Formenos rests in winter. Memories of the Grinding Ice return to haunt Finrod even as he mends his relationship with Amarie.
11. Winter in Formenos
Winter is a time of rest, Master Olorin had said. Things did seem to slow down a little in Formenos after the frenetic bustle of the harvest. Many long winter nights were spent in the grand hall listening to the bards. After entrusting the plans for renovations to her craftsmen, Mornel turned her attention to re-shoeing her steed. Fearocco had once lashed out at the farrier and broken his arm. Mornel had since mastered the craft of hammering and fitting the shoes on Fearocco out of necessity as no other elf was keen to risk his hooves afterwards.
Mornel would chat with her steed as she worked on the horseshoes. Now she chatted about her cousin and Amarie.
Forgive me, princess, but I cannot see why those two don't just start mating already, Fearocco snorted. This courtship thing has gone long enough, even for your kind. They do love each other, don't they?
"It doesn't work that way, Fearocco…" Mornel wagged a finger at her horse. "Now, let's start with the left rear hoof." She reached into the water bucket with her tongs. The horseshoe would have cooled enough to be fitted to the horse's hoof without burning him. Fearocco obliged.
"Hullo Mornel!" Helwien called out a greeting as she leaned over the bottom of the smithy gate. "Fitting new shoes again? I thought we did that last month…"
"He lost all four of them again," Mornel grumbled. "Last night. I have no idea how he does it."
"You know, that sounds like Itarille. That little one used to drive her parents and grandparents to distraction with her missing shoes," Helwien chuckled. "Your cousin is freezing his ass off in the library. Haven't you sent any braziers up to him? Also, I doubt he will get any work done with all those nosy elves dropping by for a peek at the prince."
"Oh dear, I do hope he is not too bothered," Mornel fitted the last of the horseshoes onto Fearocco's hooves and tapped in the nails.
"Also, are you sure you do not wish for my help in taking care of those puppies?" Helwien added. "You did agree to give Chief Linwe one of those pups."
"No, Amarie is taking care of that," Mornel replied with a smile. "She does have a gentle touch and I think the puppies are thriving in her care."
It was difficult. Finrod would not lie to himself and pretend otherwise. To record the deeds of the Exiles was to relive his own experiences. He started chronologically with the Crossing of the Ice but faltered halfway through, overwhelmed by the memories he had thought long suppressed. He struggled to put the dreary trek into words. He did not realise he had been crying as he recorded the loss of Elenwe until he saw how his tears had smudged and ruined the writing.
The sharp cracks of the Grinding Ice under their feet had become so commonplace now, it was easy to ignore the warnings – until someone fell through into the icy blackness underneath. A harsh cry of surprise and then despair broke the starlit silence.
"Elenwe! No!" Turukano's cry of grief rent the air. Findarato ran on ahead and saw the gaping blackness in the jagged ice. His cousin was shivering, clasping his daughter close in his arms. Their hair was frosted from the cold air as soon as they had scrambled out of the water. Findekano was wrapping warm blankets around them before they froze to death. He glimpsed something pale in the water – Elenwe's hair as she sank into the dark depths. He knew she was gone even as his brothers stopped him from leaping in after her.
A whine and a nudge from a wet nose roused Finrod from his memories. "Hullo, Snowdrop…" Finrod smiled as he scratched behind the wolfhound's ears.
The cramped library at Formenos was not at all conducive for writing his annals of Beleriand in. Elves were constantly dropping by to refer to some obscure text. Mornel had declared the library open to all. There was a nasty draft coming in through the windows even when shuttered. The librarian had declined to allow any form of flame in the room, claiming the risk of fire, not even candles. Finrod had to write by the light of a Feanorian lamp. Such lamps emitted no heat. Even with two pairs of socks on, he risked frostbite. Hence he had retreated to the comfort of his quarters.
There was a small tapping on his door. "Come in!" Finrod called out. "The door's unlocked." He knew who it would be.
Sure enough, Amarie opened the door. Amarie had taken on the task of hand-feeding the pups when it became clear Snowdrop was not producing enough milk. There were no lactating bitches in the kennels but the kennel-master had recommended goat's milk. The puppies whined and yipped as they clamoured for Amarie's attention even though they had yet to open their eyes. It was a tedious process and Amarie could spend two hours or more patiently trying to coax them to suckle from the skin of milk. Snowdrop gamely allowed the puppies to be plucked from her side in turn to be fed. Amarie lavished special attention on the smaller and weaker pups so that they would not be left behind their stronger littermates.
Finrod stole glances at Amarie as she urged a particularly finicky pup to suckle. Olorin's words had reminded him of those halcyon days before the Darkening. The nightmares still came but with less intensity and frequency. He would awake in a cold sweat but there was Snowdrop and her puppies to remind him that he was no longer on the Ice or in Sauron's dungeon. Snowdrop would often pad to his bed over and nudge him awake if the dreams got too real for comfort. A small charcoal brazier was kept constantly lit for the puppies' sake and its glow was a welcome sight in the dark of night.
"Amarie…" Finrod screwed up his courage to approach her. "I'm so very sorry… for leaving you…"
"You did not ask if I would follow, as Elenwe's husband did of her. Would you have let me follow if I had asked?" Amarie asked as she stroked the puppy on her lap.
"Nay, I could not have demanded it of you, nor could I allow you to fall under the Doom. Had you followed, I would have beseeched you return with my father. You are too precious to me," Finrod confessed.
