The Findaráto Diaries by Fiondil

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Chapter 36: Lady Amarië Returns

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36: Lady Amarië Returns

The success of that first court not only boosted my morale and sense of self-worth, but also improved my standing among my atar’s courtiers, especially the younger ones. I was seen less as ‘that Reborn ellon’ and more as ‘the Noldóran’s haryon’ by most of them. Of course, not everyone was impressed....

****

Finrod finished his first court with a sigh of relief. He felt suddenly drained and yearned to go to his rooms and rest, but it was only just going on noon and his parents would be expecting him to lunch with them. He gave Herendil and Rúmilion a wan smile as the three congregated in the antechamber.

"I am so glad that is over with," he said fervently.

"So am I," Rúmilion replied with his own look of relief. "I was so nervous, I was sure I would mix up the cases and embarrass myself and you."

"You couldn’t possibly have been as nervous as I was," Finrod countered.

"You both did very well," Herendil said, acting as their elder, though technically speaking, Findaráto was the oldest among them. "I know that his Majesty will be very pleased by the outcome of the cases."

"Do you think Aldurilmon will appeal?" Finrod asked.

Herendil shrugged. "Even if he does, I doubt your atar will overturn your decision. As simple as that case seemed on the surface, you were able to see the deeper ramifications of the negligence of those two masters. Silwindil certainly is an idiot but Aldurilmon was simply criminal in his actions."

"So I thought as well," Finrod said. "Well, it is almost noon. I must change before I meet my parents for lunch. My lords." He gave the two ellyn a bow which they returned before exiting the room with Amandur following behind him.

When he reached his rooms, he quickly changed, undoing his braids and brushing out his hair. He did not want to get into an argument with his atar over them, for he had not braided his hair until just before leaving for court, so neither of his parents knew about them. Or so he hoped.

****

"I heard some interesting things about your first court," Arafinwë said as the royal family sat together in the sitting room enjoying their noon meal.

Finrod nearly choked on his cream of asparagus soup. "Already?" he exclaimed after taking a sip of water. "They didn’t waste any time, did they?"

"They?" Arafinwë enquired.

"The ones who are only too eager to tell tales on me," Finrod retorted with a scowl. "So what exactly did you hear?"

For an answer, Arafinwë reached over and lifted one of Finrod’s golden locks, giving him a meaningful look. Finrod sighed. "You said I could conduct my court as I pleased," he said, glaring almost defiantly at his atar, this time determined not to give in. "That includes how I conduct myself as well. I know you don’t approve of them, but those braids are as much a symbol of my authority as the circlet I wore today, perhaps even more so, at least for me. I will not stop wearing them though I will refrain from doing so outside of court."

"Fair enough," Arafinwë said with a nod. "At any rate, you have matured enough I deem that your ammë and I will no longer dictate to you what you may or may not do, save where it concerns the Crown and you are bound as my vassal to obey."

Finrod nodded. "Thank you," he said, returning to his soup.

Arafinwë and Eärwen exchanged parental looks over their son’s head and silence reigned between them for a time. Only when the soup course was finished and the fish course — lightly seasoned fresh water trout — was brought in, did Finrod venture to ask a question, trying to sound diffident, but his parents could hear the underlying anxiety in his voice. "So, did they have anything else bad to say about me or how I adjudicated the cases?"

"Actually, what I heard was quite favorable," his atar said as he pulled apart a roll and slathered honey butter on it. "The first case especially impressed them. When I assigned it to you I thought it was a simple contracts dispute and that it would be easily adjudicated."

Finrod shrugged, feeling slightly mollified. "It was a simple case really. I’ve had to deal with ones that were far more complex and devious. I think Master Aldurilmon will most likely appeal the decision, though."

"If and when he does, I will examine the particulars of the case most carefully," Arafinwë assured him. "From what I’ve heard, though, I doubt I will overturn your decision."

"I feel sorry for the poor apprentice," Eärwen commented.

