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Elf, Interrupted: Book One: Glorfindel Redux  by Fiondil

104: Camping Out

Alassiel woke on the morning two days after her breakdown to see Finrod standing over her with a smile on his face, dressed in his hauberk. Melian was standing behind him.

"Rise and shine, Cousin," he said, deftly pulling the covers off her. She shrieked in dismay, trying to grab the blankets, but Finrod merely laughed and danced out of her reach. "You have five minutes to dress. Melian will help you."

"Five minutes!" she yelled as he left the pavilion. "You’ll be lucky if it isn’t five hours!" She heard Finrod laugh as she sat there glowering at Melian, who merely smiled and held out Alassiel’s dressing gown.

As it was, it was nearly half an hour before Alassiel emerged from the pavilion fully dressed in her own hauberk. She was still grumbling, but stopped when she saw that Finrod was not alone. Standing with him were Laurendil, also in battle dress, and Vorondil, who was wearing an old tunic and carrying a small hunting bow. Laurendil, she noticed, carried not a sword, but one of the great War Bows, which surprised her. Finrod nodded at her approvingly and Laurendil gave her a nod and a smile. Vorondil’s eyes were glowing with excitement and he was practically bouncing with impatience.

"What’s all this about, Cousin?" she asked Finrod.

"I’ve been promising Vorondil a camping trip," Finrod replied with a sly grin. "We need someone to do the cooking."

"What?" she yelled in disbelief, beginning to feel outraged. "I’m doing the cooking?"

Finrod turned to Laurendil with a sly grin. "You see how eagerly she volunteers?"

Laurendil laughed and Vorondil snickered. Alassiel frowned. "If you think I’m going camping alone with you ellyn..."

Finrod raised his hand. "Peace, Alassiel. Manwen will be joining us and Melian has agreed to meet us at our destination. As for the cooking, we’ll take turns. I’m probably a better cook than you are anyway."

"Oh?" she said with a raised eyebrow. "We’ll see about that, my lord." She stalked away, muttering imprecations under her breath, so she did not see Finrod wink at Laurendil. They made their way to the stables where they found Manwen with the horses, including a packhorse that was carrying all their equipment. As they were mounting, Alassiel put aside her anger long enough to ask Finrod a question. "Why are we dressed in armor?"

"Practice," Finrod said as he led them out of Lórien. They headed south across open fields. Vorondil rode beside him, eagerly asking questions to which Finrod patiently provided answers. Alassiel found herself riding between Laurendil and Manwen, and she had the feeling that they had put her between them on purpose.

"So, how is your training as Findaráto’s squire coming along?" Manwen asked politely.

"It isn’t," Alassiel said with a scowl, remembering her tantrum of two days earlier.

Manwen raised an eyebrow and gave her husband a knowing look, which he returned with a shrug. "I see," the elleth said. "That isn’t what..."

"He said he’ll kill me," Alassiel interrupted, her voice bleak. "He hates me and wants to see me dead."

If Finrod heard he gave no sign. He and Vorondil were far enough ahead that the other three could hold a conversation in private. The two healers gave Alassiel considering looks. Laurendil leaned over and placed a hand on Alassiel’s arm.

"Findaráto does not hate you, child," he said, "nor does he want to see you dead. What he hates is what he fears you have become due to your grandparents’ influence. He does not want you to end up as they."

They continued riding in silence for a time while Alassiel thought on Laurendil’s words. Ahead she saw Finrod say something to Vorondil that caused the ellon to laugh and then they were both racing their horses across the field. "He treats his thrall as if he were a younger brother," she finally said, almost disapprovingly.

Manwen gave her a shrewd look. "And that disturbs you," she said.

Alassiel shrugged uneasily, wondering if she were going to be chastised for her remarks. "He’s a thrall..."

"Technically, yes," Laurendil said, "but he’s a child, Alassiel, a child who made a grave mistake. The Valar making him Finrod’s thrall was just a fiction to give them an excuse not to punish him as he should be were he of age. As it is, he will not be able to leave Lórien for the next thirty years without Finrod’s permission."

Manwen spoke then. "Even Lord Irmo recognizes Finrod’s authority over Vorondil and asked his permission to allow the ellon to accompany me to Lady Nienna’s."

Alassiel gave her a surprised look which Manwen returned with a nod of confirmation.

"Finrod treats Vorondil like a younger brother because that’s how he wants to treat him," Laurendil said then. "Perhaps if you spent less time putting others into categories and simply accepted them for themselves, you would be able to treat them more compassionately."

It was the closest thing to a reprimand the Lóriennildo had ever given her and she blushed somewhat at it but did not try to defend herself to him. Manwen and Laurendil exchanged glances over Alassiel’s bowed head and nodded to one another.

****

They did not go far. About three leagues to the south of Lórien was a stretch of woods consisting of old oaks for the most part. In the depths of winter they still retained their leaves, creating a golden canopy against the browns of the land around them, for little snow fell in this region of Valinor. It was probably not the best time of year in which to go camping, but it was not unheard of. They made their way towards a clearing where a small stream ran through the woods, reaching it around noon.

