Chapter the Twenty-Fifth:

In Which Aracáno Drowns and Findecáno Reminisces

It was Glorfindel who suggested they head for a particular street where various shops were situated. "I’m sure we can find something appropriate for the wedding and for Sador’s begetting day," he said and the others agreed.

As they walked, Glorfindel and the three Once-born kept a close eye on Nolofinwë and his sons. Glorfindel could see that all three were finding it difficult to remain in character as guards, for they were gaping at what they saw and muttering things like, "I don’t remember that fountain" or "That’s where we met those ellith who were so cute" or "I think I know that person".

"Easy now," Laurendil said quietly, not actually looking at the ‘guards’ as they walked through a square towards the street where Glorfindel was leading them. "The city has changed in some ways since you were last here and you are all bound to recognize some people, or think you recognize them."

"Stay calm," Gilvagor said. "Remember, you’re supposed to be palace guards, not some farmers from the Southern Fiefdoms."

"Hey! I used to live in the Southern Fiefdoms," Intarion said in mock protest.

"And there you go," Gilvagor retorted with a laugh. "You’ve just proved my point."

That made Ingalaurë snigger and Glorfindel was glad to see Nolofinwë and the other two ellyn relax somewhat and gave Ingwion a wink. "Here we are," he said, pointing ahead. "There are several good shops along this way."

They stopped for a moment to get their bearings. Glorfindel noticed Aracáno looking a little paler than he should and surreptitiously stepped closer to him. "Take a deep breath," he whispered, not actually looking at the ellon, "and another. That’s it. There is nothing to fear. You’re safe and with friends."

Aracáno nodded even as he continued taking deeper breaths than normal until his color returned and the panic he’d been feeling faded. "Thank you," he whispered, not looking at anything in particular.

Glorfindel nodded. "I’ve been where you are. I promise it does get easier. It just takes time to remember how it was before."

"So which shop should we invade first?" Ingalaurë asked.

"And it would be an invasion if we all went in together," Ingwion said with a smile.

"Yet, dare we split up?" Laurendil asked, casting a clinical eye over the three recent Reborn.

"And guards usually stand outside the shops while their masters are within," Nolofinwë said. "I remember that much protocol."

"But if we’re outside, we can’t see what to buy for Findaráto and Amarië," Findecáno protested, then gave them all a puzzled look. "Do I know Amarië?"

"Yes, and you will remember her eventually," Ingwion assured him. "Don’t force the memories. Let them come when they will."

"Look, while usually guards remain outside, it’s not necessarily required or demanded," Glorfindel said. "There are nine of us with three pretending to be guards. Why don’t we split into three groups and each of us take one of the guards? Ingwion, you and Ingalaurë can be one group while Gilvagor and Intarion are another."

"And I’ll take this one," Ingwion said, pointing to Nolofinwë, being careful not to speak the ellon’s name there on the street.

"And we’ll take this one," Gilvagor said, pointing to Findecáno.

"And that means we get to have you," Laurendil said with a smile at Aracáno, who’d been looking very sad, for it seemed to him that his atar and brother were always getting picked first in their games, "which is well, for, as I recall, you have better taste than your brother or your atar."

Aracáno suddenly brightened at that and stuck his tongue out at Findecáno who returned the favor.

"All right, you two," Nolofinwë said, sounding very mature at that moment. "Stop it or I’ll stop it for you."

Several eyebrows rose at that and Nolofinwë smirked. "I do remember being an atto," he said smugly.

"Only when he’s not being an elfling," Laurendil said with a knowing grin. Nolofinwë gave them a sheepish look.

"Well, let’s get going then," Ingwion said. "I see there is a silversmith here. I want to check that shop out first. Shall we agree to meet in an hour’s time, say at that tavern we passed in the square back there?"

"The Laurel and Harp," Glorfindel said with a nod. "They do a very good fried fruit pastry."

Everyone perked up at that and it was agreed to meet and have dinner there rather than at the palace since it was late enough in the day.

