Chapter 18

“Eärwen!” Arafinwë exclaimed in shock. “My love,  wha…Why are you here? How…how come no one told me you were here?” Quickly he switched his glass of wine to his other hand, trying to keep the bit that had sloshed over the rim from staining his robe. 

“Am I still your love?” she asked, her tone and face revealing nothing of her feelings as she gracefully rose to her feet.

Shaking his damp hand, he took two swallows of the wine to prevent any more from spilling, for his hands were trembling badly as he returned the glass to the table.  Drying his hands on a serving towel, he turned to address her again.

“When we last spoke, I swore to you that I love and I still do. I just…I did not expect to see you again. You told me that was how you wanted it to be.  I respected that, so I left.  Why have you returned?”

“I still live here, do I not? No one here is aware that there is anything unusual between us, for you have told no one and neither have I.  I do not have to be announced to enter my own chambers. When I left the palace to meet your ship, this was still my sitting room and that,” she gestured behind him, “was still my bedroom.”

“So they were,” he replied, keeping his voice neutral as well. Unless she had returned to retrieve her possessions, he could not understand why she was there. She hated him and rightly so.

“You were gone a long time,” she observed. “The Ingaran decided not to await your return before continuing on his journey. He departed six days ago.”

“The Ingaran? Six days?” Arafinwë gasped.  “When did he arrive here? Why was I not told?”

Eärwen crossed her arms in front of her, her figure regal and imposing like the queen she was. “He arrived two weeks ago. We travelled together. I saw to his comfort during his stay and briefed him on the state of affairs in the Noldorin realm.  We did not know exactly where you were at the time, other than out investigating the state of affairs in each village since the return of the army. By the time we would have found you and told you of his arrival, he likely would have been packing up to leave again anyway.”

The king nodded his gratitude. “I appreciate you handling things with him and with the whole realm while I was away. I needed to do what I did out there.”

She smiled, genuine kindness and respect in her eyes. “I know you did. By the time I arrived here with Ingwë, messages were already coming in from the villages you had visited, with chief elders expressing their gratitude for your visit and their appreciation for you. Ingwë said you have set a precedent and that he or Ingwion would need to visit the Vanyarin villages after they return home and settle affairs there. He left you a long letter. It is on your desk when you feel up to reading it. He said there is no hurry in the matter. He prefers that you heal some more before resuming your duties as Noldóran.”

“Thank you,” Arafinwë nodded again. “I learned many things while out among our people. I am glad I went. It was most edifying and surprisingly enjoyable.” He smiled at the memories that suddenly came to him, recalling some of the folk he had met, especially that feisty baker.  After a few moments indulgence, he returned his attention to the lady standing before him.

He did not mind the company, but he was not in the mood to be trifled with. He simply wanted to let go of the past and go on. With no hope of getting his wife back, he had no desire to prolong a second parting with her.

Steeling himself, he softly stated, “You have not yet answered me, Eärwen. Why have you returned?”

“Would you like to sit down?” she asked gesturing to his chair.

He shook his head, “I will remain where I am.”

“Very well.” She wrung her hands, looking about uncertainly. “I…Ah…this is more difficult than I thought it would be.” Turning, she sat heavily in her favorite chair which was beside his.

“Oh, how do I say this,” she breathed. Looking up, she met his gaze, but her eyes looked weary and defeated. 

“A few days after you left me there on the beach, perhaps three or four days, Lady Estë and Lady Yavanna came to visit me in my chambers.  I had not dined with my family in all of that time and had spoken to no one other than to my handmaid.  Even she had heard few words out of me in that time. I spoke long with the Ladies and they helped me understand many things. I was so angry with you for your betrayal of me and being so broken and damaged by all that you have experienced with the war and even with becoming king when you were so unprepared for the throne.  I…I never noticed how broken and damaged I was by all that has happened to me.”

Eärwen  averted her eyes, “I…I was so hurt by the rebellion, the loss of my children, the deaths of so many of my people at the hands of my husband’s people. Then the Valar took my husband away from me and left me to rule a people who are not my own.  It was difficult. So very very difficult. And…I suppose I expected it all to be better when you came home again. I think I felt that the war would solve everything and our children and the others lost to us would come home, and we could have our dreams back…we could have our lives back just as they were before the death of the Trees. But that has not happened, has it?”

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “When you came back to me, for a brief time, I thought we could perhaps be as we were before.  But you were different and so was I, and I could not accept that.  Did you know that I still dream of having a house on the beach with you with a garden and a path made of jewels and shells leading down to the sea?”

Arafinwë smiled sadly, “I did not know that you still dreamed of that house by the sea. There were many many days, almost beyond count, when that dream was what sustained me and kept me sane.”

