2. Where Ceaseless Ages Roll
After the King and Queen's display of joy in the reception hall, there was no question about Celebrían's immediate future. She was put to bed in a sumptuous guest chamber, and liveried servants brought her breakfast on a tray. In the morning court session, Arafinwë made it clear that she was to reside in the palace in Tirion as a full royal princess. Celebrían was relieved that she had a place to stay and a family who accepted her into their lives, but she did have some reservations.
"What am I to do?" she asked Eärwen, after they had left Arafinwë to deal with petitions not pertaining to family matters. "I have never been a royal princess before. I do not even know what my duties might be, much less how I am to fulfill them."
Eärwen smiled, and placed her arm around Celebrían's shoulders. "The first thing you will do," she said, "is to come with me and select a suite of rooms. The suite must be decorated to your taste, and then we must do something about your clothes. Why, you have little more than what you stand up in now."
"Decorating and clothes," Celebrían laughed. "I believe that I can do that. And then, what comes after I am settled?"
Eärwen's expression grew serious. "Then you will rest. Take at least a month of leisure. There is no need to rush to find a role or a task for you. We have all the time in the world."
Eärwen moved to face Celebrían, and grasped her shoulders firmly. "Do not think that life in the Blessed Realm has left me unobservant," she said. "You did not come to these shores entirely of your own will. Whatever event compelled you to leave your husband behind cannot have been easy or pleasant. The echoes of it remain behind your eyes. Your primary duty, for the moment, is to heal from your losses."
Celebrían sighed. "Irmo himself sent me to Tirion. Did he not believe that I was already healed?"
"It is not that simple." Eärwen took Celebrían's arm. "Come to my drawing room and take tea with me, and we will discuss this matter further."
Eärwen's drawing room was small and spare compared to the dazzling splendor of the reception hall. Its walls were a pale blue, and thin white curtains draped the windows, muting the strong morning sunlight. Two couches of dove-grey linen flanked a low table of dark wood covered with lace. At Eärwen's invitation, Celebrían sat on one of the couches. Eärwen took a tray with a delicate porcelain tea service on it from a cupboard and set it on the table, then hung a kettle on a hook over the small hearth.
"It is rarely cold enough here to require a proper fire," Eärwen explained. "But I do love to have tea in this room, and one does not wish to be constantly calling for servants to fetch hot water. So this little hearth serves my purposes admirably."
As they waited for the water to boil, Celebrían and Eärwen exchanged light conversation, primarily discussing their taste in design and decoration. The reception hall, Celebrían was relieved to learn, was a holdover from Finwë's time, but both Arafinwë and Eärwen preferred lighter, simpler elements for their private quarters. After a time, the kettle whistled, and Eärwen excused herself to tend to the tea. After she had filled both of their cups and invited Celebrían to help herself from a tin of small iced biscuits, Eärwen sat down on the couch opposite Celebrían. She pursed her lips, as if considering how best to begin their real discussion.
"The Valar are wise," she said at last. "They stood by the side of Eru Iluvátar when the world was first created, and they know its ways more intimately than even we of the Firstborn can ever hope to do. Part of their wisdom is that they understand the limits of their power."
"It is hard to imagine that they have such limits," Celebrían said. "They are more powerful than anything I have ever seen."
"That is likely true. And yet, there are things even the Valar cannot do. They could not compel Fëanáro to grant them the Silmarils, after all." Eärwen took a sip of her tea and looked at Celebrían significantly, as if she expected Celebrían to draw an obvious conclusion from this statement.
"They have not the power to compel obedience?" Celebrían hazarded a guess.
"That is partially true, and it is part of what I am trying to tell you." Eärwen set her cup down. "I suppose I should speak plainly, though it is difficult when one attempts to speak of such mysteries as the Valar. They are wise, and they have power over the physical forms of the world, but they do not have the power to command the heart or the mind. They can only teach, suggest, or request action. They cannot compel it."
Celebrían frowned. "Are you saying that Irmo could not heal me, after all?"
"Not entirely. Irmo provides a place of perfect peace and calm, an environment where a shattered fëa can take shelter while it begins to heal. Irmo can aid and guide that healing. But he cannot complete it. To be truly whole again, to be able to live in the company of others, that requires an act of will on the part of the healing fëa that Irmo cannot command. You are healed enough to leave Irmo's protection, my dear, but you must take the last steps toward wholeness on your own."
