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Elf, Interrupted: Book One: Glorfindel Redux  by Fiondil

56: Repercussions

Laurendil and Manwen were not seen by any for nearly three days. Eärnur came from his meeting with Lord Irmo the next morning looking both bemused and happy. Finrod, when he finally appeared, was solemn and few had the courage to approach him. Yet, he was courtesy itself if any had the occasion to speak to him. The elves who had been witnesses to the oath-taking looked upon the former King of Nargothrond with awe, especially those who remembered the confused ellon who had come to them from Mandos hiding in trees and generally acting the elfling.

Now they saw him in a different light and not a few felt their jaws drop when they happened to see him conversing with one of the Maiar, who then gave Finrod a most deferential bow before departing. Those who witnessed this noticed that Finrod showed neither embarrassment nor discomfort at the Maia’s show of deep respect.

Eärnur was reluctant to seek out Finrod but he had been given his instructions and so, two days after the oath-taking he came to Finrod’s pavilion shortly after the morning meal. Finrod met him with a smile, his manner easy and unaffected.

"How are you, mellon nîn?" Finrod asked in Sindarin.

"I am well, a-aran nîn," Eärnur answered somewhat hesitantly in the same language, stumbling over the title, not sure how to address this elf who had become a stranger to him overnight.

Finrod frowned slightly and shook his head. "Now, Eärnur, you need not use that form of address with me. I am not your king. Olwë is and you owe your allegiance to him alone. I am, I hope, your friend, and as a friend, you should call me Finrod."

At the hesitation and embarrassment he saw in Eärnur’s eyes, he smiled wryly. "I can always make that an order," he said, amusement deep in his eyes.

Eärnur started at the words but then he recognized the humor of Finrod’s statement and started laughing.

"That’s better," Finrod said with a nod. "I take it you’re here for another Sindarin lesson?"

Eärnur nodded. "Lord Irmo says I am to report to either you or Laurendil each morning after breakfast for one hour of lessons."

Finrod nodded, taking a chair and indicating that Eärnur should take another. "Well, then, let us begin...."

****

When Laurendil and Manwen finally emerged from their pavilion they both were diffident in Finrod’s presence. Manwen especially felt shy before him, not sure how she was to act or speak.

Finrod put them at ease with his warm smile and gentle laughter and Manwen was surprised that nothing had actually changed between them, or so it seemed. He was still respectful of her and teasing of Laurendil. Yet, there was something there, something indefinable between them that had not existed before and she was unsure how to respond to it.

She also found that nothing had changed in her status as an apprentice. True, some of the other apprentices and journeymen, not to mention one or two of the masters, looked upon her with some disquiet, though no one was actually rude to her. However, she was not unduly upset by it, not having been there long enough to form any attachments with the other Lóriennildi. Still, she was embarrassed by the stares.

One thing that did change was that Laurendil willingly donned the tabard that they found hanging next to hers on the third morning after the oath-taking. Manwen found that she enjoyed having her husband by her side as they attended lectures and tutorials together. She was even more pleased when Finrod joined them for some of the classes.

Laurendil, for his part, found that being an apprentice was not as onerous as he had thought, or hoped. As the days went by and he became more and more involved with the rhythm of life that was typical of an apprentice Lóriennildo, he found some part of him settling in, becoming more comfortable, and he realized that there had always been a part of his fëa that had never been at ease, never at rest. Now it was and he felt happier and more content than he had ever felt before. He found that he even enjoyed helping those who came to Lórien for healing or the Reborn attempting to reclaim their lives and felt deep satisfaction when one of his charges (he refused to use the term ‘patient’ as many Lóriennildi did) thanked him, even though he had done little more than hold their hands as they poured out their grief or anger or confusion.

Finrod, everyone noticed, seemed to have grown in stature after that night. There was a deeper level of maturity that stunned them and he moved among them with a grace that was astonishing to behold. As he began to interact more with the Reborn or others come to Lórien for healing the Amaneldi witnessed the most amazing scenes. Elves who had been nearly catatonic with the terrors and griefs they had experienced in Middle-earth upon their arrival in Aman became responsive with but a single touch or a soft word from Finrod, often rising from their beds to fall to their knees in near adoration of one who for many was but a figure out of legend.

Among the Reborn he showed great patience and humor and could often be found singing softly an ancient lullaby accompanied by the harp whenever one of them proved especially restless and uncooperative. Any who heard his voice and the playing of the harp felt great peace and even the Lóriennildi felt refreshed by the song.