“What happened?” she whispered. “How…” she gestured around her. “Why did all of this have to come to pass?”

“No one asked us what we wanted,” he said.  “We were tangled in the middle of all of it, and we simply reacted and did what we had to do, became what we had to become.”

“It is not fair,” she said bitterly.

“No, it is not,” he replied matter-of-factly.

She looked down and began twisting the ribbons on her dress around her fingers, then untwisting them again. It was an old familiar nervous habit of hers which he found oddly endearing.  “Yavanna told me that you were bowed by the weight of what you had to do in the war, ordering ellyn to their deaths, fighting, watching your friends die, and at the same time you were so grieved by the losses you had suffered already. She…she said that had Faroniel not come along, you would have died and Námo did not believe he ever would have been able to heal your fëa. She also said that without you to lead the Noldor, the war, in all likelihood, would have been lost. I always knew you were a strong ellon and powerful beyond what anyone ever expected or believed you capable, but I never wanted you to have to be. I believe you were tested, but I was the one found wanting.”

Eärwen stilled her hands, meeting his eyes again, intense pain marring her lovely features. “Why could that adaneth and her love for you do what my love for you could not? I tried. I swear I tried, for yéni I tried, but…” she exhaled sharply shaking her head. “Did you love her more than you loved me?”

Arafinwë was taken aback. Why would the Valar have intervened to help her understand him? Why should they? Why did they explain all of this to her and not to him, and why did he not perceive it himself? Or perhaps he did, but…He was tired. Still so very weary of fëa…

“I…” he began, “I do not know if I can adequately answer your questions.  You are my strength and my joy.  You always have been.  My atar once told me that an ellon can love two ellith and love them differently without the love for one diminishing the love for the other.  I understand what he meant by that now.  I love you and will always love you, but I will always love Faroniel as well. My love for you is as eternal as are we. I loved Faroniel, knowing that she would die and that it was a risk and fleeting and temporary. But I was so empty and devoid of all that I remembered, and when I did remember, it was all of the bad things, the fears, the inadequacies, the struggles, the disapproval of my atar... I had the chance to remake myself, but had to hide my greatness the whole time, whereas in my forgotten past, I strived for a greatness that was always unattainable in the eyes of my judges.”

He sighed, nervously running his fingers through his wet hair. “I do not know how to explain this. I…She…she only knew me as a broken ellon who was struggling to regain himself-- even just to figure out who and what he really was. Her expectation for me was that I survived and helped provide for a family. I had the opportunity to live with that being the only expectation of me.  It was so very liberating and enjoyable and…I guess now that I think about it... It was what you and I so desperately wanted, but could never have in our dream house by the sea. I got to live that dream – granted it was in the  woods and among Mortals, some of which feared me and wanted me dead – but I had seven years free of the burdens that I have known most of my life here in Aman.  And I paid a horrible, horrible price for that brief freedom.  I needed that time to heal my body and my fëa. I needed Faroniel and our twins to love and nurture and be strong for and be willing to die for, even though I knew all along they were going to die first and leave me all alone.”

He wiped his face with his hand, surprised at the tears he found there. “Your love is constant and saw me through the difficulties and horrors I faced in Aman my whole life. You are the one who binds me to this life. You are the one I dreamt dreams with and the one I wore a crown with. I trusted Faroniel with my life and my heart for a short but necessary time when that was all I had to give, but you are the one I trusted with my fëa and with the lives and well-being of my whole clan. I do not know what else to say or how else to begin to explain this. I am sorry.”

Turning away, he picked up his drink and emptied the glass in one go then poured himself another.  As an afterthought, he poured her a glass as well and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she nodded, drinking half of it before setting the glass on the small table beside her.

“Tell me about the children added unto you two.”

Bringing his drink with him, he walked over and sat in his chair beside her. “They were beautiful. Andreth was golden and fiery and strong-willed much like our Artanis, but Aicanáro had silvery twisty curly hair that never stayed well groomed. He believed himself fearsome like a warrior, but he was gentle as well. They tried so hard to please me and they followed me everywhere.” He launched into a long animated recounting of the antics of the children.

Eärwen was a good listener, gradually coming to laugh and sigh with him as he remembered. At some point, she started telling comparable stories of their children’s antics growing up, causing them both to laugh as they reminisced.

When the tales were told, she asked between mouthfuls of bread and cheese from the new plate she had prepared for them, “Why did you choose to have children with her if you knew you were going to lose her eventually?”

