TIME RENEWED - Chapter Six 

Among the flood of battered fëar seeking healing and shelter in the vast Halls there was one that shone with eager hope. Námo stayed the newly released fëa, bidding it part from the wounded throng.

The Lord of Mandos spoke with wonder, “How is it that you wear the sheen of beginning and not of ending?”

The glimmering fëa answered with a gamut of colors, spun of the joy of acknowledged love, spiraling about the Vala like a living rainbow. It then halted, quivering in wordless plea for understanding.

With a blink of his eyes, Námo gave permission for the form of speech permitted on rare occasions to an unsettled fëa.

“Lord Námo, a boon I would ask of thee,” the fëa answered.

“You come to a place of rest and of healing. Why ask you more?”

“For another I plead.”

“In due time this one may yet come by grief or dire wounding.”

“She is of Men, my Lord, and but newly wedded.”

“Then she will pause in the region of Mortal fëar ere she leaves the circles of Arda. It is not for me to direct her course, but offer brief rest only.”

“Hear me, I beg. It is to me she is bonded, fëa to fëa only. Brief was her life, though infinitely precious to me. Sworn am I to remain within these Halls until the breaking and remaking of Arda for the sake of my love for her. Never now shall we abide as bonded mates through the long ages to come, and I will have no other. True she remained to me for her short span, forgoing union with husband, the joy of children, and embittered by the loss.”

The bright radiance dimmed to a dull grey, as it hung motionless before the Vala, awaiting an answer.

“The Gifts of Ilúvatar to Elves and to Men cannot be altered,” Námo stated. “Go now and find what peace you will.”

A gentle, feminine voice forestalled him. “Imploring spirit, by what name were you known among your people?”

“Aegnor, son of Finarfin, of the House of Finwë.”

There was a pause before she continued, “An Exile.”

“Unworthy though I am, this one thing I would entreat you for the sake of my wife.”

“Joining of hröar completes the binding, Finarfinion,” Námo interjected. “If re-housed, you may choose a mate among your own people.”

“I will not break my troth-vow with Andreth.”

Nienna queried, “Then what favor do you desire?”

“Tales speak that the region set aside for those Mortal fëar borders that of the Firstborn. A long moment I would beseech of thee to bid her farewell ere she flees the confines of Arda, and to renew my vow to her.”

The two Valar conferred for a time, while the silently pleading fëa flickered faintly.

Námo turned his head and announced, “The Mortal comes.”

“Is it then too late?”

“Námo, bid her tarry yet awhile that we may consult with Manwë. Perchance he may solve this dilemma,” Nienna urged him to action. Then she spoke kindly to Aegnor, “Bide here, bright spirit, and await an answering.”

*******

Faint was the song calling him, the music a delight. Drifting on the flow of notes, he found himself nearing a barrier as wide as the sea and as narrow as a silken thread, alive with the noise of hurrying waters. From beyond the gapless wall, the song wove its melody, as familiar as his own breath and as strange as lands of the unexplored territory East of the Ered Luin; it beckoned to him. Pressing himself against the flood-wall, he was repeatedly rebuffed. The song wavered, then weakened, and despairing he cast out from his being a cry of yearning, pleading with the unbreachable barrier to shape an entrance. To his surprise a small opening appeared through which he darted swiftly.

He emerged into a land of shadows and deep night.  Amazed, he approached the source of the exquisite music. A dark haired maiden sat beside a night darkened lake, the light of stars in the water and mingled in her hair. A gasp, born of a beloved memory, broke from his throat and with astonishment he put hand to mouth, that he not alarm the one seated on a large rock.

Yanking his hand from his face he stared in disbelief at the visible affirmation that he was indeed clad in a body of flesh and bone. It was exactly as he remembered his hróa before his death. His death! How could this be? He vowed never to be re-housed!  With sudden realization that he had betrayed his beloved Andreth, he groaned aloud.

The maiden turned about to face the unheralded sound, and cast a curious glance at him before speaking, “I was bid wait. Have you brought word?”

