Chapter 2: Mereth Aderthad (FA 20)

"Cálion, what in Arda are you doing?"

"Shhh, Itaril. Get down, or else they'll see you," answered the young elf. He was sprawled on the ground next to a boulder, looking down the hill at the host of green elves walking below.

Itarillë Turukániel sighed, but crouched down beside Cálion's boulder and prodded him in the side. "Why are you hiding from them, Inglorion?"

"Have you ever seen anything so... wild?"

Startled, Itarillë focused her gaze on the back of the child's head. 'Well, I guess for one who has only seen the high Noldor and the Sindar of Doriath, the Laiquendi were a bit strange,' she thought. Even the Sindar were closer to their Amanyar cousins.

Itarillë remembered seeing a Laiquendi chieftain who had come to speak with her grandfather. He and his followers had looked so strange among the glittering mail and bright banners of the High King's house. "Rustic" her grandmother had called them, in their clothes of greens and browns, and their long dark hair in their eyes.

Their eyes... yes, Itarillë remembered those. The eyes of her people shone with the light of the two Trees of Aman. Those of the Sindar and the Falathrim, with the light of the stars; less bright, but no less piercing. The light of the Laiquendi was as light filtered through the leaves, and as deep as the roots of the oldest tree. Yes, perhaps wild was the proper term. One felt somehow that these Nandor were more perilous than any other quendi she had seen.

"Come, Cálion," she whispered, shaking his foot to get his attention. "Your father and aunts are looking for you."

Cálion wrinkled his nose and turned to glare at Itarillë.

She tried another tactic. "Your father wants you with him when he greets the Moriquendi lords. I am sure you will be able to meet these Laiquendi in person. Is that not better than spying on them? Come," she said, seizing the child's momentary indecision to grab his hand and pull him up.

Cálion sighed and walked after Itarillë. "Does this mean that I have to wear that stiff tunic again?"

Itarillë laughed. "Well, unless you think it more seemly for the cilmyondo of the head of the House of Arafinwë to appear before visiting dignitaries looking like the son of a shepherd, with grass-stains on his clothes and grass in his hair," she said as she picked a leaf off of his tunic.

Cálion sighed again, and turned to look once more at the troop of Laiquendi. They were not really that far behind them now. The leader looked directly at Cálion and smiled. The young elf smiled back, slightly startled, and hurried to catch up with the daughter of Turukáno.

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"Atto! There are..." Cálion burst into Findárato's tent and stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide as platters. There before him were his foster-father, and his uncles Angárato and Aikanáro, and his aunts Artanis, Eldalotë and Eärnyellë, and... the strangest creature he had ever seen. It was taller than everyone in the room except Findárato, and shaped like an elf. But its long silver hair grew from its chin and face, as well as its head. Its eyes, though, were unlike anything that Cálion had ever seen: deep as wells and restless as the sea. The creature smiled at the child and chuckled, his eyes shining like stars.

Findárato smiled, as well, and turned to his foster-son. "Cálion, I would like you to meet Lord Círdan, lord of the elves of the Falas. Lord Círdan, my son, Cálion."

Cálion, meanwhile, edged over to stand behind Findárato, mouth still open. He was, being nearly thirty, too old to hide behind his atar like he was barely a decade, but he was not quite sure that he believed Findárato that this hairy creature before him was an elf.

"Ma nas Quendë?" he whispered.

The reaction of the other elves was immediate. "Véryangólion!" cried the Lady Artanis. "Tancavë! Ro ná Elda."

Eärnyellë looked like she was trying very hard to hold in her mirth; a task which became harder when she looked at the horrified faces of her younger brothers-in-law. Círdan and Findárato just laughed.

"Ah, be calm, hiril nîn," said Círdan, his eyes still dancing. "The boy has caused no offense." Then he turned to Cálion. "Come here, hên nîn."

Cálion looked up at Findárato, who nodded and stepped out of his way. The young elf cautiously walked up to the Shipwright. "Manen...? Mana...?"