"As do I," Finrod averred, "which is why I plan to contact the guildmasters and ask them to check on Aldurilmon’s apprentices and journeymen, to see that they are being given proper instruction and encouragement to develop their special talents to the fullest."

"So, if you are feeling a little more confident, how would you like to have some more complex cases?" Arafinwë asked.

Finrod nodded. "But not too many at once," he pleaded. "I’m just getting used to this all over again."

"We’ll take it slow," his atar assured him. "Most of the cases will be relatively simple ones, but I will throw in the occasional harder case and see what you do with them. Was Herendil helpful?"

"Yes, he was," Finrod replied. "I didn’t have to consult him all that much but having him beside me made everything easier for me."

"Then I will ask him to continue acting as your aide for as long as you need him."

Finrod gave his atar a grateful smile and the conversation then drifted to other topics of interest.

****

Some days later, when Finrod joined his parents for breakfast, Arafinwë gave him a considering look. "I have received word that Master Aldurilmon has appealed your decision."

Finrod grimaced as he slathered strawberry jam onto a roll. "What about the other master, Silwindil? Is he contesting the ruling as well?"

"Not to my knowledge," Arafinwë replied, "but if Aldurilmon has appealed, he might also."

Finrod nodded but did not speak, not knowing what to say. His atar seemed to understand and gave him a brief smile. "I promise that, if for any reason I decide to overturn your decision, we will sit down together and I will explain my reasons for doing so. You will then have the opportunity to convince me otherwise before I make a final decree. Is that fair enough?"

"Thank you, Atto," Finrod said quietly, feeling somewhat appeased. He hoped that the other cases he had already adjudicated would not end up being appealed and his rulings overturned. It would mean that he wasn’t fit to be haryon of anything and that thought depressed him.

****

As it happened, not only did his atar uphold his original decision, but he ordered Aldurilmon to pay triple the amount into the royal treasury that was originally stipulated in Finrod’s decree. Silwindil, since he did not appeal the decision, only had to pay what had originally been ordered, much to that ellon’s relief.

"Aldurilmon is a fool and worse than a fool," Arafinwë told Finrod and Eärwen later that evening during dinner as he discussed the case with them. "I could not believe the duplicity of the ellon. You made the right decision, yonya," he said to Finrod with a warm smile. "If anything, you were too lenient, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing."

"I didn’t want to overstep too many bounds," Finrod explained.

"You didn’t, and I am very proud of you. Your solution was excellent and very similar to what I would have ruled had I taken the case myself."

Arafinwë’s words warmed Finrod to the very marrow of his being and he practically glowed with gratitude for his atar’s trust in him.

****

That good feeling lasted for some time and as he was presented with more and more complex cases, successfully adjudicating them, he became more and more confident and everyone remarked on how mature he was compared to how he had been when he had first returned to Tirion. Only one of his cases which was appealed was overturned. When his atar explained why Finrod had to agree that he had made an error.

"I guess I was thinking of how I would have ruled had the case been presented to me when I was King of Nargothrond," he said with a sigh after Arafinwë had given his explanation. "I forgot that things are done a little differently here in Eldamar."

"That’s all right, yonya," Arafinwë said, giving him a hug. "No real harm was done. And I have overturned your decision on a technicality about which you were unaware. I am surprised, though, that Herendil did not say anything to you about it. He would have known about this."

"Herendil wasn’t there that day," Finrod said. "Don’t you remember? His son’s wife was about to give birth."

"Ah yes. I’d forgotten about that," Arafinwë replied. "A son, I understand, named Vorondil after his uncle who died during the war. I’ve heard rumors that neither Selmacas nor his daughter were happy with Aldundil’s decision to name him thus."

Finrod shrugged. Nothing to do with him and he didn’t really care. His ammë had seen to it that an appropriate gift had been sent and he supposed he would have to attend the naming ceremony for Herendil’s sake, but he doubted he would ever have anything to do with the elfling after that.