Somehow all he could do was to stare at her, unmoving, unspeaking, as though frozen in that fractional moment.

“Are you the Lord of this place?” her vision hindered by the night about them, she peered at him.

“Your song drew me. Forgive the intrusion,” he apologized.

“It is lonely here. Would you keep company with me awhile?” she requested.

Reluctantly he approached the female who gazed at him hopefully. At that instant he recalled another lake and a single perfect moment that pierced his heart.

Turning away he cried out to the Powers in his distress, “Tempt me not with another! My pledge is given!”

“Fear not, fair one,” she uttered firmly, “Neither do I wish for other than kind words. My love is sundered from me till all is made anew, but still he holds my heart.”

“Your voice is known to me, Mortal, have you a name?” he queried.

“Andreth, my lord.”

“Daughter of Boromir, of the House of Bëor?” he faltered.

“In life I was so called,” she confirmed.

 “Andreth,” his voice was only a whisper. “Gladly will I tarry.”

On swift feet he closed the distance between them hoping that she would recognize him. She had turned back instead, to focus on the dark waters, but beckoned him to sit nearby and did not acknowledge him further. Bright starlight reflecting on his golden head caught her eyes, but again she refused to direct her full attention toward the newcomer.

“Golden-haired also was my love. Do you perchance know aught of the sons of the House of Finarfin? Much would my heart be eased to hear any tidings,” Andreth sighed, “the youngest especially.”

Aegnor was bereft of words and so reached and gently clasped the maiden’s hand. She flinched at the contact and attempted to free herself.

Andreth reprimanded her companion, “My wedded lord only will I ever suffer to touch me. Keep a goodly distance, sir, or depart.”

To her alarm he did not break the fragile link and instead boldly grasped her hand.

Now she grew angry and drew her hand from his with a quick tug. Her tone spoke of unequivocal outrage. “Why do you disregard my warning? Who are you to take such liberties? Think you to supplant my lord husband by forced attentions? I thought you elf-kindred, yet you behave in the manner of the most base and unprincipled of Mortals. Go now and trouble me no longer with your…” Leaping to her feet and stepping back she finally turned to scrutinize her tormenter, and froze in mid-tirade. Mouth agape she stared at the apparition before her.

“Andreth.” Her name on his lips surprised them both.  In a single stride he closed the gap between them and stretched out his hand, palm-up, to her. Tears blurred her eyes as she reached to him.

“Aegnor?”

He nodded and smiled roguishly. “My lady-wife, well met.”

“You are surely come? This is not a…a dream or vision of my wishing?” Andreth stammered in disbelief. Then, aware that she felt the contact with strong, slender hands encased in smooth supple skin, warm and alive, she blurted, “Do we live again? How can this be possible?”

“Truly I cannot say, beloved; a gift from the Valar, perhaps even from Ilúvatar himself.”

Eyes shimmering with unshed tears, she lifted her other hand to cup his cheek, then hesitantly stroked the golden flow of hair spilling down his chest. She sighed deeply for the sheer pleasure of the contact. Looking up into his face, which dazzled her with its beauty, tears of joy fell unnoticed. He bent his head to kiss her tenderly on the brow, then raised her hand to his lips as well.

“The likeness of Tarn Aeluin!” Aegnor uttered in wondering tones. “Are we returned to the beginning, which was an ending, to begin again?”

*******

Aegnor explored the shoreline with Andreth at his side, until at last he found a place that strongly reminded him of their last time together in life, and he drew her to stand by him as they had that day when all the world seemed to sing in the glory of the first realized drawing together of fëa to fëa. Once more the light of stars, undimmed, shone on the waters and tangled in the dark strands of her long unbound hair. This time he did not refrain from his impulse, and stroked her hair and face with deliberate, loving affection.

“No other oath will I honor now save to love thee, my lady-wife, for as long as we are given, if thou wilt have me,” vowed Aegnor, “Fëa and hróa thine alone and, if the Valar grant it and it please thee, a child.”

