Oranges in winter from Tirion bring back warm memories for Finrod.

10. Puppies and Oranges

Mornel quietly confronted Finrod about the poppy, as distasteful a task as it was. It was necessary. She demanded Finrod surrender all of the poppy tincture he had obtained from the apprentices. After much denial, he finally surrendered a half-empty vial of the mixture.

"If you are troubled by nightmares still, I will be glad to sing some songs of healing to ease you," Mornel had volunteered. She had taken some lessons in singing the songs under Serelinde. To their dismay, Finrod declined her offer and that of Amarie. Little did the nissi knew that Finrod still held a vial of poppy. He was careful to hide the tell-tale signs of using the drug in the following days, avoiding the pair if he had dosed himself too heavily the night before. This deliberate avoidance alarmed Amarie but slipped unnoticed by Mornel.

"You are being a fool, my prince," Helwien snorted when she encountered a clearly-drugged Finrod staggering to the make-shift baths one morning after having misjudged the dose the night before – a common occurrence now that the nightmares came more frequently. He had awoken in a state of grogginess but the shock of a cold bath should rouse him sufficiently to sit at breakfast. "Poppy will not keep the bad dreams away but give them more teeth to bite," she called out after him.

"Will you tell Mornel then?" Finrod turned to face Helwien after he had dunked his head into a basin of icy water.

"She needs not the trouble of nursing you on top of running this place," Helwien retorted as she emptied a bucket of cold water over her head. The elves of Formenos were not shy about their bodies. It was not uncommon for both sexes to share the same bathing pool nude. She repeated the process with the bucket twice before towelling herself off.

"Please don't tell Amarie…"

"What does it matter to you if I do tell? You broke off with her, didn't you?" Helwien raised an eyebrow and flicked her damp red tresses over her shoulder.

"Please promise me not to tell… I can't bear that she…" Finrod clammed up as a troop of laughing apprentices entered the bathhouse. Helwien only shrugged, threw on her shift and strolled off. It seemed to Finrod that Amarie kept glancing his way over the breakfast table while Mornel chatted in Sindarin with her Silvan guests from Lord Orome's Woods. Did they know about the poppy? He could not tell. Helwien had stopped by only long enough to grab a small loaf of bread before hurrying off to the workshops.

Despite the blankets laid out by Mornel next to the kitchen stove, Snowdrop chose to whelp in Finrod's bed, dragging herself up two winding flights of stairs to do so. Finrod was lying in one of his poppy-induced reveries when the hound scrabbled her way through his unlatched door. Normally he would have locked himself in for the night but he was in such a state the night before after hearing a shepherd speak of wolves prowling the high meadows that he had fumbled with the latch and it had not caught. Mornel had agreed to have sturdy stone buildings built to replace the wooden lean-tos for the shepherds in the glens of the Pelori where their flocks grazed. That would take time and be complete in summer. Should the wolves continue to prove a nuisance, a hunting party would be dispatched. The wilds of Aman did have its predators, though most did not harass the elves. The predators had a role in weeding out the weak and sick among the deer and bison, Lord Orome had stated when Yavanna introduced the wolves and bears. Moreover, wolf-hunting could provide sport for his disciples should they tire of deer.

The prince awoke to the coppery tang of blood in the air and Snowdrop's distressed whimpers. Opening his eyes, he was faced with the muzzle of what seemed to be a giant wolf. Thinking himself back in Sauron's snare, Finrod screamed. Snowdrop whined and licked his face.

"Findarato! What's wrong?" Amarie came running. Mornel had put her just across the hallway from Finrod's room and she had heard his scream. She ran through the open door to find a shaking Finrod in his bed face-to-face with Snowdrop, who was lying on top of the coverlet. There were two shivering scraps of damp fur on the coverlet beside her.

"Findarato, it's only Snowdrop…" Amarie coaxed as she eased the hound off Finrod so that he could get up. She grabbed the two new-born puppies and awkwardly wrapped them in her dressing robe to keep them warm. Her injured arm was still bound up in its sling. Snowdrop dropped her head back onto the bed and whimpered. The third pup was too big and had gotten stuck in the birth-canal. Its dam was now struggling to bring it into the world.

"Findarato, I must go fetch Mornel…" Amarie exclaimed when Snowdrop's dire state became apparent to her. Before Finrod could stop her, she was off into the bewildering maze of corridors and chambers which formed the keep. Snowdrop whimpered again in pain and nuzzled his hand, seeking some small comfort. He had tended to his own hunting hounds in both Aman and Beleriand. He hummed a melody which was not quite a song of healing but one he took comfort in as a child. He stroked the wolfhound's head. The poor bitch was exhausted. If he not been under the poppy's spell, would he have noticed her distress sooner? He promised to surrender the little which remained of his poppy to Mornel. A faint yelp reminded Finrod of the two puppies. Gently, he gathered them up and held them before their mother for her to smell.

"You poor thing…" Mornel sat down beside the struggling hound as soon as she came into the room with Tatie and Amarie. The older nis felt the bitch's belly and where a paw stuck out from her body. Tatie shook her head. The unfortunate pup was stillborn.

