It wasn't too difficult to find the former wizards as they, too, were sleeping it off in the woods. Olórin at the base of a large tree and Aiwendil snuggled within its branches. Calling to the maiar produced no results, besides grumbling grunts of displeasure before Fëanor kicked the sole of the booted feet of the prone form of Olórin in disgust, rousing him.

Blinking up in outrage, Olórin, bellowed, “Fëanáro Finwion! What is the meaning of this vile intrusion?”

“Oh do stop your grousing! We need to talk to you.” Fëanor said in exasperation, adding, “And your slumbering friend if he can be persuaded to join us.”

“We could always knock him out of the tree.” Lally suggested, and Fëanor grinned fiercely at her, while Finarfin was looking up thoughtfully, as if to gage how that might be accomplished. Finwë simply looked appalled at his children and wondered where he’d gone wrong.

“There now! No need for that. He becomes most disagreeable if you drop him on his head.” Olórin said, and produced a long staff from….somewhere, and proceeded to poke at his sleeping friend. Startling awake, Aiwendil rolled out of the tree’s embrace and would have had a nasty fall if the tree hadn’t caught him with its branches and gently lowered him to the ground.

“I say! What is all this about?” Aiwendil complained, and then seeing the newcomers, said, “Oh!.....Hello!” he said, blinking at them in surprise.

“Hello!” The three children of Finwë chimed back.

“Well?” Olórin quipped. And at the blank stares now being directed at him, snapped, “What do you want? You obviously had a reason to seek us out and bother us awake. So... out with it!”

“Oh! Something is wrong with Ñolo and we want you to help us fix him.” Finarfin said, and then looked at his brother who made a sound of annoyance and said, What? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Why beat around the bush.”

“I would have thought you’d have learned a bit more diplomacy whilst you were king.” Finwë said in disapproval.

“Oh, I learned all sorts of diplomacy, atar. A bunch of beating around the bush so you can dance around an issue in hopes you don’t offend someone’s sensibilities. It’s a bunch of rokkomuk and I’m not sorry to leave it behind.” Finarfin said disdainfully.

“Quite right! I approve, young ellon!” Aiwendil said, adding to Olórin, “You should have spent more time in King Thranduil’s court, brother. He barely tolerated court etiquette. You can see that clearly in his son, Prince Legolas.”

“Please! We are straying away from the topic at hand! Our brother is suffering and we need a way to fix him. And if there is no fixing him we need a way for him to be able to deal with it.” Fëanor said earnestly. Taking a breath he said, “Look, you gave him something last night that completely incapacitated him. I don’t want him like that all the time, but it did have the effect of detaching him from his emotions. Is there a way he can do that on his own?”

“I wouldn’t say it detached him….” Olórin began, but Aiwendil interrupted him.

“I would. That’s a perfect description. It doesn’t muffle, subdue or bury them. Smoking Southern Star detaches you from your emotions. Yes, it has a euphoric and tranquilizing aspect to it, but when it uncouples a person from their emotions it doesn’t mean the emotions are gone. It means the person is a disinterested bystander who can observe them without feeling the pain of them.”

“I don’t want him like that all the time. But is there a way to provide a smaller dose that gives him the same result?” Finarfin said.

“Yes! So he can analyze them dispassionately and find his own resolution to them.” Fëanor said with growing excitement and looking hopefully at Aiwendil for he seemed to be the go-to maia for this purpose.

“I see what you are saying and yes. I can distill the essence of the Cannabaceae plant and provide him with a tincture to take in his tea. I can even tweak it so it’s a slow release that will keep him in a similar but functional state for hours until his next tea time.” Aiwendil said, and then added, “I’ll get right on it.” and disappeared.

“Well it seems to me our presence wasn’t needed at all.” Finwë said almost accusingly.

“Atar, your son is in need. Surely you have some interest in seeing him well, don’t you?” Lalwen said in disapproval. As a mother this truly bothered her.

“She’s right atar. And I didn’t know that when I got you. I thought we’d need the familial bond to reach him. That’s why I insisted you come with us.” Fëanor said in exasperation.

“Oh don’t discount that, young ellon. It still might be necessary. And I happen to be the one to help you with that aspect. While my brother can provide Ñolofinwë with a temporary solution so he’s not overwhelmed by the intense emotions he’s not used to, I can teach you all to provide him comfort. So he knows he’s not alone while he comes to terms with them.”