"Let’s check out the leatherworker’s shop," Laurendil suggested to Glorfindel. "I want to get Sador’s gift first and then we can concentrate on helping our friend here find the right wedding gift."

"I see there is a goldsmith," Findecáno said. "Can we go there first? I want to see if I can get some gold strands to plait in my hair. I seem to recall I liked braiding my hair with gold, but they don’t let you wear anything fancy in Lórien. I had to make do with some stupid yellow ribbon." He gave them a sour face.

Gilvagor nodded. "Let’s go then, and perhaps you will find something appropriate as a wedding gift there as well."

And so the three groups split up, each going to a different shop. At the leatherworker’s shop Glorfindel and Laurendil discussed an appropriate gift for Sador, deciding on a new belt for Sador, while Aracáno stood by the door trying to pretend indifference as was proper with a guard. He kept eyeing the shop’s contents with a wistful look and Glorfindel could tell he was just aching to explore the shop with them.

"Let’s make this quick," he whispered to Laurendil. "Our guard is getting anxious."

Laurendil stole a glance at Aracáno who was shifting from one foot to the other. He picked up a couple of the belts he was looking at and walked over to the Reborn. "What do you think, my friend? Do you think Lord Sador would like either of these?"

Aracáno gave him a surprised look which mutated to one of gratitude and he examined the two belts carefully. "I do not know Lord Sador well, but he strikes me as one who cares little for ostentatiousness. Not like my brother," he couldn’t help adding with a smirk and Laurendil chuckled. "I think this one with the simple knotwork design would suit him better. This other, while quite lovely, is too ornamental."

"Thank you. I think you are correct," Laurendil said, giving him a nod before turning to speak with the shopkeeper to discuss the price. Glorfindel stayed by Aracáno, giving him a wink and a nod of approval. Aracáno began to relax a bit more. In a few moments, Laurendil’s purchase was made and they were stepping outside the shop.

"Where do you want to go now?" Glorfindel asked.

"Let’s try that pottery shop," Laurendil said, pointing further down the lane. "I’d like to compare their work with Sador’s and Netilmírë’s."

Glorfindel grinned. "There can be no comparison, surely?"

"Perhaps not," Laurendil said with a shrug, "but that’s not to say that other potters are not equally talented and should be rightly patronized."

Glorfindel nodded, accepting the rebuke. "Well, then, let us go and see what we can find."

The pottery shop was three doors down on the left. Entering, the three ellyn found themselves surrounded by vases and bowls and figurines in all shapes and sizes, in a myriad of colors, from fine china to earthenware.

"You might find something here that is appropriate," Laurendil said quietly to Aracáno who simply nodded, looking around.

"I’m almost afraid to move," the ellon said in a tight whisper. "There are so many fragile things here and I still feel clumsy at times. I’ve not quite gotten used to a hröa yet. Atto says it’s because I’m so tall but Fin says it’s because I’ve always been clumsy, which is why I fell in the Ice." He gave them a chagrined look. "Why are older brothers so mean?"

Glorfindel and Laurendil exchanged amused looks. "Your brother was probably not feeling well when he said that to you," Glorfindel surmised. "I’m sure he was sorry he said it as soon as he spoke."

Aracáno nodded. "He did apologize. He said he’d been dreaming of the Ice. I... I try not to dream of the Ice."

"Neither do I," Glorfindel said in a commiserating tone, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

"If you feel uncomfortable, we can leave," Laurendil said. "I can always come back here on my own and there are other shops that are suitable for finding a wedding gift."

"No. I’m all right," Aracáno insisted, straightening. "I’ll just stand here where I can see most of the shop and if I see something I like, I’ll tell you."

"Good enough. Why don’t you stay with him Glorfindel and pretend you’re bored while I look around. I do want to compare this work with Sador’s and perhaps even find another gift for him. He does lovely work, but like most artists, he specializes in one area and lets others excel in other areas of the craft. He might appreciate a piece from another artist."

Glorfindel nodded. "No doubt."