Amarie glanced up as he knelt down beside her. She returned the last of the puppies to Snowdrop's side. Amarie could see the ring hanging around his neck.
"Would you have me back?" Finrod asked. Amarie's eyes shone with tears, of joy or sorrow, he could not tell. Snowdrop chose this moment to give Amarie a push so that she fell into his arms. The couple gasped in shock and delicious surprise. It had been so long since they had been in such close embrace. Amarie blushed furiously. This was against all her Vanyarin upbringing but she made no attempt to pull away. The last time they had been so close was in the hours before the Noldor host left Tirion.
"Yes, I would love to be yours. You promised then you would return and you have, my prince," Amarie replied as she wiped tears of joy from her eyes. Finrod swallowed hard. He took hold of her hand and kissed the back of her fingers chastely. He did not wish to lose Amarie, Finrod admitted to himself. He still yearned for his own place, but it was no longer the glories of Nargothrond or a sceptre of rule. What he desired was a simple abode with Amarie as his wife and their children, Eru willing, around them.
"Forgive me, Amarie. I have hurt you… far too much…" He undid the throng around his neck, took the ring in his hand and slipped it onto her finger. Amarie felt her heart soar.
It will be a hard road but we would see it through… Amarie promised silently as their eyes met. Finrod gave a sigh of contentment and relief as she leaned against him. It had gone far better than he would have expected.
He was back on the ice. Elenwe and Turgon were walking in front of him with Idril between them, the very picture of a family. He heard the same ominous crack and then the ice spilt open under the small family. He ran forward to rescue the floundering elves. Turgon had his daughter under his arm and managed to claw his way onto the ice and safety. Finrod lunged forward as Elenwe started to sink under the surface, dragged down by her waterlogged garments. No, it was not Elenwe but Amarie whose eyes pleaded with him as she sank into the inky depths.
"Amarie! No!" Finrod started awake. Amarie stirred sleepily in his embrace.
"Findarato?" she yawned. They must have dozed off, lulled by the warmth of the room. "What ails you?"
"N-nothing but a bad dream…"
"What dream could have caused you such a fright?"
"I dreamt I lost you…"
"I am here, aren't I?" Amarie soothed and leaned in to plant a kiss on Finrod's lips. Finrod gingerly wrapped his arms around her. They had been sitting there too long and his legs felt numb. To his alarm, he noticed that first watery rays of the winter sun was lighting up the sky. They had spent the entire night in his room. Finrod scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pins and needles in them. He helped Amarie to her feet. She was blushing. It was considered scandalous for a Vanya maiden to spend time unchaperoned with a ner who was not close kin. To spend an entire night in the arms of a ner was unheard of, even if they were betrothed.
"I'm sorry…" Finrod blurted. For a heartbeat, both elves dared not meet each other's eyes, embarrassed by their unwitting flouting of proper Vanyarin etiquette. Snowdrop wagged her tail from the basket where she was curled up with her puppies and gave a bark to snap them out of their awkward silence.
"Come, it must be time for breakfast…" Finrod urged.
"Yes, it would not be polite to make Mornel wait…" Amarie agreed with a smile.
The shy looks the couple gave each other over breakfast did not go unnoticed. Mornel hid a smile as she passed Helwien the milk. Olorin was a guest at the table and he was entertaining Tatie and Helwien with a funny tale about the misadventures with one of Aule's Maia.
"So did he really try to make a dwarf like his master did?" Tatie asked.
"Curumo made a dwarf out of steel but it had no life, unlike the dwarves Lord Aule created. It was the size of a very plump elfling and lacked any hair. They had to wind him up so that he would walk about. He begged Lady Yavanna to give his creation life and she agreed, on the condition it walked over to her pastures without his aid."
"Did it?" Finrod asked. His interest was piqued.
"No, Curumo wound it up and it walked straight into the creek outside Aule's Mansion. I think it is still rusting on the creek bed," Olorin added with a grin. "I trust Lord Aule's actual creations were a lot more robust than my colleague's creation?"
"Aye," Finrod smiled broadly. He had dealings with the dwarves back in his first life. "They are a hardy lot, though stubborn to a fault. For the most part, they are loyal and steadfast in their friendship. It will be an ill thing if our peoples were to become enemies in these Dark Days on the Hither Shores"
"Well said, Finrod," Olorin applauded. "But I hear from Lord Manwe they were a testy lot."
"They could be brash and grumpy, but those are small flaws. Their temper is nowhere near as bad as Caranthir's…" Finrod added.
"Who is Caranthir?" Helwien asked.
"Oh, I meant Carnistir. We all took on Sindarin names in Beleriand after Thingol banned Quenya," Finrod explained. "The Noldor still speak Quenya in Nargothrond and possibly Gondolin. The Feanorions were never fond of Thingol so I think they speak Quenya at home. Still, Sindarin was needed to communicate with the dwarves, Sindar, and Nandor. We had to pick it up really quick for the sake of trade. Caranthir picked up some of the Dwarves' tongue too."
"Well, I really must return to my master. I expect Thorondor to pick me up about noon," Olorin grinned and patted Finrod on the shoulder, giving both him and Amarie a wink. "Sure you do not wish to send word to your parents? I might be able make a detour to Tirion."
Amarie did have a letter for her family in Valmar. Finrod wished to send word to his parents in Tirion.
Author's Notes:
Finrod is slowly healing. Does the reconciliation between Amarie and Finrod sound too fast? Too anticlimactic?