“What’s his name?” asked Gwindor.
“Ilmendin named him Skyrocket after those fireworks that Mithrandir shoots up into the air. He’s playful and jumpy, but if you’re riding him, he’s as gentle as a lamb.” Thranduil gave a simple command with his hand, and the horse immediately stooped down, folding his legs under him. “Go ahead and lift yourself up onto the saddle,” he said.
A few feet away, Erestor stepped forward to help Gwindor, but Glorfindel pulled him back. Reaching behind his back to thread his fingers with Glorfindel’s, Erestor painfully watched as Gwindor made two failed attempts at mounting the horse before his third was successful. He let out a breath of relief as the gentle creature rose back up again.
“How’s the view?” asked Thranduil.
“This is incredible!” Gwindor looked around, surveying the land. “When can we make him move?”
“Just tell him where you want to go,” said Thranduil. “He’s of the blood of Shadowfax, of Nahar before him. Your wish is his command.”
As Gwindor experimented with his newfound freedom, Erestor and Glorfindel began to voice their thanks to Thranduil. Shaking his head, he smiled at them and said, “That look, when he saw everything that was open to him-“ Tears formed in Thranduil’s eyes, and his voice changed in tone. “You know him as your son, but I knew him better as the elf he was. There are elves who fight great wars, and fell great beasts, and I think no less of them. But he of all I knew took the forefront of every battle he was in, and Morgoth trembled to hear him come. He deserves this,” said Thranduil, and the other two bowed their heads in agreement.
- - -
Across the field, Erestor explained the rules of the competition from his mount, pointing out the posts that needed to be reached and the obstacles along the path. Elrond was readying a flag: His own sons had their horses to the line and sped off as soon as Erestor drew back from the riders and the signal was given. Neither they nor the others could match the speed of the rider upon the frisky cream-colored horse that bolted to the marks, leaping around them as fleet-footed as a deer. Halfway through the race, some of the contestants were pulling their mounts aside, more interested in watching the way in which the lead horse and rider moved as one around the posts. Only the first ten would partake in the later race, but it was clear who would have the starting position.
“Who is that?” questioned Haldir as the competitors brought their horses across the line again. Glorfindel smiled proudly as Erestor walked Nahar to each of the top finishers, doubling back to the very first elf to cross the line. The silver-haired elf did not dismount as the other riders had, instead reached over and embraced Erestor while still on horseback.
“Do you not recall Gwindor, my son?” Glorfindel asked, watching as the young elf steadied himself upon his mount. “It seems so long now since the day he first arrived, especially to look at him now in his fortieth year.”
“Forty already? Ah, but then, Lasiavis is forty-three by my count, and nearly the day will come that she will...” Haldir sighed. “It is a difficult thing, to be a parent of an elf reborn. It was not easy for Belegar when his memories came back.”
Glorfindel shook his head. “I can not imagine that it was. It will be hard on Gwindor and Lasiavis as well. Odd as the circumstances were of my return, I thank the Valar my memories were not taken, even temporarily. I do not think I would have handled the sudden onslaught to my mind, especially of my death, with as much grace as other reborn elves have.”
Haldir snorted. “Belegar did not take it with grace,” recalled the Lorien elf. “I can only hope his sister takes the news better than he.”
- - -
“You bastard! You ass!” Lasiavis pulled away from Haldir and launched herself at Belegar, shoving him into the wall. His head snapped forward after hitting the wood, and Legolas tried to place himself between the pair. It was ineffective, for Lasiavis seemed to have gained some immeasurable strength, and clawed past her father, striking her brother again and again until Haldir was able to restrain her with Elodien’s assistance, and Legolas held fast to Belegar’s arm.
Everything began to pour out at once. “You were such a brat, teasing poor little Celeborn and picking on Thranduil and Avisiel, you beast, you deserved what the orcs did to you, Halmir! You and Gildor both, you should be ashamed! It’s too bad they didn’t hang him, too! I hate you!”
