82: Furtherance

Vorondil ended up sleeping for nearly four days straight, waking now and then to eat or to tend to personal needs. Olórin or Finrod had to help him there for he was almost too weak at first either to hold a spoon or even to stand. Finrod did not venture far from the pavilion himself and even had his meals sent to him.

No one was permitted inside the grove, unless summoned. A Maia was always at the entrance. Only Laurendil and Manwen were permitted into the Ampano Arano — as some of the people in Lórien were beginning to call it — whenever they wished. Finrod, when Laurendil told him how others were referring to the grove, merely snorted in amusement.

In the meantime, rumors were rife as certain Lóriennildi were discovered to be absent without explanation. Lord Irmo and Lady Estë assured everyone that those missing were unharmed and would return to their duties after a suitable time of reflection. Then, the remaining elves were summoned one at a time to a certain grove. What occurred there, no one afterwards spoke of it, but everyone who went in came out white as a sheet and in some cases had to be carried out by an attendant Maia.

Vorondil woke suddenly early on the fourth morning, feeling ravenous and... clean was the only word he had to describe the way he felt, as if someone had scrubbed him from the inside out. As it was, he felt in sore need of a bath, and especially wished to wash his hair. He was surprised to find the Maia Olórin there when he awoke, calmly putting out bathing paraphernalia and rummaging through the wardrobe for a clean tunic for him to wear.

"Good morning, child," the Maia said with a smile. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Hungry," Vorondil replied without thinking.

Olórin grinned. "Why don’t you go bathe and when you return I’ll have breakfast waiting for you."

"Where’s my master?" the ellon asked as he rose from the bed. He was unaware of the appraising look the Maia gave him as he hunted for his dressing robe nor was he aware of the unself-conscious manner in which he had asked the question.

"Finrod is already at the baths. He left only a half an hour ago, so you might see him there."

Vorondil nodded as he gathered his things and with a shy smile thanked the Maia and headed towards the bathing grove. He never saw the Maia standing on guard at the entrance of the grove as he left.

****

Finrod was indeed at the baths, as was Laurendil. Vorondil hesitated at the entrance when he saw them together, not wishing to disturb them, but Finrod saw him and with a smile waved him over.

"It’s good to see you finally awake, youngster," Finrod said as Vorondil removed his robe and slipped into the pool. "I was about to lay bets with Laurendil as to whether you would awaken in time for New Year’s or not."

Vorondil blushed as Laurendil laughed. "I’m sorry, Master," he said apologetically. "I don’t know why I felt so weak all of a sudden."

"What do you remember, child?" Finrod asked gently, pulling the ellon over to him and putting a comforting arm around his shoulders.

For a moment Vorondil stared into the waters. "I...went to sleep and then... there was a grove I’d never seen before. You were there and... and Lord Námo."

"What happened?" Finrod asked encouragingly when Vorondil paused, looking suddenly ill.

The younger ellon looked up at his master and then he was wrapping his arms around Finrod’s neck and weeping. "Shh. There’s no need for tears, Vorondil," Finrod admonished him gently, patting him on the back. "All is well. Tell me what you remember."

Vorondil pulled back from Finrod and attempted to wipe his tears as he spoke. "L-lord Námo put a finger on my forehead and then...and then...." He looked up at Finrod again and his expression was blank with pain. "He... he made me see... things."

Finrod nodded. It was telling that Vorondil had no memory of the other Valar being present during his ordeal. "Judgment is like that," he said with a tinge of sadness in his tone. "Painful, but necessary. It’s over now. The pain is merely a memory and it can no longer harm you. How do you feel?"

"Clean," came the surprising answer.

Laurendil laughed. "Well, you are sitting in a pool of water after all."

Vorondil grinned but shook his head. "No. I mean inside me. I can’t explain it but I woke up feeling as if my... my fëa had been scrubbed clean of something filthy."

Finrod and Laurendil glanced at one another and their expressions were solemn. Vorondil blushed. "I... I’m sorry. I can’t explain it any better than that."

Finrod gave the ellon a warm smile. "I think you explained it very well, child. Now, why don’t you hand me that brush and I’ll scrub your back for you."

