Beautiful Amarië walked listlessly by the shore of the stream, not far from the path to Taniquetil. Her feet were bare and sank gratefully into the soft grass. It was a hard trek by foot to the bottom of the mountain even for a Vanya. Her long hair flowed down her back to her waist, its silken tendrils catching the sunlight like glints of gold. Her eyes on a first glance were gray, but if one took time to observe, glimmers of blue seemed to wink mischievously. It was her only claim of kinship to the line of Ingwë, distant at best. She was beloved by the family, her dearest friend the only daughter of the King.
It was this one day of the year that Amarië wished her friend had not abandoned her for adventure. She wondered what the vivacious Princess was doing at this very moment. Probably causing trouble. A slight smile ghosted her features. Several birds trilled in the trees above her and Amarië decided to sit for a brief time. Resting her feet in the cool water, she tried not to think of the coming evening.
A breeze ruffled her hair and Amarië brushed at the stray strands invading her eyes. It seemed a mockery to have such a beautiful day. The heavens should be weeping-Amarië quickly changed the course of her thoughts. Perhaps she would make a trip to the sea. It had been a very long time since she had visited the home of Olwë and she knew Eärwen would be lonely. The daughter of the Teleri could, however, find her comfort in Finarfin Amarië conceded and dismissed Alqualondë. She had not set foot in Tirion since that fateful night and she would not be breaking that promise anytime soon. With a weary sigh, Amarië looked up to mountain peaks where her beautiful city was perched. Many comforts could be found amongst her kin, except for this one. They had told her not to dally with a Noldor. They had warned nothing but trouble would come of it. Look at Indis, they would say, and the mistakes she made.
But Amarië knew, with every bone in her body, that Indis never regretted her decision to marry Finwë. She knew also that to blame her kin for their prejudices would be unfair. The Noldor had caused the Vanyar much in the way of heartache. As the first of the kindred, the Vanyar felt responsible for their younger counterparts. Amarië knew that the prejudices stemmed from their own sources of guilt. Was that why she had loved him?
Finrod, son of Finarfin and Eärwen, betrayer of the Valar and one time lover of Amarië of the Vanyar. Once, she thought bitterly, she had been promised marriage. Once, she had entertained the peace and joy of life together filled with children and love. In one night it had been torn apart. Years of courtship had been destroyed by one Elda's Oath.
It had taken many years before Amarië could think of Fëanor without a deep anger burning in her heart. She blamed his temper and his xenophobic prejudices for the outcomes that had destroyed so much: innocence, lives, and faith.
In the years that followed, Amarië had contemplated long and hard the choices that had led her to Finrod. It had been by chance they had met at the wedding feast for Ingwë's son. It was her first time at such a large gathering and the hordes of Eldalië had been overwhelming for the shy and quiet Vanya. She had escaped to the gardens for peace and had stumbled upon a boy not much older then her skipping rocks in the pond. He had heard her approach and smiled. It had been a roguish grin that sapped the breath from her body and she remembered squeaking her name when asked. He had only smiled wider and Amarië had fled, deeply embarrassed. Her mortification grew when she learned later that week he was the grandson of Indis and would be spending several months with her at Taniquetil. Amarië had always looked forward to visits with Indis who appreciated Amarië's quiet nature. Finrod had only just reached his majority and when he looked at Amarië there was a knowing look that she could not quite understand. It infuriated her and she made a point of avoiding him altogether. She had not yet reached her majority and she knew her own mother breathed a sigh of relief when her daughter spurned the attentions of the half-Noldo.
It was not until Amarië had reached her majority that she encountered the Noldor Prince again. Indis had brought her entire family to the celebration much to Amarië's chagrin. She had always been painfully shy and would have preferred a quieter affair. She was an only child, though, and her mother had refused to hear of it. So, it was with great relief that Amarië slipped away from the proceedings to catch her breath.