So Laurendil wandered about while the two Reborn stood to one side out of the way, quietly speaking of what they remembered of crossing the Helcaraxë. Aracáno had died in the same mishap that had taken his brother Turucáno’s wife.

"I’m glad Itarildë was saved," Aracáno said at one point. "When Uncle Arafinwë was planning to turn back, I tried to convince Turucáno to send Elenwë and their daughter back with him but he refused and Elenwë, stubborn elleth that she is, wouldn’t hear of it."

"Yet, it worked out in the end," Glorfindel said, "for Itarildë met the Mortal Tuor and they had Eärendil, who was the saving of us all."

Aracáno nodded. "So I’ve since heard. I am curious to meet this Eärendil who is my brother’s grandson and my great-nephew."

"He should be here tomorrow and...."

"What do you think?"

The two Reborn looked up to see Laurendil standing before them, holding a delicate statue of an elleth. She had her arms held above her head with her palms up and wrist touching so that it was obvious that one would place a candle on them. Only her upper body was shown, for the base of the statue was what appeared to be flames, as if she were rising out of them.

Or sinking into them if the flames were mistaken by some as shards of ice, instead.

"Elenwë! Nooo!" Aracáno screamed, blindly reaching out as if to save the elleth. Laurendil quickly stepped out of the way and placed the statue on a nearby shelf even as Glorfindel grabbed Aracáno who suddenly seemed to be having trouble breathing and was struggling in his hold.

"He’s drowning!" Glorfindel shouted.

"Let’s get him outside," Laurendil said, moving quickly to the door.

"What is wrong with him?" someone in the shop called out but neither Laurendil nor Glorfindel bothered to answer as they hustled the still gasping Aracáno out the door and into the street.

"Breathe, Aracáno," Laurendil ordered. "It’s not real. You’re not drowning. Open your eyes and see. Come, meldonya, breathe. That’s it."

Aracáno stopped struggling as if for breath and finally began to breathe normally but then he started shivering as if from extreme cold. "At-atto. H-help me, Atto. H-h-help...." He swayed as if dizzy and then simply collapsed. Glorfindel was able to catch him in time, scooping him into his arms.

"The tavern," Laurendil said tersely. "I’ll run ahead and alert them."

Glorfindel just nodded and followed after the fleeing Laurendil. Luckily, they did not have far to go and in minutes they were seated at one of the outside tables. Aracáno had come to by then and was simply weeping. Laurendil forced some wine down him and eventually he calmed down.

"Shh... it’s all right, meldonya," Glorfindel said soothingly, rubbing Aracáno’s back while Laurendil quietly encouraged the ellon to have more wine. "It was just a memory. You’re safe now." He looked up to see a number of people who’d been in the square standing around gawking at them and felt anger rise within him. "Have you good folk nothing better to do than stand here watching us enjoy a glass of wine?"

There was a flurry of motion as the bystanders quickly dispersed, their expressions ones of embarrassment. Soon, the three of them were alone.

"I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking," Laurendil said ruefully.

"It’s not your fault," Glorfindel assured him. "We were comparing notes about the Crossing and I think he mistook those flames as shards of ice and...."

"And saw Elenwë falling to her death," Laurendil finished the thought for him, nodding.

"And his death," Glorfindel reminded him. "Aracáno also drowned in the same accident."

"How are you feeling now?" Laurendil asked Aracáno.

"I want to go home," the ellon said quietly, his tone plaintive. "I don’t want to play anymore."

"We shouldn’t leave without the others, though," Laurendil said. "Why don’t you and Glorfindel stay here and enjoy this wine while I go see what the others are up to."

"But then I won’t be able to get a wedding gift," Aracáno said mournfully.

"I saw a lovely fruit bowl that I think would make an appropriate gift," Laurendil said. "It has a blue glaze that is almost the same shade as Findaráto’s house color. Why don’t I go and purchase that for you."

Aracáno nodded reluctantly, still looking mournful. Laurendil exchanged a look with Glorfindel who nodded. "We’ll just sit here quietly and wait for the others to show up."

