Of the arms of my brother

I stand beside the waterfall. I love this waterfall. I love he chatter of its voice over the rocks. I love the way it cheerfully tells me the news of the lands it flows over. I love how it talks with the trees, as the trees gossip among each other. Trees gossip, many people would be surprised to hear. And they tell jokes, long gentle jokes about the coming of spring and the way the apples will blush in the autumn as they remember. Today, today they do not joke. They do not gossip. The rain falls, and the leaves, the branches, the trees cry. Their hearts, the very soul of the woodlands, are filled with sorrow Today the waterfall does not chuckle, it weeps. I do not weep. The trees brought me the news. My last brother, my oldest brother, now dwells in the Halls of Mandos. Betrayed by his cousins. His people too frightened, too cowed to support him. To fulfill an oath of friendship, to help a couple who are in love. Ingoldo always was a romantic at heart.

I remember when it was snowing in Valinor when I was a little girl, one night. My big brother, my beloved big brother woke me up in the middle of the night and held me in his arms and together we watched the snow fall, from under the portico of my parents' house. The next morning we ambushed our brothers as they diffidently ventured out into the white forest. My wonderful brothers, Angaráto and Aihanaro. They were very annoyed. I remember how Ingoldo had taught me to make snowballs, and jump up and down on branches to make snow fall on the heads of those below. I remember how he taught me to ask permission from the trees before doing so. That was the first time a realized trees have a sense of humor, when they laughed when and helped me drop a huge load on someone walking below. How was I supposed to know it was grandfather Finwë? Mother and father were mortified. But the trees laughed, and so did grandfather. We played in the snow all day, Ingoldo and me, and sometimes the others would join us, even grandfather. Ingoldo took me sledding down the hill, his arms around me and I could see the lord Voronwë in the woods and he threw a snowball at us and winked at me while Ingoldo spluttered from the snow in his face. But Ingoldo laughed.

I remember one day I was frightened in the woods by the beautiful Lady, and he was there, taking me in his arms. He came running when he felt my fear, and I told him what I feared and he laughed. It was the only time he laughed at me like that. He took me and bowed to the lady as she stood there with her attendants. And he asked if he could introduce me, because I was scared of her, and he did not want his little sister, his little Nerwen, to be afraid of anything. And the Lady laughed as well. I met Elbereth and she laughed, and ruffled my hair, and Ingoldo bowed to her and praised her beauty, kindness and wisdom.

My parents were mortified again, but great-grand uncle Inwë, who was there, laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. I heard even the lord Manwë laughed about the lad who spoke to his Lady so his sister would not be afraid. When we were older, my parents told the tale with pride. I wonder how they feel, now that their laughing, wondrous, wise gentle, wild playful son is in the Halls of Mandos? I know how I feel. I am the last of my siblings on this side of the sea. I miss my brothers Angaráto and Aihanaro. I miss their laughter and their strength, the way they joked together and, yeas, the way they teased me. But I miss Ingoldo the most, he was always my favourite and I was his. I smile as I remember the time he was not.

Father caught me and Celeborn, kissing under a tree. He was quite angry, thought him unworthy of me. And Ingoldo, he agreed with him! Celeborn was not good enough for his little sister! I hated him that day, for betraying me. I still hear how they discussed it, in the study. I hear Ingoldo's telling my father that he thought it was a passing phase, that I would get over Celeborn if I were allowed to meet him openly. That Celeborn was only after the fame, the glory and the wealth of the house of Finwë. I hated him, for I loved Celeborn and knew his heart. But I persevered in demanding to see him and Ingoldo became our chaperone, convincing our father he would dissuade me from anything foolish. He treated Celeborn with utter disdain, me like a love sick calf. I hated him, and we did every thing we could to escape his watchful eye, set him up with pretty maidens and master craftsmen and wonderful books and great harpists. And we were very pleased, for he proved easily distracted, and the craftsmen of the Teleri taught him many secrets.

And then he told father we should marry, for we were well matched in temperament and our hearts sang together. We had been so busy leading him by the nose we had missed that ourselves. And at my wedding, we danced, and he held me in his arms and he told me he knew I would be happy, I need not fear.

And then, many years later, long after I had forgiven him for his behaviour, we sat by this waterfall, the three of us, and I asked him why he was not married. And he smiled sadly, but his eyes were full of love and wonder and I listened to his heart and I realized there was not one song, but two, in harmony, an old song, a beautiful one. And I could hardly remember his heart singing anything else. And he told me he loved a lady, a Vanyarin lady called Amarië and that he had for many years, longer than I had loved Celeborn. And that her father was opposed to the marriage. And so we spoke of other things.

That night Celeborn and I spoke of this, and we realized that he had not been distracted by the maidens. Ingoldo would never be distracted that way if he had a lady who knew, and owned his heart. And then that he had learned many skills from the Teleri that they had been unwilling to teach him before, until Lord Celeborn asked them to. Skills he had wanted to know.

And then I remembered who had shown me the hiding place behind the tapestry where you could overhear what father was saying in his study. And how Ingoldo led him there, from the Library, to discuss a private matter.

And we agreed, mortified, that it had been rather too easy to get away from him even at other times. And later, when I saw that no one knew sooner that two hearts were singing in harmony than my brother I knew he had not been keeping us apart, but bringing us together. I never thanked him, for the sacrifice he made, letting me hate him, no matter how much it must have hurt him. And I blush a little, and I know my husband groans, every time we realize that all the occasions we thought we were alone, he was probably quite aware of what we were doing, and where. I do so now, despite myself, and smile a little again.

I remember the last time we met, how here, by the waterfall, he put his arms around me. I felt safe, not safe and sheltered as I felt in the arms of my father, not safe and comfortable or passionate as I do in the arms of my husband, but safe and slightly mischievous, safe in the arms of my brother.

They buried him on top of a hill, covered those strong arms with rocks, those strong legs, that strong back and shoulders. I remember how he swung me on those shoulders, ran beside me on those strong legs, pushed my swing with those strong arms, held me in them when I fell and cried. I wonder of his Vanyarin lady now lies in the arms of my brother? None of us is more worthy of a quick return from the Halls of Mandos than Ingoldo.

I stand by the waterfall and Celeborn wraps his arms around me. He says nothing, but I can feel him grieve, not because I grieve, but because his friend, his companion, his brother is dead. I turn in the arms of my husband and bury my face in his shoulder and cry for the arms of my brother.