Mornel speaks with Finrod when she returns Amarie's ring.
5. Ivy and Wormwood
The Gardens of Lorien were a restful place. Mornel found her cousin lounging on a wicker chair under the shade of the apple trees. He seemed at ease with apple blossoms caught up in his tousled hair. His injured leg was propped up on a small footstool. A canary hopped down from its branch and perched on his shoulder, singing its carefree song. His eyes were closed in the manner of many of Irmo's charges as Lady Etse's healing sleep mended their fea and hroa. He stirred as if sensing his visitor.
Mornel gripped the ring in her fist. She wore a dress of cool green trimmed with gold embroidery. Her raven hair was tied back in a simple braid. She cut a modestly girlish figure. Findis was wary after their initial encounter almost ended in disaster. She had seen to Mornel's dressing that morning to ensure she would not trigger any violent reactions from Findarato by reminding him over much of her father or brother. From her talk, Mornel had also learned more about her cousin. He now called himself Finrod, a corruption of his fine Quenya name, their aunt sniffed. His Quenya had gone all strange in Beleriand, Findis exclaimed. Mornel recognized the Sindarin accent behind his words.
"Curu- no, Mornel…" Finrod blinked his blue eyes and corrected himself. "Greetings and apologies, cousin…" he stumbled over his rusty Quenya. His eyes still bore the light of the Trees in them as they took in the sight of his cousin, looking away guiltily when they saw the bruises on her neck.
"Mae govannen, Cousin Finrod. No harm done to me, though I wish the same could be said of Lady Amarie," Mornel spoke in Sindarin. Finrod flinched at Amarie's name.
"For many yeni she has waited and prayed for your return. She would have waited till Arda breaks if need be. Will you not even deign to speak with her again?" Mornel continued.
"The one she waits for is gone. Hence I must break our troth."
"Then let us follow the custom of our people with the return of the rings," Mornel held out Amarie's ring on the palm of her hand. "Ivy, you chose the symbol of fidelity well for Amarie has been faithful to your memory all this while. She will wait…"
"She has wasted her time waiting for a ghost. I would that Curufin had etched wormwood onto that for I know I will cause her nothing but sorrow," Finrod retorted but made no move to take back the ring. He had sought out the best craftsmen to craft the betrothal ring, only to find most had followed his uncle into exile. It was then that he remembered Curufin's ring, forged well before the rift.
"It's a failure," young Curufinwe scowled at his latest handiwork and was about to toss it into the slag pile.
"Don't, it is beautiful," his cousin protested. Findarato had gone to the forge out of curiosity and the silver wreath of ivy forming the ring seemed the most exquisite thing he had seen.
"Keep it then," Curufinwe scoffed. "Maybe you might find a willing bride with it." Many saw the children of Arafinwe as provincial after their childhood in Alqualonde. Curufinwe was no exception. It would take many seasons for Findarato and his siblings to master the intricacies of Tirion court-life.
It was still beautiful when he found it in his jewellery-case and it fitted perfectly on Amarie's finger as if it had been crafted for her.
"Your ring from Amarie, cousin?" Mornel queried with a sly smile. Finrod scowled. It reminded him too much of Curufin.
"You know I have it not." A visible shudder ran through his being at the memory of his death. That unadorned iron band would be lying in his grave. No fancy metalwork for the Vanyar, thank you. Strange, but he had been loath to part with it, even on the Quest. He had gladly given away his father's ring to Barahir but nothing would have parted him from Amarie's ring, save Death.
Mornel watched his face quietly all this while. She had learned to observe and watch, both as a child and later as she sat in council in Formenos. Watch, listen and learn, Olorin had advised. Lord Morwe was loud and brash but it was his quiet brother Nurwe who could be relied upon to deliver on his promises both good and ill. With the glances the milkmaid and the tanner's son were giving each other, it was no surprise to her when they sought permission to wed.
"You still feel for Amarie," Mornel stated matter-of-factly.
"That is exactly why I wish to spare her. How can I let her live the rest of her eternal life bound to an ellon so marred? Things I have seen and experienced across the Sea… I was not yet healed when they freed me." Finrod clenched his fists in his lap.
"She called you wise. Amarie is more than willing to share your burden, until you are healed. Do you think her some delicate flower, cosseted in Ingwe's palace, ready to wither with the first frost? She is far stronger than you credit her for, that I know. The deepest wound you could have inflicted is to her heart and you have done just that. Consider my words, cousin." Taking his hand in hers, Mornel closed his fingers about the ring.