****

Several months later, as the two were sitting in the king’s study going over some court cases, Arafinwë informed Finrod that Amarië was returning to Tirion. Finrod scowled. "Why now after all this time? I was just getting used to not having her around and spoiling things for me."

Arafinwë couldn’t help but laugh at the put-upon expression on his son’s face. "Yonya, Amarië has been away for years. I have delayed allowing her to return until I felt that you had matured enough emotionally to be able to handle anything she might do or say without getting into a screaming match."

Finrod found himself blushing. "Sorry, Atto," he said, staring at the floor.

"Finda, look at me."

Finrod sighed and looked up. Arafinwë leaned over and brushed a hand over his son’s hair. "Amarië loves you, and once you loved her. She was very angry when she was forbidden to join you in exile. When Ingwë returned to Vanyamar after failing to convince Ñolofinwë and me not to join with Fëanáro, he took Amarië with him, though she pleaded to stay."

"I know you were reluctant to leave Tirion," Finrod said quietly.

Arafinwë nodded, leaning back in his chair, "But I did leave, even though, in the end, I turned back. At any rate, Amarië returned to Tirion to help your ammë when I... well, when I was elsewhere."

Finrod gave his atar a puzzled look, having noticed the slight hesitation in Arafinwë’s voice, but decided not to pursue it. "You know, it’s strange," he said musingly. "Soon after my re-embodiment I began remembering much of my life when I was an elfling." He shrugged at his atar’s enquiring expression. "I suppose those memories were needed to help me relearn things like walking, talking, feeding myself, all the things elflings must learn to function in society."

Arafinwë nodded in understanding and Finrod continued. "Then memories of my life in Beleriand became predominant. Very little of my life as an adult here in Aman surfaced for a very long time. Even now there are blank spots and most seem to have to do with Amarië."

"Could you be suppressing those memories on purpose?" Arafinwë asked.

Finrod gave him a startled look. "On purpose? Why would I do that?" he protested. "Do you know how much of a struggle it’s been just to remember the smallest detail of my previous life, something as inconsequential as my favorite color or what style of cloak I prefer to wear? Do you know how I cringe at the thought of a memory suddenly showing up out of nowhere at the most inconvenient moment, causing me embarrassment? Why would I purposely suppress any memory?"

"I don’t know," Arafinwë replied quietly, "but I find it odd that it’s memories of you and Amarië together that you lack. It’s almost as if you’re afraid to acknowledge them for fear that you would have to go beyond simply remembering and act on those memories."

Finrod shook his head. "When I died, whatever relationship we had or could have had died with me. We were not bonded. She was free to seek another."

"But she didn’t," his atar rejoined. "She remained true to your love for one another no less than if you were bonded in truth. You were very close to marrying, you know," he added with a faint smile.

"How close?" Finrod asked, giving him a suspicious look.

Arafinwë chuckled. "Close enough that the invitations had already been sent," he replied. "Then the Trees died and nothing was as it was before. I remember Amarië saying that the wedding should go on regardless, but you were too busy preparing for our exodus and her parents, or rather, Amáriel tore up the betrothal contract, declaring it null and void and ordered Amarië to return to Vanyamar. When you offered no protest, I know Amarië was very hurt by your lack of concern. Since you were quite old enough to make your own decisions, your ammë and I decided not to intervene." He sighed, running a hand through his own golden locks. "Perhaps we should have; things might have turned out differently."

Finrod shook his head. "It is well that you didn’t or that she did not follow me to Beleriand," he said, his expression grim. "I do not think she would have survived the Helcaraxë, but even if she had, in the end, she would have either died or been enslaved. Few escaped from the destruction of Nargothrond from what I’ve been told."

"Do you think you would have gone with Beren had Amarië been there?" Arafinwë asked.

"More than likely," Finrod averred. "I hold my oaths sacred...."