Laurendil stood up and gave them a smile. "Just don’t eat all the fried fruit pastries before we return."

Even Aracáno was able to scare up a weak chuckle at that and Laurendil nodded approvingly before heading back to the street of shops in search of the others.

****

Gilvagor, Intarion and Findecáno entered the goldsmith’s shop and looked around. "You might find an appropriate gift here," Gilvagor said to Nolofinwë’s oldest son who shrugged.

"It’s my brother who is all agog about the wedding and getting a gift. I really don’t care if I go to the wedding or not."

Gilvagor gave the ellon a sharp look. "I did not think you disliked your cousin so much that you would refuse to go to his wedding."

Findecáno shrugged again and Gilvagor recognized the diffident expression on the ellon’s face. He’d seen it before on the faces of many Reborn: a pretended indifference masking deeply ambivalent emotions.

"I don’t recall there being any animosity between you and Finrod when we all resided in Beleriand," Gilvagor said in Sindarin.

Findecáno gave him a startled look. "Do I know you?"

Gilvagor shook his head. "Unlikely, my lord. Though I owed my allegiance to you, I was just a lowly warrior who fought under your banner. You have no reason to know me, for I was not a part of your war council, though later, out of necessity, I rose to command positions during the War of Wrath and was a close confidant to Gil-galad."

"Who? Oh, you mean Ereinion. Never cared for Gil-galad, myself... as a name, I mean. The ellon was able enough, though a bit too Sindarin in his sensibilities for my taste. Guess it comes from living all those years with the Shipwright."

Gilvagor kept his expression neutral. "No doubt. He has proved an able king who rules wisely and well."

"And yet you are not there by his side," Findecáno said with a shrewd look.

"I was suffering from Sea-longing. Gil-galad himself insisted I sail. It was his last command to me as my king."

Findecáno nodded and was about to say something when Intarion interrupted. "Are we here to discuss history or buy gifts? It’s boring just standing about talking."

"It’s always boring for you unless you are moving," Gilvagor said with a smile. "You must learn some patience, my friend. But you are correct. Let us see what we can find here." With that he led them further into the shop. "Sador is rather fond of white gold, as I recall. I was thinking of finding a cloak pin or something done in that particular metal."

They made their way through the small shop which consisted of a few shelves containing larger items of gold — plates, goblets and bowls of various sizes, intricately worked carcanets of spun gold with different gems sewn into them displayed on wooden heads, even a few statues. There was also a long display table with a glass top under which were placed smaller objects: rings, brooches, pendants and the like.

The proprietress of the shop was busy with another customer so they simply wandered about, speaking softly, admiring the wares. They were examining a pair of gem-encrusted gold goblets and discussing their suitability as wedding gifts when the proprietress approached them.

"May I help you, my lords?" she asked and Gilvagor enquired after cloak pins or brooches in white gold. She led him over to the glass counter and pulled out a number of small items. Findecáno and Intarion continued wandering through the shop in the meantime. Intarion pointed to a shelf further along where they could see a number of shallow bowls on display tripods. One in particular attracted their attention. It was approximately two feet in diameter and only about six inches high, the outside of the bowl was unadorned. The inside, however, told a different story, for just below the rim was set a circle of emerald and sapphire cabochons and the sides were etched with a processional scene of Elves celebrating, though it was unclear to the ellyn what the celebration might have been. In the center of the bowl was a carving of the sun with a face smiling at them.

"I remember when Anar first rose," Findecáno whispered, his expression one of delight.

Intarion nodded. "As do I."

"We were crossing through Mithrim on our way to Angband," the former High King of the Exilic Noldor said. "What were you doing?"

"Crowning Arafinwë as Noldóran," Intarion answered.

Findecáno gave him a puzzled look. "But that was years after he returned. Why the delay?"

"A long story and I don’t remember it all anymore," Intarion replied. "I just remember standing before the gates of Tirion as we were conducting the coronation ceremony with Anar rising. It was a glorious sight."

