allowing them to enjoy the view. A trestle had been set up along one side on which sat various covered dishes for the picnic. A smaller pavilion had been placed at a discreet distance from the site in which a portable privy was set up with basins of water for their refreshment. Once the wine had been served, Eärwen dismissed the servants with her thanks, letting them know that they were free to enjoy their own picnic, for Marilla had sent enough food for all. The guards had already eaten, knowing that they would be required to be on duty once their Majesties returned to the pavilion.

For a time Arafinwë, Eärwen, Finrod and Glorfindel sat quietly sipping their wine and relaxing. Then Finrod, giving a sigh of contentment, set his wine down and began undoing his warrior braids, spontaneously breaking into song as he did so, singing in Sindarin. Glorfindel recognized the tune and joined him in the chorus even as he was undoing his own braids while Arafinwë and Eärwen exchanged satisfied smiles as they listened to the two singing. It was a haunting melody and even those who did not understand the words were moved by them.

          "Ae cenin, cenin in eryd dhaer,

          Ae cenin, cenin in eryd vraind,

          Ae cenin, cenin in imlaid,

          Cenin in aegais nuin hîth."

"What is it you were singing?" Arafinwë asked after the last chorus was sung.

"It is a song of the Exiles," Finrod answered readily enough as he ran his fingers through his hair, combing out the tresses. "In Eryd in Tymmin di Chîth, or ‘The Mist Covered Mountains’, the mountains, of course, being the Pelóri. Macalaurë composed it not too long after we reconciled with the Fëanoreans."

"I still find it hard to believe that my brother was willing to forgive Fëanáro," Arafinwë said with a shake of his head.

"Fëanáro? No, he never forgave Uncle," Finrod said, "and he was dead before we ever reached the shores of Beleriand. No. Uncle Nolofinwë forgave Maitimo and Macalaurë and the others. And Findecáno’s rescue of Maitimo from Melkor went a long way towards healing any rifts between our two groups."

"Did you not welcome Maitimo and Macalaurë when they joined you in the War of Wrath?" Glorfindel asked Arafinwë.

"Reluctantly, and only because there was little choice, and in the end they still betrayed us, betrayed me." He shook his head and then sighed, giving them a rueful look. "Not the sort of conversation I anticipated having on such a fine day as this."

"Then let us speak of other things, my love," Eärwen said. She looked at Finrod, giving him a sad smile. "I am sorry for all that has happened lately with the wedding preparations. I fear I have not appreciated your frustrations enough, and now I wonder if Amarië is feeling equally thwarted."

"Glorfindel wondered if her being sent back to Vanyamar was on purpose, to keep her out of the way while you and Almáriel designed the wedding ceremony to suit yourselves," Finrod replied.

"Well, I didn’t say it in just those words," Glorfindel protested in defense. "I know you only have the best of intentions, Ammë, though I can’t speak for Lady Almáriel, and I just wondered."

"When your ammë and I were to be married," Arafinwë said before Eärwen could speak, "your Anamilli almost came to blows over the wedding, and I’m afraid my atar didn’t help matters."

"What happened?" Finrod and Glorfindel asked almost as one.

Arafinwë chuckled and Eärwen’s expression could only be described as gleeful. "What didn’t happen!" she exclaimed. "My ammë insisted that some of the Telerin customs be observed, but Indis was adamantly against that idea, saying that, since I was marrying into the Noldorin clan, that I had better get used to doing things ‘the proper way’, as she put it."

"Oho!" Finrod said with a laugh. "I can just see her saying that, too."

"I’m afraid that when Ammë married Atar, she set out to become more Noldorin than the Noldor in an attempt to win their approval," Arafinwë added, looking rueful. "She always had the specter of Míriel before her and I fear, in the beginning, many kept comparing her to Atar’s first wife. It could not have been easy for her and in the end she simply decided to make sure everyone forgot she was a Vanya."

"So what did Finwë do?" Glorfindel asked.

"Hmph," Eärwen said with a huff. "What he always did: made pronouncements right and left, telling everyone which way was up and the Valar help the fool who didn’t agree with him. As I recall, Fëanáro refused to even attend the ceremony, though Nerdanel insisted on doing so, along with the children."

"What about Anatar Olwë?" Finrod asked, his expression one of amazement.

"Oh, Olwë just sat back and enjoyed the show," Arafinwë answered with a laugh. "I understand he, Lindarion and Falmaron laid bets as to who would throw the first punch, though it never really came to that."

"So who won?" Glorfindel asked.

"No one," Arafinwë said. "Or rather, Eärwen and I did, though no one ever knew."

"Atto suspected," Eärwen said to him.

"But he never came out and asked," Arafinwë responded.

"What are you talking about?" Finrod demanded.

Arafinwë and Eärwen exchanged looks that were unreadable to the two younger Elves. Eärwen gave her husband a small nod and Arafinwë sighed. "Everyone was yelling at everyone else and no one was bothering to ask us what we wanted. Personally, I didn’t care, but your ammë was very upset by all the haranguing. Finally, I suggested that we simply go somewhere private and have our own ceremony." He gave them a slightly wicked grin. "We managed to sneak away to the hunting lodge where we ate snails — yes, we followed that particular custom — and honey cakes before consummating our marriage. Then we returned to Tirion before anyone realized we were gone. The public ceremony took place about a week later and it was completely Noldorin in style, much to Lirillë’s disgust and Olwë’s amusement."

"So you see, dear, your atar and I beat you to it," Eärwen said with a grin. "If you want to run away with Amarië, I’ll pack the snails and honey cakes for you."

"And I’ll send for Eärendil to come pick you up in Vingilot and bring you back in good time for the wedding," Arafinwë added with his own grin.

For a moment Finrod just stared at his parents in shock and then he threw back his head and started laughing, the sound of it startling the birds on the lake, causing them to take flight. The others joined him and when they eventually calmed down, Finrod stood up and leaned over to kiss his ammë. "Thank you, both of you. I needed that."

"And I promise, you and I will sit down and discuss the wedding arrangements together, all right?" Eärwen said. Finrod nodded.

"Well, now that that’s settled, let’s eat," Glorfindel declared and they all agreed to that.

Anar was slipping into the west by the time they were ready to return to the palace, all of them feeling replete and relaxed.

****

Words are Quenya.

Anamilli: Plural of anamillë: Grandmother.

Anatar: Grandfather.

Note: In Eryd in Tymmin di Chîth, literally, ‘The Mountains that are Covered beneath Mist’. ‘The Mist Covered Mountains’ is a real-world song also known by its Gaelic title ‘Chì mì na mòr-bheanna’. The Rankin Family does a lovely rendition of it that can be heard on YouTube. And for the curious, the Quenya version would be: iOronti yar Túpinë undu Hísië.

The chorus given in Sindarin translates as:

     O I see, I see the great mountains,

     O I see, I see the high mountains,

     O I see, I see the deep valleys,

     I see the peaks under the mist.