"And is not the marriage vow equally sacred?" his atar retorted, though there was no condemnation in his voice.

"Of course, but...." Finrod closed his eyes and sighed. "Artanis once asked me why I did not seek to marry. For all intents and purposes, there was no returning to Eldamar and so there would never be an opportunity for me to marry Amarië. I might as well seek a spouse among the Exiles or the Sindar even as she had found one in Celeborn. Or so her argument went. Yet, I knew that that would not be my fate. I knew that my death lay somewhere before me. I did not know what fashion it would take but I knew that I must remain solitary and unencumbered by any conflicting oaths and loyalties, such as would have occurred had I a wife and children. Their grief at my death would have been too great and, as I said, their own fates would have been equally dark."

Silence stretched between the two ellyn for a time as Arafinwë contemplated his son’s words and Finrod lost himself in memories of his life in Beleriand. Finally, Arafinwë stirred and placed a hand on Finrod’s arm to get his attention. Finrod opened his eyes. "At any rate, Amarië will be returning soon. Try to be polite."

The drollness of his atar’s tone caused him to smile. "Aren’t I always?" he couldn’t help retorting, giving him as innocent a look as he could manage.

Arafinwë raised a disbelieving eyebrow and then they were both laughing.

****

The royal family was on hand to greet Amarië upon her arrival. Finrod watched with a pang as his parents embraced the elleth warmly and he realized that they loved her as their own daughter. His atar sending her away had to have been very hard on them both and he began to re-evaluate his own feelings towards her.

"Welcome back to Tirion, Amarië," he said, greeting her with a polite kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you," the elleth responded, returning his kiss with one equally polite. She gave him a measuring look as the two of them followed Arafinwë and Eärwen back inside the palace. "You seem different somehow."

"Do I?" he said with a smile. "In what way?"

She gave him an elegant shrug. "I am not sure. You seem more... mature."

He laughed somewhat mirthlessly. "I would hope so. I’ve had decades to grow up, as it were."

"Do you still sleep with a candle lit?" she asked.

Finrod shook his head, not entirely surprised that she would latch onto that one particular image. "Not for a very long time," he answered readily enough. "I outgrew the need eventually. So you see, I’m no longer the elfling you remember. I’ve even been taking up my duties as haryon, holding my own court and helping Atto with the running of the kingdom."

"I see," Amarië said. "No tree swinging, either?"

Finrod now stopped in surprise, wondering why she was bringing that up. Was she trying to upset him? "No, no tree swinging," he replied slowly. "Too busy helping Atto for such elflingish activities."

"I see," she repeated as they continued down the hall towards the royal apartments.

"See what?" Finrod asked, becoming somewhat annoyed but determined not to let her rile him.

Amarië just shrugged. "Nothing. It’s not important," she said, then changed the subject. "Everyone in Vanyamar asked after you, wanting to know how you were."

"I suppose I will eventually have to travel to Vanyamar and renew my relationships with my uncle and his family," he said with a shrug. "Atto was talking the other day about sending me there to sit beside Ingwë and see how he handles his court, but there’s been no set plans."

"Do you remember them?" Amarië asked as they entered the family sitting room, doffing her cloak, which Finrod took from her, handing it to one of the servants.

"Oh yes," he answered, "though for the most part there are no emotions attached to the memories. They’re just there. I may have to actually be in their presence for whatever feelings I had for them to surface. I really don’t know."

"Findaráto’s memories of his life here before are only just emerging," Arafinwë explained to Amarië as he handed her a glass of wine, gesturing for her to sit between him and Eärwen on the settee while Finrod took a seat opposite them. "Most of them don’t seem to hold any emotional content for him, at least not yet."

Finrod nodded when Amarië gave him a puzzled look. "It is as if I am seeing someone else’s life. There’s no emotional connection attached to the memory, at least not initially. Sometimes there is and it can be very overwhelming even if the memory itself is somewhat innocuous. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for why one memory surfaces but not another." He gave her a rueful look. "It can be rather frustrating."