It was nearly a week and a half after the oath-taking when Manwen experienced an emotional crisis. She and Laurendil were attending a lecture with other apprentices given by Master Meneldil. While neither of them cared for the master healer, they had to admit that he was very knowledgeable of his craft and they learned much from him. Finrod was also attending the lecture, sitting towards the back, having arrived late.

As they were sitting there in one of the groves reserved for such things, one of the other apprentices was answering a question put to her by the master when something in Manwen snapped and she found herself weeping uncontrollably. Everyone stopped to stare and Meneldil looked particularly put out by the elleth’s hysterics. Laurendil wrapped his arms around his wife in an attempt to comfort her but she would not cease weeping.

"Laurendil," Meneldil exclaimed in anger, "if you cannot control your wife..."

"Enough, Meneldil."

Everyone turned in surprise at the ring of authority that came from Finrod who now was striding towards Laurendil and Manwen. Meneldil turned white with shock. Laurendil looked up at Finrod.

"Aranya, I can’t get her to stop," he said, nearly weeping himself, fear and concern for Manwen filling him.

"Hush, meldonya," Finrod said kindly. "All will be well. Let me have her. Here, my daughter, why these tears? Hush now, ammeldanya, be at peace."

He helped her to rise and took her into his arms, gently rubbing her back, speaking in soft tones that nonetheless held great authority in them. "You’ve been very brave these last few days and I know you are feeling some confusion, but it will pass and you will see that nothing has truly changed with you."

"Wh-what did I do?" Manwen stammered. "Please, ar-aranya, what did I do?"

"What you did was nothing less than to pledge your life to me," Finrod explained gently. "I now hold it in my keeping. With your oath you have given me permission to use your life as I think necessary, even so far as to demand your death." Manwen gave a strangled sob and the others looking on shivered at the expression on Finrod’s face, cold and implacable, and they sensed that he would indeed take the elleth’s life if necessary, yet his eyes and voice were full of compassion. "Hush now, what is done is done, my daughter, and cannot be undone," he said, gently releasing her from his embrace. "Now dry these tears. I don’t like my people getting me all wet like this. It does nothing for my image."

The dryness of his tone and the glint of humor in his eyes forced a giggle out of the elleth and then she was laughing. Finrod nodded.

"That’s better, my dear. Now, look what I have for you." He pulled out a small velvet bag from under his tabard. "I’m afraid I’ve been rather neglectful of my duty to you." He handed her the bag and she opened it somewhat hesitantly and gasped, pulling out a necklace of linked mithril chain from which hung a single large heart-shaped amethyst with peridot gemstones surrounding it.

"If you will permit me," Finrod said, taking the necklace from her. She nodded mutely and, lifting her locks, allowed him to place it around her neck. She looked down at the exquisite gift, the amethyst and peridot pendant lying between her breasts. The mingling of their colors in the sunlight was reminiscent of the purple-green shades of twilight.

"It... it’s beautiful," she murmured.

Finrod smiled. "It is now."

"But I can’t accept this!" she protested.

"Ah, but you have no choice, my dear," Finrod said with a laugh. "It is my duty and my joy as your liege lord to gift you on the occasion of your taking oath to me. It is your duty to accept."

Manwen turned to Laurendil, a look of wonder in her eyes. "Do you... I mean... did he..."

"Yes, my love," Laurendil laughed, taking her in his arms and planting a kiss on her lips. "See, this ring is Finrod’s gift to me." He held up his left hand and she noticed, as if for the first time, a mithril ring set with a single amethyst surrounded by peridot gemstones. She looked enquiringly at Finrod, who merely shrugged.

"I thought you should have a matched set of jewelry," he said in a droll tone.

Laurendil snorted and Manwen found herself rolling her eyes and giggling. Meneldil, who had been fuming silently all the while, chose this time to speak.

"Perhaps, your Majesty," Meneldil sneered, "if you are finished holding your audience we may continue with this lecture."

Finrod had to physically hold Laurendil back from attacking the master healer right then and there. Manwen went white with cold fury as well and managed to elude Finrod’s grasp as she strode towards the Vanyarin healer.

"You haven’t the right to use that form of address even in jest, Master Meneldil," she said softly. "I might respectfully suggest you apologize to Lord Findaráto before every Sinda and... and Etyangol in Lórien rises up in arms against you."