"I had Mithlas check this place out earlier," Finrod told them as they brought their horses to a halt and began setting up their camp. "This was the best place for a camp according to him."

"I’m going to miss him," Laurendil said as he helped Manwen down from her horse. "He and I had many shared memories."

"Well, there’s no reason we cannot visit him on Tol Eressëa," Manwen said. "We’re not prisoners, you know, dear." She gave her husband a long-suffering look. Laurendil smiled and gave her a light kiss.

"I know," he said, then turned and began helping Vorondil remove their equipment from the packhorse and get the tents set up. There were two tents and it was decided that the three ellyn would share the larger tent and the two ellith would share the smaller one. A small campfire was started and water collected. Alassiel felt somewhat out of place. She had never gone camping and was not used to "roughing" it. Laurendil and Manwen seemed quite at home in the woods and were competently going about the business of setting up the camp with little fuss or conversation. It was obvious that they both had done such things before. Vorondil was happily following Finrod’s directions in placing tent pegs in the ground or fetching water, so his inexperience at camping wasn’t as obvious. Finrod noticed Alassiel’s unease and indecision as to what she should do and motioned to her practice sword.

"Why don’t you go through the drills I’ve shown you so far, Cousin, while we finish up here? As soon as I’ve seen to Vorondil I will join you. I think over there where it’s more open will be a good place for sword-practice." He pointed to an area of the clearing that was further south from their camp. Alassiel nodded and made her way to where Finrod had indicated, glad to have something to do besides standing around looking useless and foolish.

She was in the middle of her workout when Finrod joined her, along with Laurendil. Looking back at the camp she could see Vorondil staring wistfully after them until Manwen nudged him, apparently reminding him of his duties, for the ellon reluctantly nodded and began helping her with food preparation. Alassiel smiled at Finrod. "I think there’s an elfling who wants to play."

Finrod snorted good-naturedly. "Ingwë was wise to decree that no one under seventy-five be allowed to handle a sword. Vorondil will just have to wait a while."

"By the time his indenture is over, then, he’ll be old enough to be your squire," Alassiel said. "That should be something for him to look forward to."

Finrod gave her an appraising look and nodded, smiling. "So I’ve told him, but you would think he has to wait three ages instead of thirty years the way he carries on."

Alassiel shrugged. "Elflings," she said drolly. "What’s a parent to do?"

At that, both Finrod and Laurendil laughed and Alassiel was surprised when her cousin took her into his embrace and kissed her on her brow. "Indeed," he said as he released her. "Shall we spar?"

They sparred for about an hour until Manwen called them to come eat. It took them only a few minutes to doff their armor and join Manwen and Vorondil around the campfire to enjoy the vegetable stew that had been put together. "Although Vorondil did most of the work," Manwen said as she helped the ellon ladle the stew. "He’s really quite good with herbs. I would never have thought of using mint."

Vorondil beamed with pleasure at Manwen’s praise and when Finrod gave the ellon a fond smile, the ellon practically glowed under his master’s approval. Alassiel began to see what the others saw in him. Here was an ellon, an elfling, who only wanted to be accepted by the adults around him, as any elfling would. Whatever his sins, he deserved a second chance. Her own attitude towards him had been mean-spirited and petty, seeing him only as a thrall, as nothing. She felt herself grow hot with shame and stood up to leave on the pretense that she needed to relieve herself.

Finrod found her several minutes later sitting on a rock near the stream staring at nothing in particular. He was holding a bowl of stew and a spoon. "You didn’t finish your lunch, Cousin," he said as he offered her the bowl. She took it with her thanks but did not immediately start eating. Finrod sat on another rock next to her, giving her a penetrating look.

"What ails you, Cousin?" he asked solicitously. "What has you troubled in mind and fëa?"

She did not answer immediately, gazing at the stream passing by. "I’ve been... arrogant," she finally said, speaking barely above a whisper.

"Yes you have," Finrod said calmly. She gave him a sharp look then and he smiled. "What! Did you expect me to disagree with you?"

She blushed and looked away, shaking her head.

"When we first reached the shores of Endórë and met our sundered kin," Finrod said softly, "we looked upon the Sindar and called them Moriquendi, which they resented."

"But they are!" Alassiel exclaimed in surprise.

"As we saw them," Finrod nodded in agreement, "but they looked upon the word as an insult, for they equated Moriquendi not with the meaning of ‘those elves who never came to Valinor and lived in the Light of the Two Trees’ but rather ‘those elves who sided with Melkor’. We ignored the fact that they had been fighting against Melkor and his minions long before we arrived and us calling them by that name infuriated them. They were right and we were wrong."

Alassiel’s eyes widened at that and Finrod continued. "We despised them for many reasons, though we treated with them, for they knew the land and we did not. We looked down upon them for their uncouth rustic ways, for the corruption, as we saw it, of the Eldarin language, for the wearing of front braids and even for the lack of color in their clothing." He smiled at that, shaking his head and giving Alassiel a wry look. "We were very arrogant."