Bowing her head, Andreth wept away the bitter tears and regrets of a life bereft of love. Aegnor cradled her as she released from her heart the grief that had so long beset her. In his clear, enchanting voice Aegnor sang to his love, one of the myriad songs of his creating, in memory of a love undeclared by a heart fully given. 

*****

Through the night hours they sat and spoke softly one to the other of memories and dreams and hopes unfulfilled till the dawning of the first day in a world refreshed, free of demands and duties.

Wandering through the woods the next day, they found at length, beneath a stand of fragrant pines, a pavilion of moss green material, ingredients for a simple meal and makings for a fire conveniently stacked nearby. With companionable ease, they prepared fire and food, sharing both tasks and conversation. Friendship renewed, they set the camp in order.

Peering into the spacious tent, Andreth found a thick pile of bedding neatly folded, and two plain chests. Opening one she passed her hand over the topmost of the assortment of male clothing it contained. Turning her attention to the chest on the opposite side, she discovered an array of feminine articles.

Atop the rest lay an under-shift of pale green with ribbons of a darker shade to lace up the front. Lifting it up she blushed to see how transparent it appeared. Clearly it would hide nothing. She had never owned such a dainty and daring item and hurriedly replaced it in the chest just as Aegnor poked his head in to see what delayed her.

He also inspected the contents of the chests and grinned broadly when he held up the foam-green gown, for among elves it was called the bonding-gown. Noticing Andreth’s pink cheeks, he then drew forth from his chest the male equivalent, a mid-thigh length tunic in a pale chestnut color, with silver bindings, also for easy frontal opening.

Letting down the privacy hangings on either side of the pavilion, they shed their time of singleness and clothed themselves as befitting the culmination of their binding. Aegnor prepared the bedding and took a deep breath, attempting to achieve a calmness he felt not at all.

“Andreth?” he called affectionately. He could hear her rapid breathing and the tempo of her wildly beating heart.

When at last she pulled back the hanging, and hesitantly stepped forth, it took all his vaunted elven discipline to maintain his distance. Let her come to you, he told himself, as he witnessed the indecisiveness of her movements. She had not as yet looked up, as if afraid of what might confront her innocent gaze.

“Fairest lady, wilt thou join now with me, hróa to hróa, completing the betrothal-vow given and received?” he uttered in a voice hushed with restrained desire.

Eyes downcast she edged closer to him, looking first at his long, slim bare feet. Slowly she followed the trail up along lightly muscled calves to the heavier shaping of male thighs clearly revealed through the thin fabric of his tunic. And there she closed her eyes and slowly reopened them to behold a pale elegant neck and slender, but well muscled, shoulders and chest. She followed the arm down to his waist and, once again, her modesty forbade further sight.

His strong slender fingers cupped her chin and tilted her head up to gaze in rapt wonder at her face. When her eyes refused to open he leaned forward and kissed each lid tenderly. Her shyness warmed him. The careful draping of her waist length hair cast forward to hide her loveliness, stirred him profoundly. Reaching forward he parted the veil of her hair and lightly fingered the ribbon.

She gasped as she felt his touch and wide-eyed she stared at him, panic and passion warring within her. His smile, filled with a matching desire, tipped the scales on the side of passion.

Sliding his hands down her back to stop at her slim waist he paused, then bent his lips to hers in a tentative kiss. Her tension melted and, drawing back a step, her smile turned to laughter.

“How chaste is the passion of elves!” she teased.

Grinning he retorted, “Timid as a doe, then bold as an untamed mare; is this the way of mortal women?”

“For a moment I had forgotten you have always been my dear and trusted friend. What have I to fear? Why should I tremble at your ardor? The unknown with you was always a great adventure. As we explored the lands round about Ladros, let us investigate this new territory,” Andreth rejoiced in her new-found freedom.

Aegnor laughed with her as she spun away from him, hair and gown swirling gracefully.