“Shouldn’t his wife be here?” Finwë asked, feeling duly chastised by his children’s criticism.

“I’m sure that’s already what she does through their Bond. You are family but you can’t go where she already treads within his mind. What I’m going to teach you is to provide him comfort so he not only knows he isn’t alone, but you’ll be teaching him how to disengage from them because you will be giving him a passive distraction. This will train his mind in how not to dwell on them.”

“Ok, I’m game.” Lalwen said, and her male kin eagerly agreed.

“Very well. Share we find a comfortable place to begin?” he smiled. 

~0~

Feeling the matter of Fingolfin had been, if not dealt with, at least with a workable solution, Fëanor concentrated on his sons’ wedding. Having attended a family meeting with the Elvenking, who was becoming resigned to the fact he was still the Elvenking - it was either that or flat out call him Governor - that it was determined the Faire Grounds was the only appropriate place to have the ceremony since there was no way they could accommodate so many guests.

The wedding would take place in under two days time and Fëanor fretted there wouldn’t be enough time to get everything in order. But the king waved that aside, “No need to trouble yourself. My people are quite used to moving entire villages on a whim and have done so leaving nary a trace. They’ll be able to build the venue while herding your kin without them even realizing they’re being herded.”

Just then a tall ellon with russet hair appeared almost out of thin air and bowed to the king. The king crooked a finger and the ellon leaned in as the king whispered his instructions. He then straightened and bowing once more disappeared as silently as he’d appeared.

The king then smiled and said, “There now. Tis as good as done.”

“Thank you, ada. I knew you could come up with a solution.” Belegon beamed.

“That is the brilliance of our good Galion. If we didn’t have him things would go quite ill for us, I’m sure.” the king grinned.

“We always assumed it was your association with the maia that smoothed things out for you.” Fëanor said.

“Oh he was quite valuable when the dark lord was in the southern part of my forest. Nasty creature used my adar’s palace as his fortress. It moved us north and Aiwendil, who was Radagast back then, enchanted my river to keep our southern flank safe.”

“It was a barrier?” Fëanor asked.

Smiling, Thranduil said, “Of a sort. He enchanted it to cause sleep to those who touched it. If orcs tried to cross it they became incapacitated and drowned. He had to warn the wildlife, of course, and we knew better than to go near it. But it proved a very effective deterrent.”

Grimacing, Belegon said, “I wasn’t there at the time, but I was surprised to see the family when I got out of the Halls. And finding out that the spawn of Ungoliant were in the forest was unsettling.”

“Yes, your brother being poisoned by those vermin convinced your naneth that they’d all be better off here than in Ennorath. And I don’t know how Aiwendil managed it, but he was able to tell Legolas and I that Reuel had been healed of his injury. After we found a way to combat the venom, they were more of a nuisance than anything else.” Thranduil assured.

“You had the spawn of Ungoliant in your forest?” Fëanor asked, horror on his face.

“Oh, they weren’t anywhere near as deadly as their dame. But they were still very large, they were sentient and could speak and their webs killed the trees. But during the Battle Under the Trees, the orcs set fire to the forest to burn us out and it actually ended the spiders. It also had the added benefit of clearing out the diseased trees. Those that could never be saved from the evil that had corrupted them.”

“I had always assumed that the malice of the dark maia was less than his master. But from those I’ve spoken to it seems his poison stretched far deeper.”

“I was alive during the First Age and while Morgoth ultimately caused the destruction of Beleriand, I believe his acolyte merely built upon what the dark vala put into play. And at the very least, he caused the destruction of the land of Númenor.” Thranduil said, but then smiled and said, “But that is all in the past now. Now we are here and have a wedding to arrange. Aiwendil has assured me that he’ll be able to coax the flowers to be in bloom one last time before they begin their Iavas sleep and our kitchens are busily preparing for the feast that will follow the nuptials.”

“Yes and the Ambarussa were very diligent in building their marital homes and we’ve made sure they are completely stocked and have been busy moving all the girls' things there so they’ll be able to start right off in their new home.” Belegon said.

“So, it sounds as though it’s all arranged and we’ll just have to show up?” Fëanor asked.

“It seems so. I know Galion will be able to handle the rest, so we’ll just announce the precise time and then present ourselves for the ceremony.” the king smiled.