"And they would, too."

Lord Irmo was suddenly in their midst, smiling at the furious elleth who merely nodded to him without taking her eyes off the master healer. He glanced over at Finrod, still holding Laurendil back and sighed.

"Honestly, I’m beginning to regret ever having asked you here, Findaráto," the Vala said in feigned exasperation. "You’ve been nothing but trouble since you arrived."

"First of all, my lord, you ordered me here and second..." Finrod’s eyes glinted with some undefinable dark emotion, yet there was a hint of humor in them as well. "Sauron said the same thing... just before he set his werewolf on me."

Laurendil’s mouth hung open as he stared at Finrod, his anger towards Meneldil forgotten. Everyone else was equally stunned by the Elf-lord’s words. "Aranya," Laurendil whispered in a strangled voice. "You are very dangerous."

Finrod’s smile was cold and fell. "The orcs at the Dagor Bragollach seemed to think so."

Irmo merely rolled his eyes and sighed, then turned his attention to Meneldil, his expression not unkindly. "My son, I think you should do as Lady Manwen says and apologize to Lord Findaráto for your remarks. While he is indeed an apprentice, Findaráto is also the firstborn son of the Noldóran and great-nephew to the Ingaran. Not to mention a king in his own right, though Nargothrond now lies beneath the waves. Some respect should be shown."

Meneldil took a deep breath then bowed towards Finrod. "I beg your forgiveness, my lord. My anger got the better of me."

"I accept your apology, Master Meneldil," Finrod said with all sincerity, "if you will accept mine for...er... holding court in the middle of your lecture."

For a moment Meneldil simply stared at the Noldo lord and then a slow smile creased his lips and he bowed again, more deeply. "I think I can see my way to forgiving you, my lord."

"Well, now that that’s over and done with," Irmo said, sounding satisfied, "I think, Manwen, you might benefit by spending some time keeping company with my sister, Nienna. She has offered her house for your use and I think you should accept."

Manwen turned to Irmo in surprise. "B-but what about my studies? I just got here."

"Oh, my sister is quite capable of tutoring you, my dear," Irmo said somewhat dismissively. "You will not fall behind in your studies if you go."

Finrod spoke then. "It might be for the best, Manwen. You need a time of solitude and reflection after what has happened."

Manwen looked at Finrod doubtfully. "A-are you ordering me to go, aranya?"

The Noldo smiled and shook his head. "No, my dear. This is your decision to make."

"What about Laurendil?"

"Oh, he’s not invited," Nienna said as she suddenly appeared, a smile on her face. "He will remain here and continue his own studies, won’t you, Laurendil?"

Laurendil bowed. "Be iest lîn, hiril nîn."

Nienna nodded and moved to put an arm around Manwen’s shoulders. "Then it’s settled, my dear. You will come and stay with me for a while."

"But for how long will I be gone?" Manwen asked, sounding confused and embarrassed.

It was Finrod who answered her, placing his hands on either side of her face. "For as long as you need to, daughter. There is no shame in the length of time it takes. Return to us when you are ready. We will be here."

"I assume I’m at least allowed to see my wife off?" Laurendil asked no one in particular.

"Well, only if you insist," Nienna said with a sigh, winking at Manwen who giggled.

With that, Laurendil and Manwen took their leave of Finrod and Irmo (in that order) then allowed Nienna to lead them away. Irmo then motioned for Finrod to follow him and soon Meneldil was left to continue his lecture. His heart wasn’t in it, though, and the apprentices weren’t paying attention anyway so it was not long before he dismissed them. As he wandered out of the grove in search of his own pavilion, he wondered if he was in the wrong profession.

****

Ammeldanya: (Quenya) My best beloved [an- (intensive or superlative prefix with assimilation) + melda + -nya (first person singular pronomial possessive ending)].

Amethyst: A purple stone and, when given as a gift, symbolic of protection and the power to overcome difficulty. Often worn by healers as it focuses energy. That Finrod chose this particular stone for Laurendil’s ring, as well, is perhaps due to Finrod’s gift of foresight.

Peridot: A green stone, and when worn together with an amethyst, symbolic of purity and moral integrity. It is also a protector against negative emotions.

Ingaran: (Quenya) High King [inga "high" + aran "king"], referring to Ingwë.

Be iest lîn, hiril nîn: (Sindarin) "As you wish, my lady".





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