****

The three elves were walking back to Finrod and Vorondil’s pavilion with Vorondil between the two older elves, when they encountered Eärnur. The Lóriennildo gave them a respectful bow — or rather, gave Finrod his bow — then straightened, his expression a mixture of confusion and hurt.

"I thought we were friends," he said plaintively as he looked at Finrod.

Finrod gave him a sympathetic look. "We are, Eärnur, never doubt it."

"Then what, by all that’s holy, is going on?" the Teler nearly shouted, sounding angry now. "When you first came here you were just another Reborn Etyangol and now..."

"DON’T YOU CALL MY MASTER THAT!" Vorondil screamed in fury, launching himself at the surprised elf. "YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT!"

"Whoa! Vorondil, stop that at once," Laurendil said as he deftly pulled the ellon off a very surprised Eärnur with a single hand, forcing the ellon back into his arms and pinning him to his chest. Vorondil struggled for another few seconds before collapsing into tears. Laurendil gave Finrod a helpless look but did not loosen his hold on the child.

Finrod ignored his thrall for a moment to make sure that Eärnur was unharmed. The Teler gave his friend a jaundiced look. "Even your thrall loves you."

"And is that a bad thing?" Finrod asked with some amusement.

"What’s happening, Findaráto?" Eärnur retorted, ignoring Finrod’s own question. "I... I was summoned before my lord and..." Now he turned white and would have collapsed himself if Finrod hadn’t caught him.

"Let’s go to my pavilion and we will talk," Finrod said quietly, giving the Teler a supporting hand. "Laurendil, bring our little warrior." Finrod’s tone was laced with ironic humor.

"Yes, aranya," Laurendil acknowledged with a chuckle then turned his attention to the still weeping Vorondil. "I’m going to release you, youngster, and you’re going to behave yourself or you will regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

Vorondil nodded meekly and Laurendil let him go. The four continued to the grove where the Maia guard gave Finrod a respectful salute. "If Lady Manwen approaches, Olóremmárië," Finrod said, "allow her entrance, otherwise, no one else."

"It will be as you say, Prince Findaráto," Olóremmárië said, her voice sounding like the wind in the trees on a warm summer’s day.

Finrod gave her an ironic look. "I suppose it would be too much to hope that you would be able to keep the Valar out as well?"

The Maia laughed gaily. "I will assume that was a jest, young prince, and not take offense."

Finrod sighed dramatically. "I was afraid that would be your answer." Olóremmárië laughed even louder as she stepped aside to allow them entrance into the grove.

Olórin was not there when they came into the pavilion, but several trays of food were and three of the elves fell upon them with alacrity. Vorondil was naturally subdued after his unexpected outburst but his appetite was by no means blunted. Eärnur, having eaten earlier, sipped on some tea, while Finrod and Laurendil refused to discuss anything more important than who would eat the last sticky bun. When they had had their fill and were settling back with their tea, Finrod gave Vorondil an appraising look.

"I may have to have Laurendil teach you the rudiments of fighting if you’re going to continue protecting my honor," Finrod finally said with a laugh when Vorondil turned several shades of red.

"D-does that mean I can have a sword?" Vorondil asked excitedly and the other three elves raised almost identical eyebrows at the eagerness they could hear in the ellon’s voice.

"Thralls don’t usually go armed, you know," Laurendil said gently, not wishing to deflate the child’s enthusiasm too harshly.

"B-but I won’t always be a thrall... will I?" The last was said with a note of uncertainty and Finrod hastened to reassure him.

"The terms of your servitude are quite explicit, Vorondil. Thirty years. After that, what you make of your life is up to you."

The younger ellon appeared to be mollified by his master’s words and Finrod turned his attention to Eärnur. "I am sorry to see you so upset, meldonya. I regret that you have suffered for the actions of others."

"I... I just want to understand," Eärnur said plaintively.

Finrod nodded. "I know and I will do my best to explain without breaking any confidences. This has been a long time coming, though. Lord Irmo has been very patient with all of you until now."

"B-but I’ve been learning Sindarin just as Lord Irmo wished. Why..."