Looking back, Amarië wondered if the Valar had a hand in that night, for as she walked the well known paths, the Vanya found herself before a very familiar pool where a tall and handsome Noldo was skipping rocks. He had turned at her approach, but this time he did not smile. They had watched each other warily for several minutes before he blurted, "Why do you not like me?"
Amarië remembered staring at him in some state of disbelief. "I n-never said that."
He snorted and flicked a lock of hair out of his face. "You did not have to, my lady, it was written in your stance and face."
Studying his youthful face and soft eyes, Amarië realized there were probably few, if any Elda, who actively disliked this ellon. She decided it had more to do with his open nature then position in society. Her own friends talked often of the Noldor Princes and how much they adored Finrod. Amarië had always viewed their silly talk with the grace born of those who care little for such frivolities. It was amusing that she was then in this predicament.
"You intimidate me, Prince," Amarië finally said. She could not help the tendril of pleasure she received from his shocked face. Blunt honesty was both the blessing and curse of her life.
Finrod blinked for a moment then said, "I find it hard to believe anything would intimidate you. I have heard, from reliable sources, you are very much the Ice Princess."
"No Princess am I," she said loftily and Finrod had laughed. Amarië had felt herself smile. She liked his laugh. It was full and hearty. They spent the greater part of the evening by the pond and Amarië found herself talking more in those few hours then she had in days. There was something about Finrod that eased her soul, though he still had that knowing look in his eyes that she could never quite figure out.
Their courtship was slow. He lived in Alqualondë and her in Taniquetil. They each had responsibilities that kept them there but for festivals and brief visits. Her parents disapproved for they feared he was dallying with her. They warned her not to trifle with a Prince. It was unlikely he would choose a Vanya to wed for his grandfather was pressing for a Telerin wife. Amarië had pretended not to care, but she spent many sleepless nights wondering if it were true.
"Why do you not trust my love for you?" Finrod asked her one day, picking at the fruit on his plate. They were relaxing by the shore on her last day in Alqualondë. Amarië remembered raising an eyebrow in question.
"I do not understand what you are asking," she said, though she did. She wanted him to admit it. She would not pressure him.
He scowled and threw the piece of fruit at hovering gulls. "When we are together, I feel as though you yet hide some part from me. I feel as though you hold all of my heart but I have barely brushed yours."
Amarië shook her head. "You say this, but I wonder if you mean it."
Finrod's face flushed. "I would not lie. Do you believe so little of me?"
Slowly, the Vanya shook her head again. "I believe that you think you believe it, Finrod, but how can I trust you will not someday bend under familial pressure? I could not bear it."
The Prince looked confused. "What are you speaking of, Amarië? What familial pressure?"
"You cannot sit here and tell me that your Grandfather has not been pressuring you to marry a Teleri."
Finrod stared at her in silence for a moment and then his face creased into a smile. "Amarië, you silly little fool, have you no understanding of your worth? I loved you from the moment I first saw you, a gangly youth seeking solitude in the gardens. I knew the minute our eyes met I would make you mine. I wish to marry only one elleth and she is already beside me."
He had sealed his promise with a kiss and Amarië had foolishly believed her happily ever after was just around the corner. They had nearly been a year into their engagement when he abandoned her for the Hither Lands. She had never fully healed.
The sun was beginning its descent when Amarië returned from her memories. The pain had dulled over the years, but this day always seemed to bring it so freshly alive. It was the day her life ended. An anniversary of sorts, she decided with bitterness. Rising to her feet, Amarië glanced in the direction of Tirion and saw the shadowy form of a rider. His gait was oddly familiar and as he drew closer, recognition dawned.
She met him at the bridge and he dismounted. His horse ambled into the fields to graze, but he had eyes only for her. He stopped several feet from her, unsure of his reception. For her part, Amarië studied him as an artist would his subject, imprinting details into the mind.