“Some sister you are, you’d have thrown me to the orcs, wouldn’t you Finduilas?” sneered the other young elf. “What about you?” he shouted in his fury, built of years of being kept silent while his sister regained her memory of years long past. “Look at what you did to Gwindor – threw him away for some lousy mortal, then you played him along, and he stuck to your side like a little dog who is kicked again and again and returns for the scraps from the table.”
“You lie! I loved him!” she snarled, trying to free herself.
“You loved his power, his fair face, but you did not love HIM. You said so! I heard you!”
“Stop!” she yelled, tears filling her eyes.
“I heard what you said! ‘Better he be dead and the beauty of his spirit rest in Mandos-“
“Stop it! Shut up!”
“-than it be trapped in a form so gruesome to look upon it makes me ill.’ Those were your words! You said them!”
“Stop it. Now.” Haldir’s voice rose over the sobbing and the shouting and he said, “It is futile to dwell on that past. You have a future to look forward to, given to you by the grace of the Valar.”
Belegar pulled away from Legolas. “I don’t have to listen to this. You’re not my father,” he snapped at Haldir, “and you barely count,” he added to Legolas before running up the stairs and slamming his door.
Letting go of Lasiavis, who slumped into Elodien’s arms, exhausted and crying, Haldir began to walk up the stairs but Legolas stopped him. “He didn’t mean it. He just needs time to adjust to this. Time, Haldir, now that he doesn’t have to keep it from Lasiavis.”
“Finduilas,” came a muffled voice. “My name is Finduilas.”
With a nod, Legolas stepped over and stroked Finduilas’s head. “Yes, it is, sweetheart.”
“Adar, can you take me to see Gwindor?”
“Absolutely,” said Legolas without hesitation, but Finduilas stepped away from Elodien and reached her hand over to Haldir.
“Adar, can you take me to see Gwindor?” she repeated.
Haldir nodded. “Of course.”
- - -
“He is... fragile,” Glorfindel finally settled upon. He waited until Finduilas looked up at him from across the table and nodded. “Obviously, I wasn’t there to find out firsthand what happened between the two of you in Doriath, but Erestor has told me quite enough of it, I think. We knew this would happen, that this day would come, and that you would come here to see him. I am sorry to tell you that I cannot allow that.”
Tears threatened to fall from Finduilas’s eyes as she looked to Haldir, in hopes he would try to convince Glorfindel otherwise. Haldir’s jaw was set, and he said nothing. “But, I love him!” Finduilas argued. Hugging her arms around herself, her lips trembled and she said, “You can’t keep me from him.”
Glorfindel’s sigh was labored and he said, “No, I suppose I will not be able to do that – but think of what is best for both of you. He has no recollection of what happened, of his brother, or of you. Think of how terrible it would be for him to have this put upon him. To be made to remember. How would it have been for you, had Halmir forced you to recall your past life, your past death.” He did not continue, for the door swung open and laughter followed.
“One day, Ada, Skyrocket and I shall beat you and Thay,” promised Gwindor as he hobbled through the doorway, using his walking stick on the rail alongside the door to aid him. Erestor, who was holding the door open with one hand, a bushel of apples tucked under the other, shook his head adamantly with a smile.
“My horse,” he bragged, “is faster than Nahar.”
“Oh, no,” argued his son, waving a finger into the air. “I have seen Nanafin race that stallion over the fields, a blur of white and gold. Your horse is fast; but Nahar is faster.”
“Nahar cheats,” Erestor said quickly. “He’s been cheating at everything – racing and jumping and cards and-“
“Horses don’t play cards!” Gwindor laughed as his father went on to add sailing, painting, and cooking to the list. “I think Nanafin isn’t the silly one, I think you’re the one- who-“ The pair stopped as they rounded the corner to find Glorfindel standing up, and trying his best to look cheerful. There were two elves with their backs to them, and Gwindor immediately furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Gwindor, here, take these...” Erestor shot a look to the kitchen for a moment, and then in desperation said, “Take these back outside, they will keep better out there.” It clearly pained Erestor to open the door again and watch Gwindor struggle to carry the basket outside, confused and a little upset. “Around to the back, please, thank you, ion-nin.” Erestor shut the door quickly and briskly walked up to Finduilas. “You must go. Now.”