"Even you?" Alassiel asked, disbelievingly.

"Oh yes," Finrod admitted ruefully. "Though in my defense I plead ignorance and the folly of youth, but I learned very quickly that the Sindar were anything but uncouth or rustic and their language was beautiful and full of subtleties of meaning. Their clothing was richly textured and the colors, though muted, were there for any to see. As for the wearing of front braids...." he shrugged and lifted one of his own with an apologetic smile.

For a long moment neither spoke, Finrod allowing Alassiel time to digest his words. Finally she nodded. "Thank you," she said simply. Finrod smiled and put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

"Finish your lunch, Cousin," was all he said as he stood up and walked away, leaving Alassiel alone again with her thoughts.

****

She returned to the camp some time later to find that someone had caught some fish for dinner. Vorondil was attempting to clean the fish but making something of a mess of it. Finrod, Laurendil and Manwen sat together near the fire talking, watching him and ignoring his half-muttered imprecations. Alassiel wasn’t sure what was going on or why no one was helping the elfling with the fish but she could see tears of frustration beginning to fall from his eyes and suddenly felt sorry for him. She walked over to where Vorondil was kneeling and joined him. He looked up in surprise, his expression turning wary. Alassiel did not notice that the conversation by the fire had stopped. She gave the ellon a brief smile.

"My atto showed me a secret about cleaning fish," she said quietly. "Would you like me to show you?"

For a moment Vorondil just looked at her and then blushing somewhat, nodded. Alassiel took out her own knife from its scabbard and grabbed one of the other fish lying near by. "Hold the fish by its head with your two middle fingers inside the mouth and make a cut like this...." She continued showing him what to do and he followed her as faithfully as possible. In minutes, they both had successfully cleaned their fish.

"Good, good," Alassiel said. "You are a very fast learner, Vorondil. I think it took me two or three tries before I was able to get it right."

"That’s because you’re an elleth," he responded somewhat haughtily, though she noticed a glint of mischief in his eyes that belied his tone.

"Vorondil!" Finrod admonished the elfling but Alassiel threw back her head and started laughing.

"That’s what my atto said," she exclaimed and soon they were all laughing.

Later she learned that Vorondil was being punished for disobeying Finrod when he refused to stay at the camp with Manwen while he and Laurendil went fishing. His punishment was to clean the fish by himself even though he did not know how. Later, Finrod confessed privately to Alassiel that he was about to relent and give the ellon a hand himself when she appeared.

"That was very kind of you to show him how to clean the fish properly," he added, "and more effective than any words of apology that you could have uttered. There’s hope for you yet, Cousin."

Alassiel was surprised to realize that she did not resent Finrod’s words, but actually welcomed them, as if he’d praised her. It made her feel good and she smiled her thanks.

****

They remained in the camp for several days, spending the mornings wandering through the woods. Laurendil and Finrod showed Vorondil how to track and move silently through the underbrush. The ellon wasn’t very good at it but they gave him credit for trying and he was obviously enjoying himself. In the afternoons when it was warmer, Alassiel, Finrod and Laurendil would spar while Manwen taught Vorondil herbology and other aspects of the healing arts.

Alassiel proved to be a rather fair cook, though Finrod surprised her with his own culinary skills. "When you’ve spent as much time in the field as I did, Cousin," he told her with a laugh, "you learn how to cook or starve."

After three days, the ellith decided they were in dire need of a bath, so after the noon meal they gathered their things, leaving the ellyn behind to their own devices. Vorondil looked disgustedly at the retreating figures making their way towards a pool further up the stream. Finrod and Laurendil smiled at one another and in minutes they were dragging a protesting Vorondil towards another part of the stream, forcing him to strip and pushing him in. Soon, all three ellyn were bathing.

Clouds had been gathering all morning, looking threatening, so none of them lingered over their baths but quickly dried off and dressed. Both groups entered the camp at about the same time just as the skies suddenly burst open and it began to pour.

"But I just finished taking a bath!" Vorondil nearly screamed as he raced towards the tents. The ellith also ran towards the tents trying to avoid getting wet. Finrod merely shrugged and continued walking serenely into the camp. Laurendil stopped, threw back his head and laughed. Then he did an impromptu dance, all the while chanting, "What’s a camping trip without rain? What’s a camping trip without rain?"

Finrod laughed as Laurendil grabbed him by the hand and the two ellyn began dancing, Finrod joining Laurendil in his chant. The other three elves just stared at them in bemusement. Then Manwen shrugged, threw down her bathing gear and ran to join her husband and Finrod. Alassiel and Vorondil stared at each other for a moment.

"My master told me Laurendil loves to go camping in the rain," Vorondil finally said with a laugh and then she found herself laughing along with him. The two of them ran after the others dancing around the firepit and joined them.

The unclad Maiar who, unbeknown to the elves, had been sent by Lord Irmo to guard the woods where they were camping, watched the Children dancing in the rain and laughed at their antics.





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