“Teach me of the pleasure of wedded life with an elf, my love,” Andreth spoke boldly, standing with her hands braced against her slender hips in a daring gesture of demand.

Aegnor sank gracefully to the bedding and beckoned Andreth to him. She danced within reach then retreated, repeating the tempting maneuver until he could bear it no longer. Lightning fast he leapt up and captured her, one arm around her waist, the other tangled in her dark tresses, and pressed his mouth firmly against hers. Leading her to the bedding, he laid her gently down.  He then rolled onto his back and waited.

Sitting up she now studied the virtually unclad quiescent male form.

Startling him, she exclaimed, “You have no body hair!”

 “I am an elf,” he stated with feigned dignity.

 Andreth grinned at this seemingly haughty remark. “Though males seem to have much in common, be they elf or man.” Then another thought occurred to her. “There are also rumors of the stoic nature of elf-kind about which I have serious doubts. Would you care to demonstrate this attribute?” she taunted him.

“Even among elves there are limits to our ability to endure beyond our capacity,” Aegnor responded evenly.

Andreth gazed into the alert eyes of the elf as she traced with her finger tip the outline of one sensitive, curved ear tip. His eyes closed for a long blink and opened to expose their grey depths darkened with desire. “My dear elf, you are showing little self-control. Please concentrate!” she mocked him playfully.

She trailed her fingers lightly down his chest, across his abdomen, but with a sudden change of tactics, she boldly clasped his sleekly muscled thigh.

His ragged gasp and hands clenching at the bedding was answer enough.

She leaned over him and kissed him, and he pulled her down to press against him.

“You win, Andreth, I can resist you no longer,” he conceded.

Then with great gentleness he wooed his mortal wife.

“Yet one thing more I would learn, my lord,” she whispered in his ear, “Ere we join together.”

He paused wholly unwillingly and sought her eyes before he said as lightly as possible in his current condition, “Another test of the reserved manner of elves, my love?”

“You said ‘…and, if the Valar grant it and, if it please thee, a child.’ Is this achieved as among Men?”

Puzzled Aegnor replied, “Husband and wife determine together the begetting day for the child. How other would it be?”

“Among my people it is mere chance, not choice, that brings forth a child, sooner than we might wish at times. In the East lands on occasion a child would come of an unwilling forced union, between two strangers who never dwelt together as wedded couple, or from two who sought the pleasure of bedding only. It is not often done so, but it is not unknown.”

Aegnor sat up in shock. “Can this be true? Even the wild creatures have set roles for the begetting of their young. Ungoverned behavior such as you describe must be a great burden. That you feel no troubling to marry again after the death of a mate, I have been told, but to couple as animals with little or no regard for the other is unimaginable.” He shuddered at the thought.

Andreth sat up as well and with loving hands caressed the tensed body next to her. “Let us not trouble ourselves with the deeds, or misdeeds, of Men,” she steered the conversation back to her original inquiry, “How is it that Elves can choose the time of begetting? Would it be as with Elves or Men with us? Can you know when the moment occurs?”

Laughter bubbled from Aegnor as he relaxed under the combination of her teasing hands and spill of questions. “Truly, I had not thought such a normal event would seem strange. But in answer: we are made thus by Ilúvatar and know no other way. I know not if we may even be permitted a child; with an elf-wife yes, with a Mortal…?” His voice trailed off in uncertainty.

Shyly now, where she had been bold, she lowered her eyes and quietly stated, “I wish very much for a child with you, my lord.”

Startled yet again, he responded, “With this, our first joining?”

Smiling she asked, “Is it not possible?”

Aegnor sighed, “Possible? Perhaps, though never have I heard of so soon a begetting. Does it occur so in Men?”

“Silly elf, it is not at all uncommon among Men, but then we do not bind fëar as do elves.”

“Andreth, my beloved, this first joining is unique to an elf and deserves to be set apart from all other couplings between husband and wife thereafter. My ability to beget a child with you may well depend on the strength of the fëa bonding.”