Amarië nodded, "I see," was all she said, though Finrod wasn’t sure she was entirely convinced. She did not ask any more questions about him, though, turning instead to fill his parents in on all the news from Ingwë’s court. He listened politely as she described some trifling incident or other involving people who were only names to him, all the while wishing she had remained in Vanyamar so he wouldn’t have to deal with her.

****

"Would you like to attend court with me?" Finrod asked Amarië a few days later as the two were strolling through one of the gardens. It had been Finrod’s idea to do so, which surprised Amarië but she had agreed readily enough. "I will be presiding over some cases tomorrow."

"What sort of cases?" she asked.

"Nothing too complex," he answered. "Rather simple ones actually. They should present no real problems and I will probably wrap things up in an hour or so. It will be rather boring, I’m afraid, but I thought you might be interested in attending nonetheless."

"Thank you," she replied. "I would like that."

"I’ll have Lord Herendil come and escort you, then," he said and Amarië nodded.

****

As usual, Finrod appeared in court wearing warrior braids. By now everyone was used to seeing the prince sporting them and no one bothered to comment on them. Amarië, however, was not expecting to see him so attired and stifled a gasp when she saw him as he entered the audience chamber. Her expression became unreadable when those around her glanced her way, having noticed her reaction. She glanced about her as surreptitiously as she could to gauge the reactions of the others in the room. She noticed that most of the courtiers were of the younger generation, yet there were a number of older elves also in attendance. All of them had respectful looks as they listened to Rúmilion give the particulars of the first case. She gazed at Findaráto sitting with imperious ease upon his throne, nodding as Rúmilion finished his recitation.

As Findaráto had predicted, most of the cases were uncomplicated and the proceedings were actually rather dry and boring for the most part. Amarië stifled a yawn. She was surprised to see that the other courtiers were not looking at all bored. In fact, there seem to be an air of anticipation about them that defied understanding. It was as if they knew something she did not and she resented it somewhat. She watched Findaráto as he listened to the complainants and passed judgment on them. For the most part, he seemed to be handling the cases quite well, consulting with Lord Herendil a time or two about a particular point of law, and asking the complainant pointed questions that seemed to get to the heart of the matter. His judgments appeared to be fair and she could detect nothing of the elfling she remembered him being as he sat there, reminding her more of Arafinwë in his demeanor. She had difficulty reconciling her memories of him with what she saw before her.

Finally, the last case was being presented, much to her relief. Amarië listened to Rúmilion giving the particulars.

"This final case, Highness," Rúmilion said, looking at his notes, "involves a dispute concerning a horse."

Amarië saw Findaráto raise an eyebrow. "A horse?" he asked.

Rúmilion nodded. "Actually three horses, four if you count the foal."

"Go on," Findaráto said with a nod.

"It seems that a Lord Ornendil contracted with Lord Pelendur for one of the lord’s mare’s next foal. The mare in question is named Anarliltarë. According to Lord Ornendil, Lord Pelendur mentioned a lord of his acquaintance who had a stallion that he thought would suit."

"Anyone I know?" Findaráto asked, his expression curious.

"Lord Nambarauto," Rúmilion answered with a meaningful look.

Findaráto’s expression became unreadable. "I see," was all he said. "Please continue."

Rúmilion nodded, glancing at his notes again. "Arrangements were made and Lord Ornendil paid the stud fee as agreed. However, before Lord Nambarauto could deliver his stallion to Lord Pelendur, another stallion, owned by one Caliondo, got to the mare first."

"Ah...." Findaráto said, nodding. "Lord Pelendur, of course, is known to me, as is Lord Nambarauto, for they are both members of my atar’s court. I am surprised, though, that his Majesty assigned me this particular case. I would think Lord Nambarauto especially would have preferred the case to be heard by the king."