“It broke my heart to see her grieve for the children she had lost. I would have done anything to bring joy to her again. Also, my own heart ached for what I felt I was missing every time I saw children in the village. I did not understand at the time that I was grieving on some level for the loss of my own children as well. Feeling my twins little fëar as soon as they were made brought me such unbelievable joy, as if a great void within me were suddenly filled again. And seeing her joy at being a mother again, it…it was almost too much to bear. It was glorious and wonderful and terrifying all at the same time and wearying…so very, very wearying…” He smiled, remembering the joy.

Eärwen grew quiet for a time, twisting and untwisting her ribbons while he sat enjoying the companionable silence with her as he finished the cheese and bread.

“Would you do it again?” she finally asked, still studying the twisting ribbons.

He paused worriedly, unsure of what she was asking. Would he marry again? Probably not, no, but he needed clarification before he answered, lest he misunderstand whatever she was trying to ask. “Would I do what again?”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “Would you once again look on your wife as she grieves for the children she has lost and be willing to do anything to bring her joy again?”

He answered her truthfully, “If my wife still loved me and still desired to be at my side, then yes, I believe I would.”

She looked down, untwisting the ribbons from around her fingers, then arose and moved to stand before him.  “Your wife still loves you and desires to be at your side forever.”

Rising to his feet, he blinked back the tears he felt threatening his vision once again. His heart sang so loudly he could have sworn that she could hear it. Tentatively, tenderly placing his hands on her shoulders, he quietly asked, “And what could I do to bring my wife joy again?”

She reached up, sliding her hands across his bare chest and pushing the silk robe from his shoulders. “Give me a child, Arafinwë. Fill my empty womb. Fill our empty arms.”

Arafinwë smiled, rejoicing as he bent to kiss her in reply.

XXXXX

“Atto!” a melodious female voice cried in the distance. “Atto!” The sound of doors opening and closing grew nearer as the voice seemed to call in each room as it came closer.  Finally a breathless elleth bounced into the room in a swirl of skirts and tousled, long silvery hair.  Shouting once again just as loudly as she seemed to have been calling every time before, she cried, “Atto!”

“For goodness sake, Falmamírë. I am certain the entire palace knows you are looking for me. There is no need to shout,” Arafinwë glared at his daughter sternly. “You also should not have been running through the corridors.”

She blushed, bowing her head shyly at the reprimand. “How did you know I was running?”

“You are out of breath and your hair is a mess.” He reached up distractedly and tried to straighten the most distressed of her hair ribbons.

“Oh. I am sorry, Atar. I did not mean to shout, but I had to find you. I did mean to run though. Three of the servants and one lord and two ladies and a visitor who looked like a Vanya wearing the tabard of the high king and also the steward did tell me to slow down, so I did not run as fast as I could have.”

“Did they all tell you that at the same time?”

“No,” she cheerfully added after a moment of thought, “At different times. But it takes so long to walk all the way up here from the front door of the palace. Oh, and one retainer also told me not to run on the steps.”

Arafinwë looked away rolling his eyes and praying for patience, trying to hide his amused smile. “Well, thank you for being honest, Child. Your amillë would tell you that ladies do not run across the palace and up three flights of steps.”

“Four.”

“What?” He set down the document he had been reading to more properly pay attention to her.

“I went the wrong way and had to go back down and find the right stairs.”

“All right. You still should not run on the stairs or through the corridors or anywhere else indoors.”

“Is that a rule from Atto or a rule from the king?” she asked coyly.

“Yes,” he replied irritably.

“You are a lady and a princess and a child who is indoors,” Eärwen scolded as she approached from the other side of the room. “No running!”

“Yes, Ammë,” she conceded, bowing her head penitently.

“So why were you running and trying to find me?” Arafinwë asked.

“Oh! This came for you,” Falmamírë handed him a slightly bent, sealed document imprinted with marks from her tight grip as she ran through the palace with it.

“Who gave you this to bring to me?” Arafinwë asked in exasperation as he shook the folded parchment at her.

“The messenger from Alqualondë did. I greeted him in the proper Lindarin fashion, and he recognized me as the granddaughter of the Lindaran and the Swan Maiden’s daughter. He said I am as going to be as lovely as my amillë,” she paused to cover her mouth and giggle.  “I assured him I would find you and bring this to you straight away. And since he needed to continue on to Vanyamar anyway, he gave it to me to bring to you.”

There were many things Arafinwë wanted to say at that moment about harried messengers and pretty ellith, but he bit them back as Eärwen came up behind him and began rubbing his neck. He motioned for the child to go sit on the bench by the window, watching as she dutifully curtsied and complied.

“She is but a child,” Eärwen crooned in his ear.

“A very beautiful, manipulative, energetic one,” he muttered back. “Clearly your daughter.”