"Eärnur," Finrod interrupted, "I think Lord Irmo has decided to impress upon all the elves in his service certain truths that many of them have tried to ignore up till now." He gave the Teler a sympathetic smile and a squeeze on the arm. "Was he very harsh with you?"

Eärnur shook his head. "No, but h-his words frightened me. I don’t know why, but they did."

"I’m sorry, child," Finrod said with a sigh. "I’m afraid that sometimes the innocent are tarred with the same brush as the guilty. This seems to be one of those times." He paused and gave his attention to Vorondil who was sitting listening to the conversation with unabashed interest.

"And now I have to come up with two suitable punishments for your actions, Vorondil," he said with some exasperation.

Vorondil choked on his tea. "T-two punishments, Master?"

Finrod nodded, looking somewhat grim now. "You did run away after all. Whatever the reason behind your actions, you did not have my permission to leave Lórien. And your unprovoked attack on Eärnur... I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you, child. You’re becoming more trouble than you’re worth."

Vorondil went quite pale at that and then he was on his knees before Finrod stammering an apology. "W-will it hurt much?" he whispered at the last, shaking like a leaf in an autumn wind at the thought of experiencing any kind of pain. He wondered briefly if a flogging was as bad as it sounded.

"Only if you think clothes folding a painful chore," Finrod said with a quirk of his lips.

"Huh?" Vorondil was unsure if he had heard correctly.

"Do get up off the ground, child," Finrod admonished him gently. "You’re getting your knees dirty. That’s better," he said when Vorondil complied, looking sheepish. "Since you’re so fond of Eärnur here, I think you will profit by spending some time with him." Both Eärnur and Vorondil looked bewildered at this; Laurendil merely snorted. Finrod ignored him. "So, for attacking Eärnur, you will spend the next month following him on his rounds and learning everything he has to teach you about being a proper apprentice. I think we can find a tabard for you somewhere, can we not, Eärnur?"

Eärnur raised an eyebrow at Finrod’s words but nodded nonetheless. Vorondil just sat there with his mouth hanging open in surprise. Laurendil gave him a knowing smirk and a wink.

"Good," Finrod continued. "And for running away, you get to fold his clothes for the next month as well."

For a long moment only silence reigned inside the pavilion as Vorondil attempted to understand what his master had just told him. Finally, he gave Finrod an uncertain smile. "D-does this mean I’ve been... promoted?"

Finrod gave the ellon a deep smile. "I told you I knew how to be ruthless, didn’t I?"

Laurendil burst out laughing.

****

Sometime later, Finrod was sitting with Melian in her grove telling her of the recent events. She said nothing as he spoke but smiled gently throughout. When he was finished with his narrative he paused and gave her a quizzical look.

"Was I wrong to do what I did?"

Melian shook her head. "Nay, Nephew. You were very right to confront my Lord Irmo and I am glad that poor child has someone like you as his defender."

Finrod snorted. "I don’t think either Lord Irmo or Lord Námo appreciated my efforts on Vorondil’s behalf that night."

"Are you so sure of that, my son?" came the amused voice of the Lord of Mandos.

Finrod looked up to see Námo striding towards them and stood to give him his obeisance. Námo waved him back to his seat.

"Not from where I was standing, my lord," Finrod said quietly, not quite meeting the Vala’s eyes.

Námo gave Finrod an appraising look and put a hand under the ellon’s chin, making him look up. "We were very proud of you the other night. It took you longer than we expected for you to see Vorondil’s plight, but when you did... I see why my Fallen Brother’s minions feared you."

Finrod shivered with something akin to delight at Námo’s words. Námo nodded. "As my brother said, you are very dangerous. You are also in a great deal of trouble."

Now Finrod shivered with something akin to fear, though his expression never changed. "So, what’s my punishment to be then, Master?"

Námo stared at the elf for a long moment, before smiling. "How would you like to be promoted?"

Melian burst out laughing.

****

Ampano Arano: The King’s Grove, literally, "the King’s wooden hall".

Olóremmárië: The name means "Dream-snarer" [contracted from Oloriremmárië: olos (olori- before a suffix) "dream" + remma "snare" with agental suffix -r + feminine ending -ië]; a reference to the Maia’s normal duties of warding the Path of Dreams and preventing evil from entering upon it.