Chapter the Twenty-First:

In Which Three More are Added to the Wedding List and New Seating Arrangements are Made

Finrod stared at his uncle and cousins in disbelief. "Oh, this just gets better and better," he muttered while Glorfindel and Sador exchanged amused glances.

Nolofinwë looked uncertainly at Lord Irmo. "Is... is there something wrong, lord? Did we say something wrong?"

"No, child," the Lord of Lórien said with a gentle smile. "If you and your sons are ready, we should get you all on your way. You don’t want to miss the wedding, do you?"

Nolofinwë and Findecáno shook their heads. Aracáno, however, wasn’t paying much attention. He was staring at Glorfindel and Sador, looking a little puzzled, as if trying to place them. Then, his expression cleared and he gave them an innocent smile. "Hello. My name is Aracáno. Do you want to play I-hide-and-you-find?"

Glorfindel smiled back. "Hello, Aracáno. My name is Glorfindel and this is Sador. We would love to play, but I think Lord Irmo wants to get rid of us."

Irmo chuckled. "Well, not that quickly, but quickly enough. I want to keep Lórien intact a while longer, so the sooner we get rid of you lot, the better."

Sador stuck his tongue out at the Vala and made a rude noise. Finrod, almost as an automatic gesture, slapped him on the back of his head. "Behave," he said.

"Peace, hanno," Glorfindel said, giving his gwador a stern look. "This isn’t about you."

"That’s right, hanno," Sador said, rubbing the back of his head. "Now give your uncle and cousins proper greetings and at least pretend that you are happy to see them."

Finrod stared at him in disbelief and even Glorfindel blinked in surprise at the ellon’s tone. "You sound just like Atar Arafinwë," he said, almost with awe.

"Comes from dealing with the likes of Morcocáno and Galadhwen," Sador replied with a sour grin.

"Arafinwë!" Nolofinwë exclaimed. "I know that name. Wait! Don’t tell me. He... he is my... my brother!" He gave them a triumphant grin.

"Very good, Nolofinwë," Irmo said approvingly. "Now, why don’t you and your sons go pack and we’ll get you on your way to Tirion."

Nolofinwë and his two sons nodded and headed into the pavilion with Cucuandor following them. The sounds of clothespresses being opened and shut and soft murmurings filled the air while the others waited. Irmo gave Finrod a piercing look. "You think we’re doing this capriciously."

"The timing is suspect," Finrod retorted, speaking low.

"The timing is merely what it is," Irmo replied. "These three were due to be released about now regardless of outside circumstances."

"Anairë should have been here at least," Finrod said, not willing to give in. "She has more right to be here than I."

"Perhaps, but we felt it best that you bring them back to Tirion. Your uncle is nervous and feeling uncertain, though he hides it well. He remembers that he once was a king but he does not know what his reception will be. Here, he’s just another Reborn. Outside Lórien... well, it remains to be seen, doesn’t it?"

"With both Fingolfin and Fingon released, does that mean I can stop being Cáno?" Sador asked before Finrod could reply to Irmo’s words.

They all looked at him with varying degrees of sympathy. "No, Sador," Irmo said gently. "I’m afraid you’re stuck being Cáno for now. Neither Nolofinwë nor Findecáno are ready for that kind of responsibility. You know this."

Sador nodded reluctantly. Glorfindel put an arm around the ellon’s shoulders and gave him a hug. "Is it really that bad?" he asked solicitously.

Sador shrugged. "Not really. It’s just.... I don’t know. I still think I’m the wrong person for the position."

"You’re the only person for the position," Finrod said firmly. "Everyone respects you even if they don’t agree with you. I’ve received any number of reports to that effect."

"I just wish Alassiel could join me in exile," Sador retorted.

"Exile? Is that what you think?" Finrod demanded, looking both troubled and surprised. "Oh, hanno. Why would you think that?" He reached out his arms and Glorfindel released his hold on the younger ellon, allowing Finrod to take him in his embrace and give him a hug.

Sador just shrugged. "It feels that way sometimes."

"Well, if you want to feel exiled, you should come to Aewellond," Glorfindel retorted with a grin. "You’re literally in the back of beyond there. If it weren’t for the road that was built linking us to Alqualondë, we would really feel cut off from the rest of Aman."

"Well, a discussion for another time," Irmo said. "I think our latest Reborn are ready."

Even as he spoke, Nolofinwë, Findecáno and Aracáno exited the pavilion, each carrying a small haversack, all three with expectant looks on their faces. Irmo gave them a beatific smile and gestured for them to approach him, somehow gathering all three into his embrace. He leaned down and gave each a kiss on his forehead.