Celebrían's heart sank at the thought of enduring more of the exhausting and sometimes painful work she had done in Lórien, confronting and integrating memories of fear, torture, and illness. "How am I to do that? What are the last steps?"
Eärwen sighed. "Your first task is to discover that for yourself."
Celebrían straightened her spine and tried to look brave. The effect was ruined when the first tears began to roll down her cheeks. She turned her face aside and wiped at them with her hands, but they only flowed faster. Eärwen set her teacup down and moved to sit beside Celebrían on her couch. She took Celebrían into her arms and held her granddaughter's head against her shoulder. Celebrían finally surrendered and began to weep in earnest. Eärwen held her close and stroked her hair.
"Yes, cry your tears, child," she murmured. "Weep as much as you must. All your tears must be shed sooner or later, and a grandmother's shoulder is as good a place as any to shed them."
After a while, Celebrían stopped weeping, but Eärwen did not release her from the embrace. They sat together on the couch for several minutes in silence, looking at the cooling tea. Finally, Celebrían sat up and dried her face with the handkerchief that Eärwen handed to her.
"Do you feel better now?" Eärwen asked.
Celebrían managed a watery smile. "A little, thank you."
"Good. I think this will hardly be the only time. Whenever you need to cry, come to your grandmother. And now, let us do something amusing. We will go look at rooms for you. Do you prefer morning or afternoon sun?"
"Morning." Celebrían rose and helped Eärwen clear away the tea things. She did feel lighter inside. Perhaps this was the first step, simply existing in the world in the company of other Elves.
Celebrían and Eärwen selected a suite of rooms in the family wing of the palace that faced south. From the great storage chambers, they chose furniture that was simple, but elegantly designed, with graceful curves and rounded edges. Celebrían opened the bag of cloth that she had woven in Lórien and decided that she could make curtains for the windows. Eärwen exclaimed over the fabric and offered to summon a carpenter who could build Celebrían a loom so that she could continue her work in the palace.
"Your sitting room has that little alcove," she said. "It is just the right size for a weaving room, and we can drape a curtain across the entry to hide it if you are receiving guests."
Celebrían went into the sitting room and inspected the alcove's entry. "I may have something large enough in my bag already," she said. She knelt down and began to rummage through the lengths of fabric.
There was a knock on the door, and Celebrían turned around to see it swing open. A small, slender lady entered, shaking her bright golden hair out of her eyes. She carried a large laundry basket full of bed linens, which she plopped on the sitting room's couch with a little "Oof!" She caught sight of Celebrían and smiled, causing her blue eyes to twinkle merrily.
"Why, you must be Lady Celebrían!" she exclaimed. "Findaráto told me all about your arrival. He was so excited, it was almost as if his begetting day had come." She took Celebrían's hands and kissed her on both cheeks.
Celebrían blinked with surprise, but could not help smiling back, since the lady's cheer was contagious. "I am pleased that my arrival makes him so happy," she said. "But I fear that you have the advantage over me."
"Well, we cannot have that, can we?" the lady replied. "I am Amarië of the Vanyar, betrothed to Findaráto for – goodness, how long has it been?" she asked Eärwen.
"Your first betrothal or your second?" Eärwen teased. Celebrían looked from one to the other, unsure whether she should join in what was obviously a family joke. Fortunately, Amarië took pity on her.
"I was betrothed to Findaráto before he set off to follow Fëanáro," she explained. "I awaited his return, but he did not come back in that lifetime. Still, I had no wish to marry another, so I waited here at Tirion with the King and Queen." She smiled at Eärwen. "They have truly become a second mother and father to me."
Eärwen went to the basket of linens and began to sort them. "Celebrían, these are to be yours. Shall we choose a set and make up the bed while we chat?"
Celebrían looked at the piles of bed linens, and selected a set embroidered with small pink roses about the hems. Eärwen took the linens into the bedchamber. She stuffed pillows into cases while Celebrían and Amarië tucked the sheets around the bed.
"You have been betrothed to Finrod twice?" Celebrían asked Amarië. "Tell me how that happened."