“I am curious about this ‘elven-bonding’ I hear of from your lips. Would you bring them closer that I might hear in my heart and body what your mouth speaks?” She coaxed him to resume their loving with fingers as well as speech. He succumbed readily to her wishes.

Loosing the ribbon he spread back the sheer fabric and began the introductory education of his betrothed wife. By the time he shed his own ornamental tunic, she was well-schooled as to certain of the arts of elven love-making.

With his lips barely brushing hers Aegnor slid gently within her, felt a barrier yield to his inward pressure, only to be stunned at the muted yelp from Andreth. Stilling instantly, he looked intently at her face, before withdrawing and, with an effortless push, he rolled onto his side, still watching her closely.

With a self-conscious smile she explained, “It is merely the opening of the gates of womanhood and the certain sign of purity; a brief wounding only. Is it not so with an elf-woman?”

“Until betrothed there is no call for sexual desire among elves, and never an unwed union. What indeed would be the purpose?”

Andreth laughed wistfully, “Oh, Aegnor, is it so simple for your people to refrain from the mere pleasuring of one another for the satisfaction of the body?”

From his perplexed expression she concluded that to him it was utterly foreign in concept, much less in deed. She stretched invitingly. “Since we are pledged to each other, I would entreat you to finalize our union…my husband.” The last words were a shaky whisper, as his fingers trailed lazily over her breasts.

Prior to resuming the breathtaking journey towards the consummation of their marriage, Aegnor consulted with his lover-wife. “Need you rest for a space?”

In answer she drew his face to hers, then with a slight twisting motion, brought his ear within easy reach of her mouth. The uncontrollable tremor that passed through him caused her to grin. Softly she spoke into his captive ear words of encouragement, “Aegnor, partake of the feast I have set before you.  As my lord and my love, I invite you.”

Again he entered her, this time meeting no obstructions, and her obvious enjoyment dispelled any lingering concerns from his mind. With unhurried delight he brought them through the time of her intensely pleasurable physical surrender and to the moment of his own liberation from restraint.

“Andreth, wife of my heart, now become the wife of my body. Receive within you the evidence of my love for you. As the gate of a mortal woman stands guard to her purity, so with a male elf a shield in the mind is set that is not lowered until the wedded union.” As he released himself into her, he sought her fëa.

Thou radiant fëa, hear my call. Mingle your light with mine, embrace my light with yours.

 As with our fëar, so now with our hróar; the binding we complete. A single being create of us Ilúvatar that we dwell forever, each in the other. 

Though single in hróa, we shall be bound in fëar, Andreth and Aegnor, a tapestry woven of our love.

Andreth silently voiced her amazement. 

Aegnor? Welcome, my husband! Be all as you have said, my lord. 

*****

Time flowed gently the next few days with rising of sun and moon as elf and mortal found great joy in the simple pleasures of attending together to daily life. Foraging nearby, they found an abundance of wholesome foods.  A clear stream at the edge of the site provided plentiful water and seasoned firewood lay round about in profusion. There was even a small cache of tools, including an axe, knives for various uses, a hunting bow and arrows. The lack of a powerful battle-bow and arrows, long gleaming sword, shield or other means of defending themselves troubled Andreth.

“Aegnor, is this land protected by one such as the Queen Melian, that we have no need for weapons?” she asked with trepidation.

“Meldanya, greater powers than those of Melian guard these lands. Even so there dwell no fell creatures within these realms, near or far,” Aegnor responded.

Taken aback she stammered, “Where…is this place? That it is not Dorthonion I well know, but I thought it a safeguarded country of Elves.”

“Tol Eressëa it is called among my people. The Lonely Isle. Many seasons, those of my father’s House would dwell here amid kin of my mother. The scent of the sea and the distant cry of the seabird bespeak the evidence. All living things, and even the scent of the air and the song, differ from Aman.  Only lightly was this isle graced by the Light of the Two Trees.”

“A strange name, my lord. Why is it so named?” Andreth queried.