"We have to cut her open to save the rest – there are at least three more inside," Tatie explained. "Hold her steady." There was little time to lose and she took out her knife. The bitch yipped and kicked out weakly as Tatie sliced into her belly. Finrod took her large muzzle and held it in his lap with the puppies, singing softly to keep her calm. Mornel sang a song of comforting as she held the hound's body down. Finrod had to look away as the coppery smell of blood became more acute. It was underlined by the sour tang of the birth fluids. The coverlet was soaked in them. Amarie aided where she could, passing towels and thread to Tatie and Mornel. Finrod was no stranger to surgeries, having assisted in the healing tents and wards in Beleriand. The smell and sounds were all too familiar to him. He felt Amarie's hand on his shoulder, patting him reassuringly.

Finally, the exhausted mother was stitched up and her five surviving pups cleaned, dried, and feeding greedily from her teats. The family rested on a rug before a brazier to keep them warm. Mornel sent for fresh linens for Finrod's bed. Snowdrop was a large hound and it would be difficult getting her downstairs until she had recovered enough from Tatie's crude surgery.

"I guess she will be staying with you, Finrod," Mornel remarked causally as she pocketed the vial of poppy Finrod surrendered to her once Amarie left for more blankets. "Will it be a problem?"

"None at all," Finrod replied glibly but his eyes darted to Snowdrop's wolfish bulk.

"Amarie's room is just across from yours… if you need help…"

"I don't…"

"Finrod, I know you were once a king in Beleriand and lord over a realm. But even kings need help sometimes. Even your father needed help running Tirion," she patted her cousin on the shoulder. "At the very least, you could help keep Amarie company. Her arm will take a week or more to heal fully. She might get bored. There's a small library in the West Tower, mostly technical texts. We would like to compile a record of the deeds of the Eldar in Beleriand. Perhaps you could aid us in that."

"Very well, I will contribute where I can," Finrod replied, relieved he could be of some use to his cousin. Having a task would stop him from thinking back on those dark dreams. A growl from his belly reminded him that he had not eaten breakfast yet.

The following day was clear enough for Master Olorin to fly in on one of the Great Eagles with letters from Tirion. Arafinwe had written to his son and niece. He also sent a basket of fruit. Mornel greeted Olorin warmly with a kiss on his cheek. Amarie dropped a curtesy while Helwien inquired about the happenings back in Tirion. Olorin informed her in jest that her best workers had not yet run off to join a rival dyehouse yet, but might with the standard of the new recruits she took in this year. Helwien responded with a guffaw and slapped the Maia on the back.

"His Majesty remembers how you used to enjoy tangerines from the gardens…" Olorin smiled as he handed the basket to the prince. Finrod blinked away tears at the memory of lazy afternoons spent in Indis' orangery. He always enjoyed the sweet tangerines and he had missed them terribly in Beleriand. Sometimes he would dream of the fruit at night. He had kept the seeds from the last tangerine he shared with his sister on the Grinding Ice. He gave half of them to Turgon in hopes he would plant them in his own hidden city. He kept his own seeds until he came to the fertile-looking lands near Nargothrond. His seeds never spouted. Turgon's did and he sent a basket of the fruit to his cousin as a gift when Finduilas was born. They had turned tough and leathery by the time they reached Finrod.

These tangerines were fresh and a little chilled from the crisp winter air. Finrod took one from the basket and inhaled deeply of the citrus scent emanating from it. He would offer some to his cousin and Amarie. Amarie enjoyed infusing her tea with the fragrant peel. They had discussed planting a grove of their own on the foothills outside Tirion and building a villa with sprawling vistas and terraces among the orange trees where their offspring could grow up enjoying the golden fruit from the surrounding trees. Amarie enjoyed wearing white orange blossoms in her hair in the heady days of their courtship. In Beleriand he had often dreamed of Amarie wearing her crown of orange blossoms as if she were a bride.

Olorin coughed. "You could still have that orange grove and villa you have always dreamed of with Amarie, you know…" he nudged the prince. The nissi had wandered off to the far end of the parapet where they were speaking with the Great Eagle. Mornel was interested in the dynamics of bird flight and the eagle was trying to explain that Helwien's theory of feathers only as the key to flight was misguided. Sewing feathers to one's sleeves would not grant one the power of flight and he would strongly advise against anyone attempting it.

"M-master Olorin… I don't think…"

"You just need to heal. Allow yourself to be healed, Findarato."

"But, I fear I am damaged beyond…"

"Nonsense, Eru freed you from the Doom for a reason."

"As an example of what awaits us in the Hither Shores?" Finrod retorted bitterly. Olorin had been a frequent caller on his grandfather in Tirion and Finrod had discussed philosophy with the Maia on occasion. Sometimes he had found himself questioning the intentions of the Valar as his uncle did but to a lesser extent.

"Nay. You were released in light of your noble deeds in Beleriand with regards to Beren and Luthien. Yavanna and Este set the time of winter as a season of rest, where plants and animals alike could recover and wax strong. Let your time at Formenos be a time of healing for you and Amarie both. Now, how do you find your little cousin?" Olorin's face crinkled in a smile.

"Well, she is an able leader and a modest one," Finrod replied. "Formenos does seem to be thriving under her."

"This was not achieved in a day, you know. She had help from Mahtan, your father, and many others along the way to get where she is now. Likewise, your healing will take time. Allow yourself to take that time, allow those who care for you to help you."

Author's Notes:

Olorin is giving some much needed advice to Finrod. Hopefully, his stay at Formenos will become more tolerable for him and his loved ones.

I like the idea of Finrod's future household in a Mediterranean-style villa surrounded by orange trees and vineyards. I think he deserves that after being stuck in a cave-city for so long. It's a pity his orange seeds got waterlogged in Nargothrond.