"Finrod?" Amarië considered the name. "Yes, that was what he was called in Ennor. I suppose that is how you must think of him. I know he likes the name, but I cannot think of him as anything other than Findaráto. But you wanted to know about our betrothal. He was re-embodied several centuries ago, and Irmo sent him here – much as he must have sent you, I suppose."
"I will never forget that day," Eärwen said, sinking down in an armchair and clutching a pillow to herself. "To see one's firstborn child returning from the dead . . . that moment will stay in my heart forever."
"He was not the same Findaráto I had seen marching off with the hosts of Fëanáro," Amarië said. "His life in Ennor and his time in the Halls of Waiting had . . . changed him. It took many years before he agreed to resume our betrothal. Because it had been so long, I wished to repeat the ceremony, just so that I could be sure that it was really true, that my beloved had actually returned to me."
Celebrían fussed with the quilts to hide her dismay over the report that Finrod had taken so long to recover. But, she reasoned, he had returned from death, as she had not. Perhaps she would not need nearly so long before she felt like herself again. "When will you be married?" she asked Amarië.
Amarië and Eärwen looked at each other. "Findaráto has had so many good days recently," Eärwen said. "We should discuss the matter. Perhaps the end of the summer would be a good time."
"The end of the summer?" Amarië looked startled. "I think Findaráto might agree to that. But do you think that we can possibly be ready so soon? I have neither wedding gown nor canopy."
"I can help you there," Celebrían offered. "My grandmother tells me that a carpenter from Tirion will arrive shortly to build a loom so that I might resume my weaving. If you would like, I will weave your wedding canopy."
Amarië's eyes sparkled. "Would you do that?"
"Of course." Celebrían's voice was a little stronger, now that she had a specific task ahead of her. "You will be marrying my mother's brother, after all, so you will be my aunt. It would be my honor to weave a wedding canopy for my aunt."
Amarië stared at Celebrían for a moment, then burst out in peals of delighted laughter. "You are right!" she cried. "I had not thought of it before. My niece. Oh, I will like that. I had hoped we would be friends, but now we will be related, too!"
She threw her arms around Celebrían, and Celebrían returned the embrace. All of a sudden, her prospects in Aman seemed much brighter. She had family, and now she had a friend, as well.
Amarië formally requested the wedding date when the royal family gathered for dinner that evening. Startled, Finrod laid down his knife and fork and stared at his betrothed for a long moment, before a wide grin split his face. "That is a wonderful idea," he said. "We have been betrothed so long that I had become accustomed to that fact, and I had almost forgotten to think about the marriage itself."
Amarië blushed. "I had almost forgotten as well."
"It is a good thing that I have come to remind you," Celebrían teased gently.
Finrod rose from his chair and moved around the table to kiss Amarië thoroughly before responding to that remark. "Had I had any doubts that you were indeed my sister's daughter, you have now laid them to rest, for you have certainly inherited her sharp tongue." Everyone at the table laughed, and Celebrían laughed as loudly as any of them.
Arafinwë signaled a servant to bring more wine to the table. When it arrived, he eased the cork from the bottle with a loud pop that made Celebrían jump. The wine sparkled and foamed in the glasses when he poured it. Celebrían exclaimed over it with delight, for she had never seen any drink that danced so merrily before. After everyone had been served, Arafinwë rose and lifted his glass.
"This is a joyous occasion indeed," he said. "Last night, I welcomed my lovely granddaughter into my family. Tonight, because of her intervention, I have occasion to welcome Amarië, my daughter-to-be. This is truly an occasion of joy and rebirth for the House of Finwë. Findaráto, Amarië, I wish you all the joys of marriage, the love, companionship and the support that only a spouse can provide. May your marriage endure in bliss forever."
He drank deeply, and the others followed suit. The wine tickled Celebrían's nose as she drank, and she giggled. Eärwen leaned over and touched her arm.
"Allow me to be your grandmother and warn you not to drink too much of that," she said. "It is clear that you did not have sparkling wine during your life in Ennor, so you do not know how quickly it will go to your head."
"If that is true, then one sip has already addled me," Celebrían replied. "For I feel as if I could fly. I feel that I have a family once again, and I need no sparkling wine to make me giddy with the joy of that."
Eärwen could not deny the truth of that. Finrod raised his glass to drink a health to his bride-to-be, and the family rejoiced and made merry late into the night.