"In fact, Highness," Rúmilion said, "according to this petition, Lord Pelendur insisted that no favoritism be shown and that he would accept as judge whoever was assigned to the case. The others, apparently, had no objections."

Amarië saw Findaráto narrow his eyes. "Hmm... Curious." He turned to give Herendil a significant look and the ellon merely shrugged. "Very well, Rúmilion," he said, turning back to the younger ellon, "let us have the parties come forth."

Amarië watched with interest as four ellyn entered the audience chamber. She saw Pelendur and Nambarauto, whom she knew, but the other two were unknown to her. It was obvious which one had to be Caliondo, though, for he was dressed more simply than the others. She remembered that Rúmilion had not prefaced Caliondo’s name with an honorific and had to assume that he was not of the nobility. Of the four ellyn, he looked the most ill at ease, bowing somewhat clumsily compared to the easy grace with which the three lords made their obeisance to Findaráto.

"Lord Pelendur, Lord Nambarauto," Findaráto said in greeting. "And this must be Lord Ornendil and...."

"Caliondo, Highness," Rúmilion supplied when Findaráto hesitated. "His farm abuts Lord Pelendur’s estate."

"And what do you farm, Master Caliondo?" Findaráto asked.

"Straw and hay mostly, your Highness," the ellon answered. "I sell the bales to the estates."

"And you also own a horse?"

"A few, actually."

"Including a stallion."

Caliondo nodded.

Findaráto turned his attention to Lord Ornendil. "I understand you contracted with Lord Pelendur for a foal."

"Yes, Highness," the lord answered. "I have long admired Lord Pelendur’s breeding stock and wished to have one of the foals from his mare, Anarliltarë."

"Did you specify who should sire the foal?"

Lord Ornendil shook his head. "I was undecided. Lord Pelendur suggested Lord Nambarauto’s stallion, Lossenáro."

"Ah, yes," Findaráto said with a smile, looking at Nambarauto, whose expression was impassive, his posture stiff. "A fine stallion. I have at times thought to ask you for the loan of your steed myself. I think Lossenáro together with my mare, Ringanárë, would make for a good pairing."

Nambarauto’s demeanor loosened somewhat at Findaráto’s praise. "Perhaps something could be arranged," he muttered.

"Perhaps," Findaráto said with a nod. "At any rate, we were discussing Lord Ornendil’s desire for a foal out of Lord Pelendur’s mare. How far did the arrangements go?"

"I spoke with Lord Nambarauto," Pelendur said, "and he agreed and Lord Ornendil paid the stipulated stud fee."

Findaráto nodded. "But something happened before you could get the two horses together." He turned his attention to Caliondo. "Tell me, Master Caliondo. How is it that your horse...."

"Hórëa, Highness," the ellon supplied, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Findaráto raised an eyebrow. "Hórëa... an unusual name for any horse."

"But aptly named, Highness," Pelendur said with a scowl at Caliondo. "That horse is indeed impulsive, always managing to slip through fences and wreaking havoc. He’s somewhat uncontrollable in my opinion and should have been gelded."

"I was hoping to breed him," Caliondo said. "He has a good bloodline...."

"Bah!" Nambarauto exclaimed in disgust. "That horse is pure olompo, not a rocco at all."

"A pity we can’t bring the horses into court so we can judge for ourselves," Findaráto said with a faint smile as he leaned back in his seat. There were chuckles from the onlookers.

"Actually, Highness," Pelendur said with a smile, "I took the liberty of having one of our court illuminators draw pictures of the horses in question." He gestured to an elleth standing nearby who carried a satchel. She stepped forward, giving Findaráto a curtsey. "This is Arinyalcarë."

"Mistress," Findaráto said, gesturing for the elleth to approach. She handed over the satchel and stepped back. Findaráto opened it and drew out several stiff pieces of parchment, examining them carefully. Amarië wished she could see the pictures herself. She knew Nambarauto’s stallion but was unfamiliar with Pelendur’s mare or Caliondo’s horse. She noticed that several others around her also had expressions of curiosity on their faces. She saw Herendil lean over Findaráto’s shoulders to look at the drawings and the two held a whispered conversation for a moment before Findaráto turned his attention to the ellyn before him.