“For long it rose alone in the midst of the great Sea. Ulmo took it then for a ship to bring Elves from Middle-Earth to Aman, where now it stands sentinel for the Blessed Realm, alone once more, belonging to no land, though most especially loved by the Teler-folk,” he replied. 

*****

So with their basic needs met they turned to journeys of exploration, both of the country round about and of their wedded union.

She discovered that the fëa bond seemed to satisfy to a large extent the urge to join in body which seemed to preoccupy those wedded mortal pairs she had observed.

“Aegnor, how is it that our coupling is notably less than other married pairs I have observed and yet I feel in all ways content?” Andreth queried as she reclined against his chest.

Laughing softly, Aegnor wrapped his arms about her and answered kindly, “Have your people no awareness of the joys of fëa-binding that extend beyond the physical?”

“Never having been wed to a man, I can give no certain facts, but I have no evidence that it be so among Men. Can you explain the difference?” Andreth asked.

“Gladly, meldanya, though a practical demonstration would better satisfy your curiosity.” Aegnor grinned at the prospect of this novel lesson, and once again marveled at the rare pleasures and discoveries with this, his lover-wife.

“Close your eyes,” he said, and began the experiment.

She closed her eyes and sighing happily, relaxed in his embrace, awaiting with interest this intriguing new aspect of their bonding.

“What feel you now, love,” Aegnor whispered in her ear.

“You tease, my husband and, though light your touch, you caress my cheek with your hand.”

Aegnor smiled fondly as she leaned her head to deepen the welcome caress.

“Truly?”

When she reached up to verify her feelings, naught but her own skin did she encounter.

Amazed she opened her eyes and looked down to where both his hands rested over her abdomen.

“How was that done?”

“Fëa-touch.”

Andreth shook her head in wonderment and chuckled, closed her eyes and waited. This time the sensation was easily noted as his fingers lightly brushed her hip and her questing hand found evidence of the fact.

“Both are a joy, my love. A lesson well worth the learning,” she stated breathlessly. Still glowing with growing passion, she was unprepared for the last exercise as his hand tenderly cupped her breast and his fëa simultaneously caressed her fëa.

Gasping with pleasure she barely managed to speak, “Aegnor…”

Responding to the mounting desire of his wife, Aegnor acceded to her longings with equal enthusiasm.

*******

Much later Andreth gazed at her utterly content husband. “And for you, dear one? Teach me that I may return fëa-touch in kind to you?”

He was quiet for a long moment, then replied gently, “Alas, my beloved, already I have tried to encourage your response. It would seem not to be learned, but rather a Gift to Elves.”

At her crestfallen expression he continued, “Pleasures unforeseen and fresh we share aplenty. Mourn not what we are denied.”

Though she was disappointed, she nodded slowly and stroked his face, “You forgo much to have a mortal maid to wife, my lord. May it never be a burden too heavy for thee.”

Cupping her face in his powerful hands, he fixed her eyes with a penetrating look and, opening his fëa to her with a transparent vulnerability, finally he spoke in hushed tones, “Bright star of my life, in thee alone I found a fëa that enthralled me. Thy love, sweet and true, is a meet solace for any loss so minor. Agony it was for me to farewell thee without the words of love spoken that burned in my heart, never to experience the ecstasy of bonding and wedded life joined to thee.”

“Twin calls to kin and duty, and the dread hope that thou might wed among thy own people were I absent, kept me from thy side. Even had all reason been cast away, our life together would have been fraught with danger and separation from those we best loved. For thee I would forsake all, but to know that ere we had well begun thou would decline to an unwilling acceptance of the Gift to Men, caused my heart to quail.”

“Memory, clear as the Light of the Two Trees, is a gift to the Elves, and to hold forever the image of thy vital beauty, a treasure to my fëa. Thy shame at the fading before my loving eyes for that which thee couldst not alter, I could not bear. Though elves may die, decay of flesh we know not, and can scarce abide the waning of lesser beings; all good beasts and growing things.”