In the morning, Amarië sat down with Celebrían to begin designing the wedding canopy and Amarië's wedding gown. Amarië asked Celebrían endless questions about her own wedding and about the intricacies of married life. Celebrían teased her about having to acquire such information from her niece, and Amarië laughed at the idea.
Celebrían found that she enjoyed spending time with Amarië. Amarië's twinkling eyes and ready laugh reminded her of Glorfindel, save that Celebrían could detect no shadow lurking behind Amarië's eyes. Hers was a laugh with most of its innocence still intact, and Celebrían relished that quality in her friend. Few of the people she had known in Middle-earth maintained such innocence into adulthood.
One of Celebrían's few clear memories of the year following her capture and torment in the Redhorn Pass was of watching the light fade from her children's eyes. She had mourned at the new sorrow growing in Arwen, and she had turned away in fear at what she had seen growing within the twins. Celebrían wished that there were some way for her to send a message home to tell her family that she had not intended to hurt them by deserting them, but that was impossible. She would simply have to live with that on her conscience.
In the meantime, she would do what she could to ensure that Amarië experienced all the joys of marriage as Celebrían remembered them, beginning with a lovely wedding canopy woven of gossamer-weight thread and embroidered with little flowers and vines. There was nothing Celebrían could do about the state of her own marriage, so she might as well begin by helping her friend make a good start of hers.
Finrod and Amarië finally settled on the last day of summer to hold their wedding. It was close enough to seem real, but not so close that a lovely ceremony could not be arranged. The palace at Tirion became a bustle of activity. Finrod's bachelor apartment was rearranged and redecorated to make it suitable for a married couple. Arafinwë and Eärwen spent hours planning a great feast such as was proper when the King's firstborn son took a bride. Amarië sent word of her imminent marriage to her parents, and asked them to come to Tirion as soon as they could to help her prepare. In the meantime, she took Celebrían into her confidence, and the two ladies worked together for hours at a time making Amarië's canopy and gown.
Arafinwë sent private invitations by messenger to those few members of the royal family who still dwelt in the Blessed Realm. Anairë, who was a dear friend of Eärwen, immediately sent the bridal couple a silver table service and a promise that she would attend the wedding. Ingwë, King of the Vanyar, sent a new carriage, with a team of matched bay horses. Even Nerdanel, who did not emerge often from her solitary home deep in the woods, sent a graceful little sculpture in bronze and a message that she would attend Finrod and Amarië's wedding.
Finally, when all of the family had indicated whether or not they would attend, Arafinwë made the public announcement. At high noon, the royal family dressed in their finest and filed out onto a balcony overlooking a large public plaza. Royal criers had gone through Tirion that morning, advising people that the King would be speaking. As a result, the plaza was filled with Elves, Vanyar and Noldor alike, all gazing up at the balcony with expectant looks on their faces. Arafinwë took Finrod and Amarië by the hands and tugged them forward on the balcony. There was a last-minute flurry, and then a hush fell over the crowd. Arafinwë looked out at the assembled people and smiled broadly.
"People of Tirion, of Valinor," he said. "It is with the deepest joy in my heart that I announce to you the imminent joining of two Houses into a new House, the perpetuation of Eru Iluvátar's great plan for us, his Firstborn. On the last day of summer, my son Findaráto Ingoldo, firstborn High Prince of the Noldor, will take as his bride the woman he has loved since his childhood. I present to you my son's bride, the woman soon to become the newest daughter of the House of Finwë, Amarië of the Vanyar!"
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the crowd below let out a wild cheer. Amarië blushed bright pink, and Finrod kissed her, which drew even louder cries from the crowd. Arafinwë and Eärwen beamed, and Celebrían found herself cheering and applauding as loudly as anyone in the plaza. The noise did not die down, and eventually Arafinwë declared the rest of the day to be a holiday. The crowd roared its approval, and several street musicians began to play. People began to dance to the music, and Arafinwë laughed. Then Eärwen took him by the hands and began to dance with him right there on the balcony. Celebrían hiked her skirts above her knees and began to jig, the first time she had danced in over a year.
So the people of Tirion celebrated the culmination of a love that had endured since before the Sun rose in the sky, and a betrothal that had lasted three Ages of the world. In the middle of it all, Finrod and Amarië kissed and kissed, oblivious to the revels that surrounded them.