The house of Arafinwë Ingoldo was not in outward appearance unlike those of his brothers; even the gardens were all much of a size. The difference lay in the atmosphere. Walking off the busy street into the atrium there, Anairë had always thought, was like stepping out of Tirion altogether and into some quiet place hallowed to the Valar. Even the quality of light was different.
Nolofinwë's house, despite Anairë's best efforts, had no specific atmosphere. There was always too much bustle and worry going on for the tree of stillness to take root.
Arafinwë and his Eärwen never bustled! Of course it must be a help that they were childless. But could any child of this pair be noisy or disruptive? Both of them were so sweet, so pure and beautiful and happy!
Eärwen Olwë's daughter was Arafinwë's beloved wife of thirteen Years. She was also Anairë's dearest friend, a delicate, fine-boned Teler, possessed of the beauty of a newly-minted silver piece. Everything about Eärwen was silver. Her hair curled about her exquisite little face like spun strands of shining mercury; her eyes were great orbs of pure argent.
Anairë brooded over her brother-in-law's wife as a hen broods over her chicks. She found few things more annoying than being forced to share Eärwen's company and the glorious peace of Eärwen's house with a loquacious relative, whom she had never much liked anyway. Ilmarien, on the other hand, came prepared to 'enjoy herself tremendously'. She had changed into an astonishing gown of translucent gauze (worn over a shift, naturally). The astonishing part was the golden stars that seemed to float amidst the filmy material.
As soon as she was through the door, this vision cleared her throat, turned to Eärwen and began to talk:
"Do you know, I had forgotten how lovely your house is? One rarely sees such a beautiful taste - yours, I suppose - displayed in the furnishing of a home. It seems somehow all of a piece. How elegantly those chairs are upholstered! What exquisite needlework! I really envy you for living here, though Taniquetil has its advantages, of course. Perhaps this is a Telerin style?"
Eärwen was taken aback; she was always a little shy with those whom she did not know very well and now could barely whisper that Arafinwë was responsible for the decoration.
"Oh, how wonderful! I must envy you your husband too! And I suppose he painted these murals with his own hands! He did? Goodness! But where is Cousin Aro?"
More by her awkward silences than by her words, Eärwen imparted the information that he had discovered a prior appointment.
Findis remarked, to nobody in particular, that her foolish little brother had at least enough sense to avoid tiresome family functions, then.
Eärwen blushed a delicate shade of rose-petal pink.
It was a great relief to everyone when the other guests, Nolofinwë, Anairë and Lalwen, arrived. There was no sign of Findekáno; Anairë informed Eärwen, in a low voice designed to exclude the rest of the company, that he was 'off somewhere' with Maitimo. She was pretending not to see the enthusiastic greetings of Nolofinwë and Ilmarien.
Eärwen, making a colossal effort to overcome her shyness, asked Ilmarien if she would like a tour of the garden before dinner.
"Oh, yes! Yes! And the house too? Only the garden? Oh well, I suppose we haven't time for the house. But don't you have an extraordinary garden? Would you believe, we don't have a garden in our house? On the other hand, I suppose the countryside is quite near..."
Anairë wanted to put her hands over her ears. Hearing Ilmarien's hearty voice ring out through these sacred cloisters made her feel a little ill, and watching Ilmarien's hearty appetite at would surely make her iller. How the woman maintained her slender figure was a mystery.
Arafinwë's garden - mostly maintained 'by his own hands' - was the secret silent heart of the house. Even Ilmarien was silent for a moment in contemplation of it. Even Anairë was still in body and mind. This, as Eärwen was quick to explain, being given courage to speak by the beauty around her, was only the beginning; the garden was in no way grown into its full glory. The little saplings dotted here and there were in fact malinorni - a wedding present from Indis.
"Malinorni! How delightful! You know, I've always wanted to see one close up. When do they flower? Is it true that they're very difficult to grow?"
Ilmarien had recovered the power of speech.