Findecáno nodded and with the bowl in his hands, went to where Gilvagor and the shop owner were still discussing cloak pins. They both looked up at their approach and Gilvagor smiled.

"Did you find something?"

Findecáno nodded, then shyly handed the bowl to Gilvagor, looking suddenly uncertain. Gilvagor smiled as he examined it. "It’s beautiful, though I’m unsure what it can be used for."

"It’s meant to be purely ornamental," the proprietress said. "One of my apprentices created it, commemorating the crowning of our king." — Both Intarion and Findecáno started at that but the elleth ignored them as she continued speaking — "He had heard the stories about it and decided to do a piece centered around the event. There’s a stand that goes with it so it can be properly displayed."

"Oh, I can get it," Intarion said and went back to where they’d found the bowl and returned with a golden tripod on which the bowl sat.

"Do you think it appropriate?" Findecáno asked anxiously, speaking in Sindarin.

"Yes. I think it very appropriate," Gilvagor replied in the same language. "Lord Finrod would appreciate this, for, of course, he was not there to see his adar crowned, though Lady Amarië was." He turned to the proprietress. "We would like to purchase this bowl and I’ll take the brooch with the rubies."

"And don’t forget gold filaments for my hair," Findecáno said in a plaintive voice.

The proprietress raised an eyebrow and it was clear to the ellyn that she wondered about the ‘guard’, but good manners forbade her from saying anything except, "What thickness would you like, sir?"

Findecáno grinned and told her and in a short while the three ellyn were leaving the shop. At the last minute, Intarion decided he wished to buy the pair of goblets they’d been admiring earlier, asking the elleth to have Ingwion’s and Ingalaurë’s names incised on the bases. "Their begetting day is some months away, but I might as well get them something now as later," he explained to the other ellyn. The proprietress assured him that she would have the goblets readied before he left Tirion. As they were leaving the shop, they spied Laurendil coming towards them, carrying a package.

"We’ve had a bit of trouble," the Lóriennildo said without preamble. "Glorfindel and Aracáno are at the tavern. Why don’t you go there now and I’ll round up the others."

"Serious?" Gilvagor asked.

"Under control," Laurendil replied with a shake of his head.

"My brother?" Findecáno enquired, looking upset.

"He remembered something that upset him," Laurendil said soothingly. "He’s much better now. I need to find the others. They were at the silversmith’s shop earlier but they are not there now."

"They could be anywhere then," Gilvagor said. "Why don’t...."

But whatever he meant to suggest was lost as they all heard a sudden roar of voices coming from further down the street. They could not see what the commotion was about for the street curved to follow the contours of the hill so part of it was hidden from them. Gilvagor and Laurendil exchanged knowing glances. They both thrust their packages into the hands of the two Reborn.

"Go to the tavern," Laurendil ordered them. "We’ll see what this is about."

"But...." both Reborn began to protest.

Laurendil, however, was not in the mood. "GO!" he shouted at them, pointing imperiously back towards the square and such was the force of his command that the two Reborn went, albeit reluctantly, while he and Gilvagor set out quickly in the opposite direction, all of them wondering what mischief Ingwion, Ingalaurë and Nolofinwë had gotten themselves into.

****

Words are Quenya:

Hröa: Body.

Meldonya: My (male) friend.

Notes:

1. Glorfindel’s ‘fried fruit pastry’ is a medieval dish known as a ‘rissole’ or ‘rysschews’ of fruit: ground figs, dates, currants and pine nuts with various spices in a turnover pastry and deep fried. The recipe can be found at medievalcookery(dot)com.

2. Findecáno’s reference to braiding his hair with gold is taken from The Peoples of Middle-earth: ‘The Shibboleth of Fëanor’, HoME XII. My thanks to Ellie for finding me the reference.

3. Itarildë became known as Idril in Beleriand.

4. A carcanet is a begemmed headband usually made of gold worn by Elven women and later by Dúnedain women of high rank.