Chapter the Thirtieth-Second:

In Which It Rains and Our Tale Comes to an End

They all rushed out of the pavilion to find the sky darkening with storm clouds rolling up the Calacirya, the wind whistling loudly. Trees were bending against the gale and many people were just standing there gaping in disbelief as lightning flashed in the distance and thunder rolled across the sky. The force of the wind increased as the storm drew near and one of the pavilions under which people had been eating suddenly collapsed. Screams of surprise and fear echoed across the park and people rushed to rescue those trapped inside.

Arafinwë turned to Manwë, his expression beyond furious. "What does this mean?" he screamed over the wind. "Did you deliberately...."

Manwë held up a hand, his own expression unreadable. He turned to Ulmo. "I thought you diverted this storm away from the coast?"

"I did," Ulmo protested with a growl. "It should be halfway to Endórë by now, though I intended for it to die out before it did too much damage there."

"Then how did it end up here?" Manwë demanded.

"Ossë!" Ulmo shouted, his voice echoing through the land, setting off a minor quake that sent the Elves scrabbling for balance.

It was not Ossë who appeared before them, though, but Uinen, looking distraught. "I tried to stop him, lord," she said, nearly wailing. "I told him he was going to be in trouble, but he wouldn’t listen. I tried...."

"Not your fault, dear," Ulmo said gently, "but your husband is going to be spending some time with my brother Námo until he’s learned a bit more self-control." He gave Námo a sour look and the Lord of Mandos merely nodded. "In the meantime, you and Salmar are to gather the others and shift this storm. It’s too late to prevent it from coming, but we can mitigate its effects somewhat." He turned to Manwë, scowling. "If you’ll excuse me, I’d best see if I can track down a certain Maia."

Manwë gave him a nod and the Lord of Waters was no longer there.

"Well, we can’t stay here," Arafinwë said then. "We need to get everyone inside the city."

"My people will help make sure there is an orderly retreat," Manwë said and Arafinwë was wise enough not to argue. Instead, he turned to the others and only then noticed his son and new daughter-in-law clinging to one another with Amarië weeping uncontrollably, proclaiming that they were obviously cursed. And then, as if in answer to her words, there was a brilliant flash of lightning that seemed to be right on top of them for it was immediately followed by a loud clap of thunder and then the skies opened up and it started pouring.

Everyone’s immediate reaction was to rush back inside the pavilion but even as they were doing so, there was the sound of cloth ripping and before they realized it, the pavilion was flying away, the guy ropes having been torn from their anchors. Trenchers, goblets and cutlery flew about and everyone was ducking but the Valar who raised their hands as one and then a shimmering half-globe of light surrounded them all. It took a moment for the Elves to realize that not only was the rain not touching them, but no sound of the storm reached them. They stared about in wonder, absently wiping rainwater from their brows. As quickly as the Valar had acted, they were still all soaked to the skin with the water dripping off their clothes, forming soggy pools at their feet. Only the Valar appeared dry.

Everyone muttered in disgust as they attempted to wring the water out of their clothes. The ellith especially were distraught. Almáriel actually had the gall to say to Eärwen, "This wouldn’t have happened if we’d had the wedding in Vanyamar as I kept insisting."

"Madam," Castamir said coldly before Eärwen could respond, "if you do not keep quiet, I will ask Lord Manwë to open up this barrier long enough to chuck you outside into the storm." His wife gave him a shocked look of disbelief but wisely remained silent.

Finrod, meanwhile, was glaring at the Valar. "Great. Just great. First the cake, now this. I’m beginning to think Amarië is correct. We’re cursed, or at least, I am."

"You are not cursed, Findaráto," Manwë said. "This was just unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?" Finrod nearly screamed in frustration. "Unfortunate? Losing the rings is unfortunate. Forgetting the words of the vows is unfortunate. But this? This is beyond unfortunate." He swept his hand to encompass the storm still raging silently around them.

"I don’t remember our wedding being this exciting," Nolofinwë interjected as he looked at Anairë. "Was it?" He gave her a puzzled look.

Anairë lifted an eyebrow. "It was exciting enough, dear. You fainted, after all."

"I never did!"

"Oh yes you did, hanno," Arafinwë said with a laugh, "right into my arms. Atar was so disgusted he was ready to disown you on the spot but Ammë was more practical. She tipped a vase of water over you to bring you around." He grinned at Indis who merely smiled while the older Elves laughed, remembering the incident. The younger Elves, especially Findecáno and Aracáno, just stood there gaping, not sure how to react.

Nolofinwë looked mortified and was almost in tears. Anairë wrapped her arms around her husband and gave him a hug. "It’s all right, dear. No one thinks the less of you. When you fainted, my first thought was, ‘Bother. He beat me to it’." She gave him a sly smile and then the two of them started laughing.