"You have all done very well here and we’re proud of you," he said. "Now it is time for you to go from here and enter into the life that Ilúvatar meant for you to live. You will have many adventures and there will be those who will guide you and help you along your way. Findaráto is one such, so I want you all to mind him."

"But he’s younger than I am," Aracáno protested. "At least, I think he is."

"Actually, I’m older by two yéni," Finrod said, giving them an amused look.

"But he is older still in that he has been Reborn the longest of all of you," Irmo said. "You are to mind him as you have minded me."

"Which probably wasn’t that much," Glorfindel couldn’t help adding, giving the Vala a knowing smile.

Cucuandor was seen rolling his eyes, though his own expression was one of amusement. Irmo actually laughed. "Come. Let us get you on your way," was all he said and he led them out of the grove. They made their way through Lórien past the lake and into a region rarely visited by any of the Eldar.

Glorfindel frowned. "Why are we going this way, lord?" he asked. "The stables are in the opposite direction."

"It is not what you think," Irmo replied. "This just happens to be the shortest way back to Valmar. You, Sador and Findaráto have been here before, but last time you made this journey from Valmar. Ah, here we are."

They came upon a particular grove and Irmo ushered them all inside. All the Elves stopped just inside the entrance, the three new Reborn looking bemused. Sador’s expression was set and he looked pale. Glorfindel felt a queasiness in his stomach, for he remembered the last time he’d been here. Finrod seemed the least affected by the atmosphere and continued on into the center. Irmo gestured for the others to follow, which they did, some more reluctantly than others.

"There is naught to fear," the Vala assured them. "Rarely are any of the Eldar invited to this particular grove but time is short and this is the quickest way back to Valmar for you. Now, come into a circle and hold hands. I suggest you close your eyes as you may feel a bit disoriented."

They did as they were bid. "It’s all right," Finrod said solicitously to his uncle and cousins, for they all looked nervous and unsure. "Sador, Glorfindel and I have done this before and suffered no ill."

The others nodded and closed their eyes. Glorfindel, knowing what was to come, took several deep breaths and then there was a sense of the universe going sideways and then righting itself and he knew, even before he opened his eyes, that they were no longer in Lórien. He was not surprised to see they were now in a small clearing surrounded by tall hedges and Lady Estë was there waiting for them, giving them all a smile.

"Perfect timing," she said. "Your horses are waiting just outside."

"Wh-where are we?" Nolofinwë asked, his eyes wide with fright. Findecáno and Aracáno looked equally distressed.

"Fear not!" Irmo said. "You are in my demesne still. This is Valmar and we are inside a maze. Follow Estë and we will be out of here shortly. Hold hands and keep your eyes focused on the back of the person before you. It will be easier for you."

"Come along." Estë said as she took Nolofinwë's hand and headed towards a tunnel through the hedge. The others followed, with Irmo taking the rear position. There was no hesitation on Estë’s part and in a matter of a few minutes they were stepping outside of the maze into a garden. Nolofinwë and Findecáno gazed around them in wonder, but Aracáno clutched his haversack and he had a panicky look on his face. Glorfindel, who was the closest to him, wrapped an arm around the ellon’s shoulders.

"It’s all right," he said quietly. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That’s it. Again. All is well. You are safe."

Aracáno nodded, giving him a shy look. Glorfindel smiled back and gave him a hug before releasing him. Irmo stood by, giving them all a clinical look, then nodded. "I would not advise you to try to reach Tirion in record time. If you get there by Isilya, you will still have three days before the wedding. That should be plenty of time to acclimate yourselves. Nolofinwë, Findecáno, Aracáno, I want you to listen to Findaráto, Glorfindel and Sador. They have been where you are now and know what it feels like to be newly released from my care. You will meet people who were once very dear to you. You have no need to fear. They love you and want only the best for you. I know that this is not the best time for this, the wedding may be a bit much for you to handle, but we Valar believe it necessary for you to be there. Now, go with our blessings and we will see you at the wedding. Findaráto, you may lead them out to the Landamallë. Your horses are waiting for you there."

Estë took each of them in her embrace and kissed them, murmuring words of love and encouragement before releasing them. The Elves gave the two Valar their obeisance, then, Finrod led them through the garden and out onto the avenue where they found a couple of Maiar and six horses waiting for them. In a matter of minutes, they were mounted and heading towards the eastern gate and on their way to Tirion.