And with that they all left to enjoy themselves until the appointed time.

~The Wedding~

When Fëanor arrived at the venue with his family at sundown, he was astounded by what he saw. He didn’t know how they’d managed it, but all the Pavilions had been rearranged into neat rows around the perimeter of the vast field and the cooking stations with the sturdy pergolas all placed in an organized row off to the side. 

Up the center was a gold and silver-white pathway that was made up of tiny elanor and niphredil with dozens of floral arches of lilies, iris, eglantine, roses and the golden bells of mallos that framed the pathway so the brides would feel as though they were walking through a floral tunnel. And Fëanor didn’t know how they did it but the whole of the arches were lit with tiny twinkling lights, as were the surrounding trees and giant arch they’d decorated with long flowing swaths of silk that seemed to reflect the stars above. He would later learn that Aiwendil had coaxed the lightening bugs to put on a show for them.

On both sides of the pathway were rows upon rows of seating where family, friends and guests were seated while Celalpheth and Nerdanel were standing besides Fëanor and the Ambarussa on a raised dais. The twins looked pensive, but otherwise calm. Fëanor was sure they were talking to one another and trying to keep each other calm and he proudly noted how resplendent they looked in their crimson and gold, with the eight pointed star worn boldly on their chests. 

Maglor, Daeron, Ivárë and Timpinen were playing a pleasant background tune that would only change when the brides were ready to walk down the aisle and the tune would be one the couples had pre-chosen for just this purpose.

And just when the tension of the twins reached its zenith, the song changed and they could see their beloveds at the end of the aisle on each side of Belegon as he began to escort them down the floral path. Amrod and Amras both gasped at the vision of loveliness their ladies presented - a sentiment echoed by all those present when they beheld the brides on the arms of their very proud adar. 

Both were wearing golden silk gowns trimmed with deep emerald embroidery of delicate leafy vines with tiny yellow flowers. And their glorious locks were swept up from their faces and pulled back into a knot at the back of their heads with the long tresses falling into a curling fountain cascading down their backs. They were wearing fine golden mesh veils, dotted with tiny emeralds and secured by the circlets crafted by their betrotheds.

As they walked up the steps of the raised dais, Belegon then placed the hands of Eliadmë into the hands of Amrod and then the hands of Eiliana into the hands of Amras and then nodding his head to Fëanor, he then took his place beside Celalpheth and Nerdanel to bear witness to the ceremony.

Fëanor smiled gently, took a breath and then began the Binding Ceremony that had both Sindarin and Noldorin elements and he especially liked the part of the eternal unbroken circle of the ribbons that were burned showing the ties could never be unbound, for it gave him a chance to show off his fire-magery, much to the amusement of those there witnessing the ceremony. Nerdanel rolled her eyes for she knew he just couldn't help himself - he was what he was.

And when he pronounced them husbands and wives, he then bestowed his own blessings upon them before turning them to present them to the gathering as wedded couples to all those present. Then as those present stood to clap and cheer on the newlyweds, the Silvans pounced and began moving chairs around to place at tables that magically appeared while leaving a circular space in the center for those who wished to stand, mingle or dance.

Fëanor, who was watching as the whole transpired right before his eyes, still couldn’t believe his eyes and was most impressed with these elves and their organizational skills. Things Fëanor valued very much. And then it was party time! Food and drink began to appear. Speeches of good wishes made by the many, many brothers of both brides and grooms. More speeches by the parents of both couples and even the Elvenking gave his blessing for their infinite happiness, his lovely wife on his arm and his wine goblet raised.

It was when the King was giving his speech that Fëanor noticed his grandson, Elladan sitting at the king’s table with a breathtakingly lovely ellith who bore a striking resemblance to Queen Mirilla on his arm. And when he found Elrond, that ellon caught his eye and winked and Fëanor grinned in return, for it looked as though another wedding might be taking place soon!

And then, accompanied by their fellow minstrels, Daeron and Maglor began a special song of such beauty, it wove around about, threading its way through every leaf and blade of grass and into the very bones of those gathered.

Fëanor didn’t know what possessed him, but he went to find his brother, Fingolfin and whispered in his ear, “Join them! Add your voice to theirs!”

“I...I can’t sing! You know that!”