He seemed taller and broader in the shoulder with muscles that were surely not there last they met. They rippled under his simple clothing and masked a hidden strength. He carried himself as a king would and Amarië wondered if he had taken up that mantle in the land beyond. Although his face was smooth, there was a hint of hardness not present before. It was his eyes, still the same stormy grey that revealed his metamorphosis. Where once only joy had dwelt there was now a deep and cutting sorrow. Pain battled with pleasure as memories both dark and light rampaged through his consciousness. Wisdom that had been bought with trials of flame and war shimmered beneath the surface and Amarië wondered what had brought about his death.
For his part, Finrod studied the elleth before him and Amarië knew what he saw. Though her appearance had changed but little in the passing years, her eyes also spoke the volumes of her life. She too battled with grief and all happiness was dimmed by it. Her own pain could not wholly be masked and, though a single flicker in her grey-blue depths, it was plain to see. Her wisdom had been bought with hard learned truths and broken dreams swept under the rugs.
He hated himself for the change he had wrought.
She hated herself for being weak of heart.
Her heart still beat with love for him. It was only the years of suffering that pinned her feet to the ground. He was hesitant and unsure. It was a new expression for him. Finrod had been everything that was confident, always so sure of his place in the world. Amarië did not like to see it and she tilted her head slightly. Finrod took that as a sign and stepped closer.
"Beautiful Amarië," he whispered, his voice was rich and full, words carefully spoken. He had always been careful with words, knowing how dangerous they could be.
"Finrod of Alqualondë," Amarië murmured. "It is almost fitting you return to me this day."
He tilted his head now, as if trying to conjure the meaning of her words. It soon dawned and his eyes saddened even more. "Yes, I suppose I always liked neat little circles. Though, perhaps it would have been more fitting to meet you by that fateful pond."
Amarië conceded his point with a nod and stood before him in awkward silence. She did not know what to do or what to say. What words did she have for this living ghost? He was a stranger to her now. He had lived a life far from hers, had trod a different path.
Finrod knew and gently took her hand. She felt those familiar tingles he had always seemed to create whenever they touched. "Dearest Amarië do not turn your heart from mine. I have no right to ask this, I know, but I must. Do I still have your heart? Have you given it to another?"
She stared at him, unsure of her answer. There was vulnerability in his eyes that she had never seen before. It made him seem so…normal. In her youthful fancy he had been godlike, but now Amarië saw him for what he was. An ellon with the same hopes and dreams that she held. He had merely taken a different route. It had not been a wise one, but it had been his choice.
"You know very well that my heart has only ever belonged to a mighty Prince of the Noldor."
He grimaced. "No Prince am I."
Amarië smiled then and took his other hand. "Come, sit with me Noldo."
They sat before the stream and sank into a comfortable silence. Amarië knew that in several hours she would erupt with the excitement of it all. For now the disbelief and surprise at seeing her dreams come to reality were still too surreal. Shortly, Finrod turned and ran a gentle hand down her face and Amarië leaned into the warm touch. She shivered with barely concealed delight.
"I have been so many things in my life," Finrod began, holding her gaze in his own. "I have been son, brother, uncle, and King. I wish, now, to try husband."
Amarië stared at him in slight shock, but couldn't help but respond.
"I too have been many things in life. I have been daughter, niece, scholar, and healer. I think, now, that being wife is a pleasing thought."
Finrod's hand curled around her neck and drew her closer. "Please," she breathed out in desperation. "Please be not my dreams for if I should wake alone I will surely perish."
"No dream, my sweet Amarië. Never again shall I leave your side for in you rests my future and all its possibilities. No other can bring to me such love and contentment. You are the balm for my weary soul and the keeper of my heart."
"Ah, Finrod," she sighed. "Press your lips to mine and seal your charming proposal. You are more a man of action then words."
He laughed and kissed her deeply. In this kiss Amarië felt her soul knit together. Their road was not yet smoothly paved and many bumps awaited them. For now, however, on this sunlit afternoon, Amarië kissed her love and was content with that.