“Rather would I keep pure my heart and body, than accept the love of another, though she be Elf-kind, radiant as the sunrise, kind as summer, beautiful as glimmering stars, holding the promise of unguessed delight. For in thee all these joys I found in full measure.”

He fell silent, gauging her reaction to this confession of his regretful decision.

Tears trailing down her cheeks, she grasped his strong warrior hands in her smaller, soft pair and drew him to her. Embracing him she wept quietly against his chest. They rested so for some few moments. Then turning from Aegnor she walked a short way off and began to speak as if to the brilliant blue sky above their heads.

“My love has always been in thy keeping, my husband, though bitterness and anger at thy supposed betrayal drove me near mad. And so I earned the title “Wise” for my delvings into pursuits of the mind and those close-guarded secrets of our kind. These latter drew the curious interest of Finrod, King of Nargothrond, but never the welcome converse with Finrod, brother to Aegnor. Often would thy brother, the king, seek me out for speech of hidden things, yet no word of thee brought he to ease my sorrow.”

 “One time only he spoke of you.”

She related the words:

 “Thus spoke Finrod, 'Adaneth, I tell thee, Aikanar the Sharp-flame loved thee. For thy sake now he will never take the hand of any bride of his own kindred, but live alone to the end, remembering the morning in the hills of Dorthonion. But too soon in the North-wind his flame will go out! Foresight is given to the Eldar in many things not far off, though seldom of joy, and I say to thee thou shalt live long in the order of your kind, and he will go forth before thee and he will not wish to return.'”*

“Then other hurtful words he gave to me, fanning my despair to new heights, yet of comfort I found he had none to soothe me.”

“Unmindful of what thou would suffer in return for such brief love, flames of anger and loss overwhelmed me and, resentful at thy abandonment, Her tone spoke of unequivocal outrage. I spurned all proffered consolations, preferring that relentless pain inflicted by thy Sharp Flame. Better the fading memories of thy silent, distant love kept inviolate than to wed and bed another, and bear children that were not of thee and me. Not for me a loveless, and an empty, marriage.”

Aegnor spoke quietly, “Finrod told me of thy love… and thy anger with me. Can we not put the past behind, dear love?”

A feather-light touch stroked the crown of her head, hands coming to rest on her tense shoulders. Raising a hand to accept his terms, she was surprised to find nothing but her own shoulders.

Twirling about she saw that Aegnor had not moved toward her, but stood rooted in place awaiting her answer. A brief frown furrowed her face as she contemplated the advantages and disadvantages of fëa-touch.

Lingering resentment smoldered still, and with a voice harsher than she intended she muttered, “Do not play love-games, Aegnor.”

Shamefaced he responded, “You need only deny me, beloved, I shall not force thee.”

“How is this done, Elf? We mortals know only honest touch,” she flared in unreason.

“Deny me,” Aegnor repeated, unable to explain more fully.

How?”

He pondered the teaching of this technique, then brightening he suggested almost flippantly, “Feign I have become an orc.”

Almost instantly he clutched his head as a sharp lance of pain shocked him, his fair face even paler as he winced.

“Control...we must work on your control.”

Contrite and concerned Andreth came to him and put her hands over his in appeasement. His wan smile, however, urged her to retort pertly, “So, Elf, you also are vulnerable.”

“Doubt not that of Elves and Men, none can do me worse hurt; my mind was full open to thee in trust and love.”

Andreth drew his head down and claimed the lips of her dearly loved husband, forgiving the past in that unguarded moment. Joy filled them both with the unconscious (on her part) restoration of fëa contact.

Aegnor sank gracefully to the ground, sat cross-legged, then smiled up at Andreth inviting her to join him. She sat in the space between his legs drawing her legs up close to his and leaned back against his comforting warmth. Twisting slightly, she pressed her ear to his chest to listen to the steady, rhythmic beating of his loving heart. He bent to place a kiss on her dark head, peace and harmony restored.

*Morgoth’s Ring - page 324

TBC