Curufin gets beat up in the Halls. (Sorry, could not resist.)

4. Broken Promises

My first meeting with my cousin Findarato did not go well. He mistook me for someone else… I pray our next meeting will go better.

"H-he tried to choke you?" Amarie gasped in horror as Eldalote dabbed a soothing balm onto the ugly bruises left behind by Findarato's fingers. Mornel nodded glumly. She had wanted to cover the marks with Eldalote's scarf but Eldalote insisted she had the bruises treated first. That was when Amarie strolled in and saw the marks.

"Ingoldo would never…" Amarie exclaimed. Tears ran down her cheeks anew. Perhaps her beloved had been changed irreversibly by his experiences and no longer loved her.

"Now, don't be foolish," Eldalote chided as if reading Amarie's thoughts. "As Lady Findis said, he is not quite settled into his new hroa yet. Perhaps in a few more days, he would have come to his senses… Watch it, horse!" Fearocco had stuck his great head through the open window and butted Eldalote.

"Sorry, Fearocco… I don't think we can go riding today," Mornel apologized and kissed him on the nose. Fearocco snorted and turned to leave.

"Keep away from my Tari, she's too old to foal again," Eldalote warned. More than half the horses at Formenos could trace their lineage to Fearocco. Leaving a mare with Fearocco was a guaranteed way to end up with a foal. It had caused some awkwardness for Mornel when Fearocco got all the mares in Formenos with foal one season, rendering them unable to work during the sowing. An irate Tatie had suggested neutering the stud and Fearocco had gone into hiding. Still, having a horse sired by a son of Nahar was a mark of prestige among the Eldar as such horses were known for their stamina, speed, and loyalty.

Unseen, the Maia Olorin watched the re-embodied Crown Prince of the Noldor finish his gruel. Eru Iluvatar has plans for this one, but Lord Manwe would not divulge more to his servant. Olorin wondered if Lady Vaire would mind if he nipped into her Halls for a bit. It was true not all the tapestries were displayed for the viewing of the Eldar in Aman, for many would only cause grief to the Eldar who remained behind.

Miriel Serinde would have worked on the ones recording the deeds of the descendants of Finwe. She had been busy over the past few yeni. She could barely take time out to meet her granddaughter. Miriel had not shared with Mornel the events across the sea as it had been forbidden. Instead, the pair's conversations were about happenings in Formenos or Tirion.

Perhaps Miriel was also forbidden to discuss with Olorin what befell Findarato in his first life. Never mind, there were always the tapestries and a Maia could access the Halls of Awaiting easily enough. Olorin immediately transported himself there and found himself right in the middle of a family squabble.

"Where's my brother?" Angarato shouted. "What have you done to Finrod?"

"We have nothing to do with this!" Curufin yelled. The hapless Feanorion was being mobbed by a crowd of very angry elves. His brothers were nowhere in sight. Perhaps they had already fled for a safer corner of the Halls.

"Sure, and Dwarves will fly…" someone sniped. Curufin was set upon and viciously pummeled.

"Cease this nonsense!" Olorin boomed. He grabbed Angarato's arm. Lord Namo's Maiar would come hurrying to deal with the riot. Curufin would have to fend for himself until the other Maiar came.

"Your brother has been taken by Lord Namo and is in good hands," Olorin whispered to the prince.

"Is he healing then? Has Lady Nienna taken him into her care like she did with cousin Irisse?"

"Aye, he is healing." Do not tell, not yet… Olorin bit his tongue as Lord Namo's voice warned in his mind. The Vala sounded mildly annoyed. All that happens within Mandos is known to Lord Namo and it was his wishful thinking he could slip in unnoticed by the Doomsman.

"What brings you here, Master Olorin?" the second prince of Arafinwe asked. He sounded calm enough now although his fists were clenched as if he wished he had punched Curufin a few more times before being pulled away.

"I wish to see the tapestries of the deeds of your brother Findarato while in Exile. It is to help in his healing."

"Ah, they are in the second corridor on the left… Come, I will show you there…"

An hour later, Olorin returned to the Gardens of Lorien. No wonder the sight of Mornel, so much like Curufinwe, had caused the noble Findarato to act in so uncharacteristic a manner. The wounds on his fea are deep. Mairon, no, he is Sauron now. He had once been so promising among the Maiar. A formidable foe. Olorin shivered despite the sunshine. He guessed most of the injuries to the prince's fea had been inflicted during the contest. All that pain, grief, despair and guilt… Even in Mandos it would have taken an age to heal, what more when the fea is unwillingly re-embodied?

He could not speak of the events causing Findarato's grief, even if Lord Namo had not advised him against it. It would only cause more grief to Findarato and his loved ones.

"Never give up hope, Amarie. He will recover," Findis coaxed. "His love for you…"

"His love? I have not felt his love since his return… Nay, even before that! Why did he leave Aman instead of turning back as his sire did?"

The grief and hurt at her betrothed's rejection had melted into anger. Mornel grabbed the betrothal ring as Amarie tried to hurl it out the window. Amarie had always worn that band of silver on her finger.

"Really, you are overwrought… Come, a calming draught will put you to rights…" Aunt Findis retorted and placed her hands on her thin hips as if she were scolding a wayward elfling.

"Lote, have you felt your husband since he left?" Amarie turned to her fellow noblewoman. Sadly and slowly, Eldalote shook her head. Perhaps she also feared what she might find when it was Angarato's turn to be re-embodied.

Mornel studied the thin band of silver. It was carved with a ring of ivy leaves. Findarato would have left his own betrothal ring behind in his grave on the Hither Shores. Already Indis was making plans for her grandson's wedding in Tirion, so Findis said. It would be a shock for her to learn the betrothal was off.

"Amarie, if you so desire, I will return this ring to my cousin on your behalf." If anything, it would give her a chance to speak with Findarato.

In distant Tirion, Arafinwe frowned. His head was throbbing after four hours of council meeting. He had scarcely retired to his private chambers for the day when Indis came in with her plans for his firstborn's wedding. Sweet Earwen had agreed to take on the task of discussing the arrangements with Indis while he rested. The headache still did not let up.

"Earwen, I feel ill at ease." Arafinwe plodded over to where his wife sat by the fire working on a shirt.

"All will be well, dearest, once Ingoldo is home." Her voice was listless. Perhaps the wedding arrangements had worn her out too.

"Nay," Arafinwe shook his head. He bent and laid his cheek against his wife's. He took the shirt from her hands and set it aside. "I fear that is only the beginning."

"I understand…" Earwen reached up to stroke his cheek. "I should be able to feel the son I had borne but all I sense is silence. Perhaps he is not ready yet to meet us." Her own family had experienced the trials of re-embodiment. Lindo had hidden from his parents for a month after his return. It was two seasons before he was at ease enough to walk with his atar on the rebuilt wharves.

Come with me, Arafinwe helped his wife to her feet. The pair headed for their bedchamber although the dinner bell had not yet rung. They still enjoyed each other's company although they had long known there would be no more elflings after Artanis. It was necessary for them to snatch whatever small comfort they could in such uncertain times.

Author's Notes:

I am playing on the osanwe aspect of an elf's telepathic link with their beloved, spouse and family. Finrod is purposely shutting out Amarie and his parents. Mornel is sadly lacking in the osanwe part aside from her horse as she was away from her parents and siblings for much of her childhood.