****

It had been mid-morning when they left Lórien, but in Valmar it was nearly noon. The difference in time was disconcerting to them all but as the day progressed, they forgot about it. There was little talking during their ride, for, in spite of Lord Irmo’s advice, Finrod was pushing them a bit more than he needed to, but no one begrudged him. Thus they made good time and only stopped when the sky was full of stars. As they were sitting around a fire waiting for the stew to cook, Nolofinwë peppered Finrod with questions, the two of them speaking in rapid Sindarin. Aracáno tried to follow the conversation but gave up after awhile. Sador, sitting next to him, gave him a sympathetic smile and spoke softly to him in Quenya about his own misadventures in learning the language of Aman. Glorfindel was tending the stew as he listened to the conversations around him, noticing that Finrod was being purposely vague in his answers to his uncle’s questions.

"The stew smells good."

Glorfindel looked up from adding a bit more wood to the fire to see Findecáno standing there. "It should be ready soon."

"You and Sador both called my cousin ‘hanar’ but you are not kin, that I know of," the eldest son of Nolofinwë said after a moment, speaking Sindarin. It was not an accusation, merely a statement and Glorfindel could see the questions in the ellon’s eyes.

Glorfindel nodded. "I met Finrod in Mandos and we became gwedyr," he explained. "When I was finally released from Lórien, there were none to take me in except for Finrod and his family. The same was true for Sador, whom I befriended in Lòrien. Finarfin adopted us unofficially. In fact, Sador, being as young as he was, became his ward. We all got used to referring to one another as ‘brothers’."

Fingon nodded. "The others... his own brothers... they have not....?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "They still reside in Mandos and his sister remains in Ennor."

"Turgon and Aredhel are also in Mandos," Fingon said with a sigh.

"At least you and Aracáno have each other," Glorfindel said.

Fingon nodded. "I think the stew is ready. Let me help dish it out."

****

The next day they continued on their way. Finrod did not set such a grueling pace as before and he and Nolofinwë rode together now, reminiscing about the people and places they once knew. Sador apparently had taken Aracáno under his wing and his brother was happily giving the Noldo a Sindarin lesson that left them both laughing at Aracáno’s mistakes. That left Findecáno to ride with Glorfindel which he did not mind. He remembered Fingon at the Nirnaeth and had grieved to see so puissant an Elf fall before the Enemy. They did not speak much between themselves for Glorfindel could see the other was deep in thought and gave him the space he needed. When Findecáno did speak, it was to ask questions about his brother Turgon and his sister Aredhel. Glorfindel readily spoke of their lives in Gondolin, but shied away from how they had all died, preferring instead to speak of the years of peace that they had enjoyed. Of Tuor, Idril and Eärendil, he spoke not at all.

****

The next day found them on the outskirts of Tirion. Without comment, Finrod led them off the main road at one point and they found themselves riding along a tree-lined lane. Sador and Glorfindel exchanged knowing glances, for they recognized where Finrod was leading them. Eventually they found themselves coming upon the estate owned by Herendil, who welcomed them with some bemusement, for he was too young to remember Nolofinwë or his sons. He agreed to send a messenger to Tirion at Finrod’s request while the travelers were shown to baths so they could freshen up.

An hour later Glorfindel and Sador followed Finrod and Herendil out into the courtyard in time to see Arafinwë riding up the lane with Eärwen. Some distance behind them he could see several other riders trying to catch up and Glorfindel realized with some amusement that the King and Queen had outridden their escort. Finrod had decided to meet his parents first and Aldundil and his ammë volunteered to help keep the newly-released Reborn occupied in the meantime.

"Where are they?" Arafinwë cried out before he even came to a halt. Grooms were on hand to take the King’s horse and help Eärwen from hers. "Where is my brother?"

"Peace, Atto," Finrod said, grabbing Arafinwë by the shoulders to stay him from running into the house. "Vandacalimë and Aldundil are entertaining them. You need to calm down. You know how upset Reborn get when confronted with emotional people."

Arafinwë nodded reluctantly, taking several deep breaths before Finrod released him.

"How did you get back here so quickly?" Eärwen asked as she joined her husband. "By rights you couldn’t possibly be here until perhaps the night before the wedding."

"You may thank Lord Irmo," Finrod said with a quirk of his lips. "You remember that maze of his?"

Arafinwë and Eärwen both nodded, their eyes wide. Arafinwë gave his son an uncertain look. "How... how are they?"

Finrod actually smiled. "Why don’t we go see?" And he took his atar’s arm and led him into the house while Glorfindel offered Eärwen his arm. Sador and Herendil followed them. They made their way to the main gathering room where Vandacalimë had ordered some refreshments laid out, but there was no sign of anyone.

"That’s odd," Finrod said with a frown. "I left them right here not ten minutes ago."