"I recognized Lossenáro, of course," he said. "Mistress Arinyalcarë has done an excellent job of depicting him so I must assume that these other drawings are also accurate in detail?"

"They are, Highness," Pelendur said and Nambarauto nodded.

Findaráto looked pointedly at Caliondo who also nodded, though somewhat reluctantly, looking rather unhappy about the whole affair.

"I can see why you would refer to Master Caliondo’s stallion as an olompo, Lord Nambarauto," Findaráto said as he glanced at the drawings. "He appears to be of common breeding, quite inferior to your own Lossenáro." He looked up at Caliondo. "Tell me, sir, how it is that your horse managed to find his way to Lord Pelendur’s estate."

Before the ellon could reply, Pelendur interjected. "The same way he always does, Highness. Hórëa is known among the other farmers and breeders for his propensity for crashing through hedgerows or finding the smallest gap in the fencing and taking advantage of it. I’ve found him wandering around my fields at least twice in the last six months and I have asked Master Caliondo to keep a tighter hold on the horse."

"Are these fences and hedgerows common to the properties?" Findaráto asked.

"Only one hedgerow is common to both properties," Pelendur stated. "I have made it a point to reinforce it with a stout fence."

"Then how did the horse get onto your estate?" Findaráto asked.

"Frankly, Highness, I have no idea," Pelendur said in disgust. "Neither the hedgerow nor the fence has any weak spots that I and my people could detect, yet somehow the blasted animal found its way into my fields and covered my mare." He glared at Caliondo as he said this; the ellon kept his eyes lowered.

"So, Master Caliondo, do you have an explanation for how your horse found his way onto Lord Pelendur’s estate?"

"None, Highness," Caliondo said. "I have made it a point to pasture him in a different part of the farm away from Lord Pelendur’s estate. I thought it was well fenced, but somehow...." He gave them a shrug.

Findaráto’s brow furrowed. "And there is no doubt that it was Master Caliondo’s stallion who mated with your mare, Lord Pelendur?"

"None, Highness," the lord said firmly. "One of my stablehands found him in the... er... act." He looked suddenly embarrassed and there was some mild tittering among the courtiers. Amarië saw Findaráto smile.

"So, what exactly is the dispute?" Findaráto asked.

Ornendil answered first. "When I learned about what happened I asked Lord Nambarauto for the return of the stud fee, since he obviously is unable to deliver his part of the bargain."

"That seems only fair," Findaráto said with a nod. "Yet, that cannot be the whole of it."

"No, Highness," Pelendur answered. "Lord Ornendil is demanding return of the fee for the foal, yet the agreement was that he would take possession of Anarliltarë’s next foal."

"It is not the foal I desired, though," Ornendil protested. "I wanted one whose bloodlines are superior to none. This foal when it is born will be of common stock, not worth much at all."

"Yet, you clearly stated that you wanted Anarliltarë’s next foal," Pelendur retorted. "It’s unfortunate that the foal will not have the bloodline you desired, but that is not my fault."

Before Ornendil could respond, Findaráto raised a hand. "Lord Nambarauto, I think you agree that you should return to Lord Ornendil the stud fee."

Nambarauto nodded. "I have no dispute about that," he said. "I am here only because Lord Pelendur insisted since I am a party to the transactions."

"Of course," Findaráto said as he turned to Ornendil. "Is there a written contract between you and Lord Pelendur?"

"No, Highness," the ellon answered. "We merely made an oral agreement."

"Did this oral agreement specify who would be the sire and was there any other witness to the making of the agreement?"

Now both Pelendur and Ornendil looked slightly abashed. "Actually, we did not think to have a witness," Pelendur confessed. "I have known Ornendil for a long time and I know him to be an honorable ellon."