In the meantime, the storm continued to rage around them. They watched under the safety of the Valar’s barrier as tree limbs snapped and went flying, along with chairs and tables and everything else. More than one pavilion was down or simply gone. All the guests were gone, leaving only those of the wedding party still in the park. When Arafinwë asked Manwë, he was assured that all had safely reached shelter and the city itself would suffer little damage.

"Well, are we just going to stand here and watch this storm?" Glorfindel suddenly asked. "Or can we not make it to the palace so we can dry off?"

"All that good food wasted," Sador said with a scowl, "and we didn’t even get a chance to eat any of it."

"Not to mention the wines," Ingwion added with a sigh.

"Or the cake," Ingalaurë chimed in, staring at the spot where the cake had stood. All that was left of it was a single lump that somehow hadn’t been blown away or washed away.

"It’s too dangerous to remove this barrier," Manwë said with a sympathetic smile. "The storm’s center will reach here in about an hour. That will give you time to make it back to the palace."

"An hour," everyone sighed dejectedly at the same time.

The Valar exchanged amused glances, then Manwë gestured and to their utter amazement people found themselves completely dry; not even the ground inside the barrier was wet. Chairs and a table appeared from nowhere. On the table was a wedding cake and several bottles of wine. There were plates and goblets as well and in minutes, Finrod and Amarië were cutting the cake while Glorfindel and Sador helped pour the wine. Soon they were all seated, happily eating and drinking while the Valar looked on in satisfaction.

And while the storm continued, the Valar entertained the Elves with tales of times before the Eldar had ever woken under the stars....

****

Dawn light was peeping into the Merethrond as Glorfindel finished his tale. The others stared at him in disbelief, except Mithrandir, who sat there with an enigmatic smile on his face. Glorfindel took a sip of wine and gave them an arch look.

Finally, Elrohir stirred. "That’s it?"

Glorfindel responded with an elegant shrug. "Not much more to say. As Lord Manwë predicted, the storm’s center reached us in about an hour, at which time we made our way back to the palace where we discovered that Marilla, I mean Marilliën, had a hot meal waiting for us, so we finally did have something of a feast, just not what had been originally planned. The storm came back and once it passed, the three kings began organizing everyone for cleanup duty. I spent the better part of that night clearing tree limbs that had been downed and picking up broken pieces of crockery and whatnot. The only people not involved were Finrod and Amarië. They had... um... other things on their minds." He gave them a knowing grin.

There were snorts of amusement from more than one throat. Galadriel turned to Mithrandir. "And you can vouch for the veracity of Glorfindel’s story?"

"Every word was true," the Wizard responded.

"And thank you for supplying some of the details of which I was not entirely aware, old friend," Glorfindel said, lifting his goblet in salute.

"My pleasure," Mithrandir said with a nod.

"And here I thought living in Valinor was bound to be ... um... dull," Erestor said with a grin for Glorfindel.

"Not with Finrod around," Glorfindel responded with a snort of amusement, "or the Valar."

"I can’t believe Uncle Finrod actually set fire to his wedding clothes, though," Elladan said with a smirk, "and thinking he was battling Sauron." There were titters of laughter from the others.

"And whatever happened to the wedding china?" Lindir asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Well, do you know they make excellent decoys?" He gave them a sly grin. "Once the cleanup was accomplished and things were a bit more normal, Finrod dragged the china out and we had a grand time perfecting our aim, trying to see how many we could hit with our arrows as they were thrown up into the air. Beleg won the contest, of course."

"You destroyed the china?" Elrohir asked, his eyes wide.

"Every last ugly piece of it," Glorfindel said with great satisfaction. "And then, Sador had the larger shards collected and took them back home to Tol Eressëa where he created a number of windchimes and gave them to the rest of us as... ah... remembrance gifts of the wedding, as if any of us could possibly forget." He gave them an elegant shrug. "For all I know, mine is still hanging in my bedroom window in Aewellond."

Silence followed that statement as everyone contemplated the import of Glorfindel’s words. Finally, Elrond stirred, looking about. "I see the servants are ready to lay out the breakfast. I suggest we all go and refresh ourselves and give the servants a chance to clean up."

There were nods all around and the Elves thanked Glorfindel for his tale as they left. Glorfindel and Mithrandir remained seated while the servants bustled about. The Elf stared moodily into his goblet, his thoughts elsewhere and elsewhen.

"You miss them," Mithrandir said, breaking the silence between them.

Glorfindel shrugged, not bothering to look up.

"If there are any messages you wish to convey to your gwedyr or anyone else, I would be honored to deliver them for you."

Glorfindel looked up. "Thank you. I appreciate your offer."

Mithrandir nodded and stood. "Why don’t we go freshen up? Aragorn and Arwen will be arriving soon enough."

Glorfindel drained his goblet and set it on the table as he stood. "Please make my excuses to the happy couple. I think I prefer to be alone at this time." He gave the Wizard a brief bow and walked out of the feasthall without a backward glance.

Mithrandir watched the Elf-lord walk away and sighed, shaking his head before following, while servants cleared the table where the Elves had sat, readying it for the breakfast feast to come.

-Meth-