"Perhaps they went out into the gardens," Herendil suggested, and led the way through one of the arched openings on one side of the room that led out into the gardens. As they wandered down the path they could hear laughter ahead and no one was all that surprised to find the three Reborn happily taking turns swinging from a large maple tree while Aldundil and Vandacalimë looked on with amusement. At the moment it was Nolofinwë swinging while Aracáno was practically jumping up and down, saying, "My turn, now, Atto, my turn."

Almost as one Finrod and the others stopped several feet away where they were not immediately noticed. "Oh, Valar," Arafinwë whispered almost in dismay. Finrod gave his atar a sympathetic look.

Just then, Findecáno happened to look around. "Hey! We have visitors." He came bounding over, his face wreathed with a wide grin. "Do you want to play?" he asked.

"Fin?" Arafinwë said, looking upon his nephew whom he had last seen trudging northward towards his doom.

Findecáno nodded slowly, the smile slipping from his face, replaced by a look of puzzlement. "Do I know you?"

Arafinwë smiled. "Perhaps. You used to call me ‘Uncle Arfin’ when you were very small."

Findecáno frowned, then shook his head. "Sorry. I don’t remember."

"It’s all right, child," Arafinwë said gently. "There’s no rush. I’m Findaráto’s atar and this is his ammë."

By now Nolofinwë and Aracáno had joined them. Aracáno’s expression was one of wariness and Sador, noticing, went to him and drew him into his embrace, quietly speaking to him words of assurance. Nolofinwë and Arafinwë stood there staring at one another while everyone else watched the meeting of the two brothers, waiting to see who would make the first move. And then Nolofinwë’s expression crumpled and he burst into tears.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry...."

Immediately, Arafinwë took him into his embrace. "No, hanno. There’s nothing to be sorry about."

"But... but I deserted you," the Reborn wailed.

"No, hanno," Arafinwë insisted. "You did not desert me. If anything, I deserted you. Now, dry your tears unless they be tears of joy, for this is a day for rejoicing, not sorrow."

"You... you still love me?" Nolofinwë asked as he wiped the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his tunic, causing both Eärwen and Vandacalimë to cluck in dismay, the latter fishing out a piece of linen from her bodice and handing it to the Reborn.

"I never stopped loving you," Arafinwë assured him, kissing him on his forehead. "Now why don’t you give your greeting to Eärwen — you remember Eärwen, don’t you? — while I say a proper hello to my nephews." With that he handed his brother over to Eärwen, who hugged him. Arafinwë turned to Aracáno, who was still looking wary and unsure.

Arafinwë gave him a warm smile. "So, Ara, do you still like to paint?"

Aracáno gave him a surprised look and then he smiled broadly. "Oh yes! Painting class was my favorite, but everyone else hated it. I don’t know why."

Several people started laughing. "You’re probably one of the few who actually enjoyed it, then," Finrod said. "I spent a lot of time trying to avoid it myself. Gave the Maiar and my minders a merry chase through Lórien, let me tell you."

"Why don’t we go back inside and have some refreshments before you return to the city?" Vandacalimë suggested.

"But I didn’t get a chance to swing on the tree," Aracáno protested. "Atto and Fin got to swing, but I didn’t."

"Don’t be such a baby," Findecáno said in disgust and Aracáno gave him a murderous look and would have attacked him, but Glorfindel intervened, grabbing the ellon’s arm and pulling him away from his brother.

"You can swing later when we get to Tirion," he said. "I know the perfect maple tree and I’ll take you there, just the two of us. You won’t have to share with your atar or brother."

"Truly?" Aracáno asked, his eyes now dancing with delight.

"Truly," Glorfindel said, "but only if you come inside with the rest of us and have some refreshments before we go."

Aracáno nodded, sticking his tongue out at his brother, as if to say ‘See. I’m special’, and allowed Glorfindel to steer him back inside while the others followed, the Once-born shaking their heads in bemusement at the volatility of Reborn emotions.

Arafinwë, Nolofinwë and Findecáno walked together, their arms linked, with Finrod and Eärwen behind them while Sador brought up the rear with Herendil, Vandacalimë having gone ahead to alert the servants. Finrod noticed his ammë frowning. "What’s wrong?" he asked.

The Queen gave an exasperated sigh. "I was just thinking what a bother all this is. I’m going to have to re-do the seating arrangements all over again and no one is going to be happy about it. And whatever do we tell Anairë when she comes?"

Nolofinwë, having overheard Eärwen, gave his brother a puzzled look. "Who’s Anairë?"

****

Words are Sindarin:

Hanar: Brother, the equivalent of the Quenya háno (colloquial form: hanno).

Gwedyr: Plural of gwador: Sworn-brother.

Ennor: Middle-earth.