"Much has changed in Aman. Those left behind have changed too, for better or worse. Your parents and grandmother wait in Tirion. King Olwe and Queen Falmiril wait in Alqualonde. The gates of Formenos will be open to you once you leave Lorien."
"Have they forgiven us? The Lindar… Alqualonde burned…" Finrod groaned and placed a hand over his eyes. The hand holding the ring remained clenched in his lap.
"Your father has made reparations for the damage to the docks. The ties between Tirion and Alqualonde are healing as we speak. Your uncle Prince Earlindo has been re-embodied and now dwells on Tol Eressea. My own amil works in Alqualonde supplying statues to King Olwe's gardens and those of the nobles," Mornel explained. Ties were almost back to normal but there were still spots of unpleasantness. Some of her amme's statues for a park had been vandalized once, splattered with red paint. Perhaps they had reminded them too much of Feanaro and his sons.
"Aunt Nerdanel's marble statues were always well-liked in Alqualonde," a weak smile came to the prince's lips. "Forgive me, cousin. I feel faint… The sun… too bright…"
Immediately an attendant Maia appeared beside them, ready to assist Finrod indoors to rest. It was time for Mornel to go.
"You would come by again, wouldn't you? Aunt Findis fusses too much," Finrod asked. Speaking with Mornel had been enlightening and he wanted so badly to know more about this new Aman.
"Shall I bring Eldalote, your law-sister?" Mornel asked hopefully. It was a start being invited back by her cousin.
Finrod went pale and shook his head. "No, not yet, I am not ready to face my law-sister – or Lady Amarie." However, Mornel noted that Finrod had carefully slipped Amarie's ring into his pocket instead of casting it from him.
"Has he news of Angarato and my dear Artaresto? Are they well? Are they safe? Are they alive? When will they return?"
Mornel had barely stepped into the room when she was beset by a barrage of questions from Eldalote.
"Steady, Lote. Let her breathe," Findis warned.
"We did not have opportunity to speak of Beleriand or our sundered kin," Mornel replied as she washed her face and hands before grabbing two apples from Findis' basket - one for herself, the other for Fearocco. She needed to change out of her dress before she could go riding. Eldalote could not keep the disappointment off her face.
"Have you returned him the ring then?" Amarie asked quietly from beside the window where she had been sorting herbs for Findis.
"Aye," Mornel admitted. "But he loves you still. Isn't it strange we try to protect the ones we love yet we hurt them all the more?"
Amarie gaped at Mornel's words. Dare she hope? Findarato was her One. She had known it since that moment when their eyes had met when they reached for the same scroll. She had often dreamed in those halcyon days of Light and bliss. They would be wed and have children. She cared not if they would live in Tirion or Alqualonde. Findarato was fond of the seaside and might want a vacation villa there. They would visit her family in Valmar frequently… All the dreams had come to nought with the Darkening.
"Don't fret, there is still hope. Finrod needs time to come to his senses," Mornel reassured her friend.
"Finrod?" Amarie looked puzzled.
"I mean Findarato. Finrod is the name he goes by now."
"It is strange on the tongue but less of a mouthful," Amarie frowned momentarily.
"Mornel, I do hope you intend to wean him off that horrid Sindarin. It is fine for Formenos but a Crown Prince of Tirion should not be speaking that barbaric tongue," Findis clucked. Mornel only smiled.
It will be slow but I have faith Cousin Finrod will see sense and marry Amarie. We just need time… Like Eldalote said, it takes many seasons to grow an apple orchard. If Finrod has the time to accept his new life and whatever happened back over the sea, he would not have anything holding him back from marrying Amarie. If only we can make Grandma Indis see that too.
"What do you mean there is an invitation for the Noldorin Crown Prince's binding ceremony?" Prince Ingwion frowned at the gilt-edged invite he had just received from a messenger. His wife Elsornie shrugged. Their daughters looked over from where they were working on a tapestry under their grandmother's instruction.
"Prince Findarato has not even returned to Tirion yet to swear his fealty although Findis has confirmed his re-embodiment in Lorien. I fear Lady Indis is overly eager. She did enjoy arranging gatherings and such…"
"I know, she arranged our binding despite my father's misgivings. I recall the choir she had for Findarato's betrothal party. He's her favourite grandchild," Ingwion bit his lip thoughtfully. "Don't let Mother talk you into making a new gown yet, Sorna."
Author's Notes:
Mae govannen (Sindarin) – Well met.
In the language of flowers, Ivy represents fidelity. Wormwood, bitter sorrow.
Finrod will need time to heal and Indis extending wedding invites will only complicate matters from Valmar to Alqualonde.