"Why does my hair grow on my face, hên nîn?" Cálion nodded. Again Círdan laughed. (Cálion liked the Shipwright's laugh; it reminded him of long forgotten memories of the waves of Alqualondë.) "Ah, now many are the songs the Falathrim sing about that. Someday I shall sing them for you, and you shall decide which you like best."

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"Atto, guess what I saw!" Cálion once again came running into the front meeting area of Findárato's green and silver tent; this time, though, from the back living quarters. His feet were bare and his hair was still wet from his bath. He was wearing a good pair of dark green leggings and a matching silk under tunic, but he seemed to have run out before putting on his over tunic, or letting Eärnyellë fix his hair.

Círdan had left shortly after Eärnyellë led the young elf off to wash up, and now only Aikanáro remained talking with Findárato.

"What did you see, yondo?" Findárato asked, beckoning Cálion to come and sit by him on a large trunk. After he sat down, Findárato put an arm across his shoulders and drew him close against his side.

"Atto!" Cálion laughed. "You'll get your tunic all wet, and then Aunt Nyellë will scold you, too!"

"That's alright, yondo, I am the lord of our house. I think I can weather your aunt's scolding," Findárato replied, laughing and winking at his chuckling brother. "Now, are you going to tell us about your adventure?"

But before Cálion could tell his father and uncle about spying on the Laiquendi, Eärnyellë's voice was heard from the back.

"Cálion! Come back here and let me finish your hair!"

Findárato looked down at his foster-son.

"I escaped before Aunt Nyellë knew I was out of my bath," Cálion said sheepishly.

His father and uncle only smiled and shook their heads.

As Eärnyellë walked into the room she shook her head and pointed the comb in her hand at Findárato. "I tell you, Findárato, you are just as bad as your son. I hope you were planning on changing before Lord Nolofinwë calls the Gathering."

Cálion looked at the large wet spot on his father's side and gave him a sympathetic 'I told you so' look. Aikanáro laughed heartily.

"Yes, amil," said Findárato with a smile. "I will change. But Cálion had something very important to tell me." He looked down at his foster-son. "Yes, yondonya?"

Cálion looked thoughtful for a moment. "Atto, have you ever seen a real Laiquendë?"

"Sure I have, Cálion, and so have you. There are Laiquendi in Doriath."

Cálion's brow wrinkled in perplexity. "But none of the people in Aran Thingol's home look like the Laiquendi I saw walking into the camp today. Why do they look so different? Why are they so wild-looking?"

"I'll tell you what, yondo," Findárato answered, looking at Eärnyellë. "If you sit still and let your Aunt Nyellë fix your hair, I'll tell you about the Laiquendi. How does that sound?"

Cálion nodded his head eagerly, and sat with his back to Eärnyellë.

"Do you remember learning about Cuiviénen and the Great Journey, Cálion?" Findárato asked.

Cálion nodded and said, "Yes, Atto. Enyalmo has been telling me about the Great Journey, and I know some of the songs that you and Aunt Nyellë sing about Cuiviénen."

"Good, and do you remember the different kindreds of the Quendi?"

"I think so," said Cálion, thinking hard back to his lessons with Enyalmo the lore-master. "There are the Vanyar, the Noldor and the Teleri in Aman. My Ammë was a Vanya, and we are Noldor," he finished brightly.

Eärnyellë chuckled. "And my amil is a Teler," she said.

"As is ours," said Aikanáro, indicating his brother and himself.

"Very true," said Findárato, nodding at Cálion, "but what of the kindreds of the Úmanyar, hina? Do you remember those?"

"This is where it gets really confusing, Atto. I know that there are the Sindar under Aran Thingol and the Avari from across the far eastern mountains, but I don't know where the Falathrim and the Laiquendi fit in."