Letting out a panicked gasp, Finduilas gripped the seat of her chair tightly. “No. No, I will not go.”
“It is not the time for him to know yet, and I will not have him to find out in such a way,” hissed Erestor. “Finduilas, it is not my desire to send you away like this, but this cannot be forced upon him.”
“I won’t. I won’t tell him anything,” she said. “Let me- just allow me to stay here, please!” Leaping out of her chair, she threw herself down at Erestor’s feet, clutching his ankles. “I know, I know I did terrible things to him, but please, please, please let me make it up in what ways I can. Let me be here, here for him when he does remember, here for him as I should have been there for him when I was not.” Her tears poured over her cheeks, raining down upon Erestor’s grass-stained feet, and he bent down to gather her into his arms and stand her back up again.
Taking a deep breath and waiting to speak until Haldir came to comfort Finduilas as well, Erestor said, “I will take your word that you will not reveal to him anything of the past, if we allow you to stay here. As an apprentice, so that Gwindor is not put off by it, and as Lasiavis, so that nothing is revealed.”
Finduilas nodded and wiped away her tears. “As your apprentice?”
“As Glorfindel’s apprentice,” Erestor said after a pause.
“I’m sorry, darling, I could have sworn you just named me,” Glorfindel said from but a few feet away.
“That I did.”
“Now why in Arda would you do that?” questioned Glorfindel, who seemed as confused as both Haldir and Lasiavis. The sound of Gwindor trying to open the door made Erestor dash for it and apologetically help his son into the house.
“Gwindor, I am so sorry, I needed to take care of – well, what it is, ion-nin, is that we shall have a boarder for the next few years, and I had not expected her to arrive so soon.” Erestor motioned for Gwindor to come with him, and helped him into the sitting room. “Gwindor, this is Lasiavis, you may remember her from quite a few years ago. This is Haldir, her other father – Lasiavis will be staying with us for a little while.”
“Why?” asked Gwindor suspiciously.
“Well, your mother has taken Lasiavis on as an apprentice, to learn...” Erestor looked to Glorfindel, who merely blinked.
“Cooking,” said Haldir.
“Cooking,” repeated Glorfindel.
‘Cooking?’ Finduilas mouthed to her father, who simply and discretely shrugged.
Erestor closed his eyes, but then opened them and smiled at Gwindor. “Yes, cooking. Among other things,” he answered, sneaking a glare at both Haldir and Glorfindel.
Gwindor did not return the friendly smile from Finduilas. Instead, he limped to the door and made his way as fast as he could back outside. Erestor followed, catching his son by the shoulders before he fell. “Ion-nin, what’s wrong?”
“Send her away!” shouted Gwindor. “I don’t want her living here!”
“Ion-nin, why? What is wrong?”
“She doesn’t like me. She stares at me in public, as if everyone cannot already see something is the matter with me, she draws the attention to me. She doesn’t like me, and I do not like her very much, either,” admitted Gwindor. “Please, Ada, tell her to go.”
Drawing his son into his arms, Erestor whispered to him, “Sometimes, Peanut, we have to do things we don’t want to do. That which does not kill us will serve to make us stronger. It is difficult for me as well, but Haldir is a friend and cousin to Glorfindel. It was many years since you have seen her; perhaps she has changed? Perhaps you might give her that chance?”
Gwindor clung to Erestor a little while longer, then stood up best he could and squared his shoulders. He flipped the hair out of his face, for it had become habit for him to let it drape over the wicked deformation. “Fine. I will do my best.”
“It is all I ask,” replied Erestor.
Nodding, Gwindor asked, “May I be excused for the night? I would like to be alone.” Erestor nodded, leaning numbly against the doorway as Gwindor struggled down the stairs and back to the stables.
Inside, Finduilas bit her hand as she wept. Haldir placed his hands upon her shoulders and said to her, “My dear, your road is not an easy path. There is much you will need to learn.”