“And yours, Dear. And yours,” Eärwen kissed his neck below his ear, trailing the tip of her tongue against his skin as she did so. “You cannot pin all of the blame on me.”

He growled softly and turned to kiss her lips. Eärwen’s quiet laughter rang in his ear as she leaned away, allowing only one kiss and drew up a chair to sit beside him.

“So, my love, what is this missive that was so important that it could not wait?” She turned it in his hand. “I do not recognize the seal.”

“I think it is from the king of Númenor. That looks like some variation of Eärendil’s star,” Arafinwë said.

He reached for a letter opened and broke the seal, unfolding several neatly scrawled pages.

Elros Tar-Mintataur, King of Numenor

Year 42 of the Second Age

Arafinwë Noldóran:

I send you greetings from the newly completed palace in Armenelos. Construction on the capital is coming along nicely thanks in large part to the smiths and masons you have leant to assist us. Considering all that you have done and are doing to aide us, I felt that the first letter I wrote from my new study should be to you.

Included in this missive on pages two through seven, please find details of the trade agreements you, Prince Ingwion, and I had discussed earlier. Please understand that this is but a draft. I would like your advice on how to proceed from here when negotiating with the Lindaran for transport by ship. Are our requests and stipulations reasonable? Should some of these be worded differently? Any advice you could offer in this matter would be most appreciated.

On a more personal note, I have taken a wife. I knew the woman for a few years, having met her while constructing the palace. This month as a fitting honor at the completion of my palace, I married the lovely Andreth Laurehériel and made her my queen. The Valar have indeed smiled upon me for she is, in all likelihood, the only peredhel nis in all of Endórë and certainly in all of Númenor. Those who concern themselves with genealogies said that we should learn of her elven ancestry for the royal records. We need to identify if not locate her elven kin, for she spent her whole life among the folk of her mortal amillë Faroniel and knows very little of her elven atar for she was orphaned at five years of age. Her atar is from Aman, most likely one of the Vanyar, for he had golden hair like hers. He met her amillë when he was wounded while fighting in the War of Wrath.  Rumor has it he died in battle the same day her amillë died of an illness. He was cut down defending Prince Ingwion.  Any news you can find for us regarding Laurehér the Vanyarin smith would be most appreciated.

Arafinwë dropped the letter, folded his hands and rested his head on the desk before him. Eärwen leaned over and held him as he trembled and cried. His daughter was alive!

After all of this time, his daughter was alive!

Sometime later he became aware of another set of hands rubbing his back.

“Atto, why are you crying?” Falmamírë pleaded, patting his back and shoulder. “It hurts my heart to see you so sad. Please tell me how I can make you smile again.”

She hugged him and started weeping as well, dampening his tunic with her tears. “Please, Atto. I love you so very much. Please, do not be sad. It is just a letter from someplace far away. Please, do not be sad.”

It was a long time before he was even able to sit up, let alone stay his tears.

“Child, fetch your Atto some wine from the other room,” Eärwen commanded.

“Yes, Amillë,” Falmamírë wiped her face on her sleeve and curtsied, then ran to the door.

As soon as she was out of the room, Eärwen said, “You cannot tell them anything about Laurehér other than what they already know. No one can find out he is you.”

“I know,” he nodded, wiping his face on a handkerchief she had pressed into his hand. “I know. I…I just. My little girl is alive. Beyond all hope, my little girl is alive!”

“Yes, yes, she is. And because she is…,” Eärwen smiled warmly, “Queen of Númenor, you will always know about her life and about the lives of her children. You need never wonder again. She will be well-cared for and lead a good life. There is no more you could wish for her than that.”

“No, no, there is not. You are correct. It seems they would have mentioned her brother if he yet lived, so I assume he did not,” he dabbed at his eyes again. “Well, at least I have news of my daughter, and I know that she lives. That is a greater blessing than I ever thought to be granted.”

“What will you say in reply to the request for information about Laurehér?” Eärwen asked.

“I will say that the information they gave me about him could apply to hundreds of Vanyarin soldiers and not to hold out hope of ever finding him. The Vanyar suffered heavy losses ere the end of the war and who knows how long it will take for all of those who were lost to be reborn? Besides, if he loved a mortal he may choose to refuse rebirth as our son did, in which case no one will see him again until the Second Music when Elves and Mortals will be reunited. I will suggest that as the hope to sustain her even though it is not much.”

“That sounds like a wise, safe answer. I will help you compose the letter tonight,” Eärwen said. She adjusted her hold on him, whispering softly for their daughter had returned with the glass of wine, “My love, I am happy for you. I love you.”

XXXXX

Fëar - spirits

Nis – female

Falmamírë – wave jewel or jewel of the waves