“Dammit Ñolo! Think! You have access to the Song! The Song! Use it! Use it to give their song form and substance! Please try.” Fëanor beseeched.

And closing his eyes, Fingolfin began lowly, more a melody than a song. A song without words that wove around that which the Bards sang and surprising himself with the richness, he gained confidence and gave it the Song Of Power that brought forth all the visions the Bards sang of. There was a gasp of wonder from all those present and the entire gathering fell silent to bear witness to this miracle playing out before their eyes and seeping into all of their senses.

When it was done there was utter silence and then a thundering applause and Fëanor hugged his brother and thanked him for the wonderful gift. And Fingolfin smiled in relief for no one knew it had been his voice that had given it form, thinking rather that it had been the bards themselves who had done so, for both were known to possess this gift.

~0~

The feast went on for the next week straight, never pausing and the Woodelves were rather impressed that these city-folk Noldo could keep up with the non-stop partying - something they were rather famous for back in Ennorath!

The couples had escaped fairly early and seamlessly unnoted, to the homes they would spend their first and forever nights in. Those feasting never missed them and only returned to their beds for a few hours respite before they arose and rejoined the festivities.

Fëanor and Nerdanel spent a pleasant first evening in the company of their in-laws, both couples pleasantly imagining the many grandchildren they all hoped for, before they too, retired with the sun-rise the next morning. After a few hours' sleep, Fëanor found his son, Celegorm and told him to let him know when he’d be leaving, for they planned to accompany him home so they could be there for the arrival of their twins. Celegorm informed his father he planned to leave the next morning as it would give him a chance to visit with his brothers and their families.

Fëanor informed his wife through their Bond and went in search of his siblings and father so he could make his own farewells to them. He’d been overjoyed to find Fingolfin delightfully present at his sons’ wedding and knew Aiwendil had come through with his tincture, if Ñolo’s dilated eyes had been any indication. But it was more his easy manner that told Fëanor the maia had come through. That and Anairë’s look of gratitude.

Fëanor found his atar once again deep within the game of chance with his fellows as well as being deep in his cups. He gave his father a quick bow and bid him farewell, while his father waved him off with a, “Yes, yes! Carry on, son.” and Fëanor decided to hold him to that should his hasty departure ever come up again.

He then found his siblings sitting together and enjoying the tomfoolery of those still celebrating and Fëanor settled himself in the seat Finarfin pulled over for him to join them. Sitting with a smile, he found he was enjoying their company and their sibling camaraderie and he was again glad to see that Fingolfin was there with them and seemed to be his old self and enjoying himself. This would also explain why Finarfin and Lally were also so relaxed and poking fun at those around them. They really were terrible! How had he never noticed that about them before?!!

“So it looks like our great grandson might be having his own binding ceremony soon.” he smiled.

“Indeed, I saw that. Apparently their attachment dates back ages. It will be good to see him settled.” Fingolfin agreed.

“So what are your plans now, brother?” Finarfin asked.

“Nerdanel and I will be traveling with Celegorm to be there when Ealanna delivers their twins.”

“I wish you joy, brother.” Lally smiled, “I wish Glorfindel would settle himself.”

“He hasn’t been home all that long, sister.” Fëanor frowned, recalling he’d come with Elrond's sons and Galadriel’s husband.

“Yes, I know. But I can still wish.” she smiled.

“I wouldn’t worry. Things seem to be settling themselves, of late. We just need to have patience.” Fingolfin said with a faraway look in his eyes. And then he refocused and said, "I want to thank all of you for your help. I know I've been a little distant lately and I appreciate your intervention." and looking at Fëanor, added, "Especially you, brother."

"You're welcome, brother. You've done so much for all of us, it would be callus not to come your aid when you needed it." Fëanor said, adding, "Though it was Ara's idea to find the maiar."

"Yes, but you're the one who got us all together. But yes, your maiar friends really came through for us when we asked them."

"Yes, they did." Lally sighed, "It kinda makes me feel bad for wanting to knock the one out of the tree."

"Well, I kicked the other one....so there's that." Fëanor grinned.

Fingolfin stared at his siblings and then burst into merry laughter, saying, "You all make it sound like I'm the one who's dangerous and crazy - and you're all the same as me. I never want to hear another word about my methods - ever again!" and the four all stacked their hands, exclaiming, "Deal!"