"Well, you know that the Teleri were the last of the three kindreds to leave Cuiviénen, right?" Cálion nodded and Findárato continued. "Well the Teleri, themselves, were split into three groups. The one under Aran Olwë finally came to Aman. Aran Thingol's people stayed here in Endor, either at the Falas with Heru Círdan or in the forests of Doriath. The third group was led by Lenwë and stayed east of the Ered Luin, until Lenwë's son brought a group into Ossiriand. It is these Ossiriandrim who are your Laiquendi," Findárato said, tickling Cálion's ribs, who shrank back into Eärnyellë and giggled.

"So they are Avari, then," concluded Cálion.

"No, Cálion," said Aikanáro. "The Avari are those who refused to leave Cuiviénen with Oromë. The Laiquendi are Eldar, like the Sindar and Falathrim, because they chose to make the Journey; but they are true Moriquendi because they neither saw the Trees, nor were they under the influence of Tári Melian. The Sindar call them Nandor because they turned back on the Road."

"But, themselves," added Eärnyellë, as she pulled her nephew into a hug, "they call Lindar, 'the singers'. I have heard Tári Melian speak of the music of the Lindar, and am looking forward to hearing them tonight at the Feast."

"But they look so different from everyone else. They are all dressed in green and brown, and do not carry swords or ride horses," said Cálion.

"They are a forest people, Cálion," said Aikanáro. "They use no metal, or anything not given to them by the trees or the animals of the forest. I hear that they have become incredibly proficient with their bows, and that their woodcraft surpasses even the Sindar. Perhaps we can ask some of the Lindar to teach us of their arts while we are here, toron."

"That is a very good idea, toronincë," said Findárato. "I shall have to ask their leader, Lygnô. So, hina, does that answer your question somewhat?"

"Yes, thank you Atto, Uncle Aikanáro, Aunt Eärnyellë," Cálion said distractedly. "We have people from all of the kindreds here," he continued thoughtfully. "There are Noldor, and some, like us, who are part Vanyarin or Telerin from Aman. Daeron and Mablung are here for the Sindar; and there are the Falathrim and the Lindar."

"Yes, Sailo," said Eärnyellë. "That is why Ingaran Nolofinwë has called this feast Mereth Aderthad: it is the reuniting of kin long sundered."

Findárato smiled and raised an eyebrow at his foster-son. "How would you like to come meet the Lindar with me, yondo?"

Cálion's eyes light up immediately and he launched himself at his foster-father. "Oh, thank you, Atto!"

"I am sure there are children among the Lindar here," Findárato said as he held his son close. "Perhaps you will be able to find a friend among them closer to your age."

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Notes:

Itaril/Itarillë: Quenya forms of Idril

Turukáno: Turgon

Amanyar: the elves of Aman

Úmanyar: the elves not of Aman

Laiquendi (Laiquendë, sing.): green-elves of Ossiriand, also called Lindar and Nandor

cilmyondo: chosen-son, foster son (Q)

atar/atto: father/papa (Q)

"Ma nas Quendë?": "Is it an Elf?"

"Tancavë! Ro ná Elda.": "Certainly! He is an elf." When separated from the verb,
the masculine pronominal ending -ro becomes emphatic. I wanted to make
the distinction between he and it very apparent, hence the use of -s (in nas)
and ro. Cálion uses Quendë, instead of Elda, because he wonders that the
creature before him is even a talking being. Artanis uses Elda to try to explain
to the child that, not only is this an elf, but he is also not one of the Avari.
Cálion's question is the equivalent to our asking, "Is that human?" Hence
Artanis' ire.

hiril nîn: my lady (S)

hên nîn: my child (S)

"Manen...? Mana...?": How...? What...? (Q)

yondo: son (Q)

amil/ammë: mother/mom (Q)

aran: king (Q and S)

Cuiviénen: the lake where the elves first awoke

the Great Journey: when the three elven kindreds followed Oromë to Aman

heru: lord (Q)

Avari: "the unwilling", those elves who never left Cuiviénen

tári: queen (Q)

toron: brother (Q)

toronincë: little brother (Q)

hina: child (Q)

sailo: wise one (Q)

ingaran: high king (Q)

Mereth Aderthad: the Feast of Reuniting, took place FA 20 at the pools of Ivrin (S)