"And I can say the same for Lord Pelendur," Ornendil said. "As for our agreement... I have to confess I do not recall specifying that the sire was to be a specific stallion."

"Then the agreement was just for you to take possession of the next foal Anarliltarë produced," Findaráto said and both lords nodded. "Then, I am afraid, Lord Ornendil, that you are bound by your oral agreement with Lord Pelendur to take possession of the foal when it is old enough to be separated from its mother whether it is a common olompo or a true rocco."

Amarië could see that Ornendil was not happy with the decision and could not blame him.

"However," Findaráto continued, "I do not think you need pay the fee that you and Lord Pelendur agreed upon."

"But...." Pelendur started to protest, but Findaráto held up a hand to still him. "That honor goes to Master Caliondo."

"What!?" the ellon exclaimed.

"And you will not be able to claim the stud fee from Lord Ornendil," Findaráto went on. "Indeed, you will also pay Lord Nambarauto half the stud fee agreed upon between him and Lord Ornendil. The other half will go to the royal treasury."

Amarië noticed Nambarauto’s expression of surprise, an expression that mutated into something that could be called respect and there was a satisfied smile on the ellon’s lips.

"But, it’s not my fault!" Caliondo protested. "I did everything I could...."

"Apparently not," Findaráto said coldly.

"You promised to get that misbegotten olompo gelded," Pelendur snarled.

"I was going to," Caliondo averred, "just as soon as the harvest ended."

"Which, as I recall, was two months ago," Findaráto said in a mild tone. "No, Master Caliondo. I’m afraid it won’t do. You will pay to Lord Pelendur the price of the foal and to Nambarauto half the stud fee as I said, as well as paying all court fees for the other parties. You will also have Hórëa gelded as you promised. Let’s see if he is still impulsive in his manner after that."

Even Amarië had to laugh.

"Case closed," Findaráto stated and stood up.

"The court of his Highness, Prince Findaráto, is now concluded. Let all depart in peace," Rúmilion announced as Findaráto stepped down and made his way, not to the antechamber, but to where Amarië was standing, giving her a smile.

"My lady," he said with a bow. "May I escort you?"

"Of course, my lord," Amarië said with proper decorum.

As they entered the antechamber with Herendil and Rúmilion following, Findaráto cast her an anxious look. "What did you think?" he asked quietly.

She hesitated slightly before answering. She was not sure in her own mind how to reconcile this proper prince standing before her with the overgrown elfling she had expected him to be. It had never occurred to her that he would actually mature as he had. Somehow the thought was unsettling and she ended up asking a question of her own. "Why the braids? They look quite barbaric."

Findaráto lifted one of the braids. "These are Sindarin warrior braids, and they are as much a symbol of my authority as this circlet on my head. More so, actually, for when I left Tirion I did so as the elder son of a younger prince of the House of Finwë, not as haryon to the Noldóran. But you haven’t answered my question."

She hesitated again before speaking, her tone carefully neutral. "I think you did well, all things considered."

Findaráto gave her a puzzled look. "All things considered?"

"Well, you’re still a Reborn. That hasn’t changed, has it?" Amarië replied.

For a moment, Findaráto just stared at her and she had trouble meeting his gaze for some reason. She realized that perhaps he had truly hoped for her praise and was about to amend her words when he spoke, his tone emotionless.

"No, that hasn’t changed," he said. Then he gave her a stiff bow and without another word left the room. Herendil gave her a disgusted look as he followed the prince out, leaving Amarië alone with Rúmilion, who scowled at her.

"You could have been nicer, you know," he said. "He doesn’t deserve to be treated so coldly."

"You have no right to speak to me in that manner," she retorted.

"Maybe not," the ellon averred, "but I still think you could have been nicer." He headed for the door, then stopped and gave her a jaundiced look. "You know, I can see why Findaráto is reluctant to marry you. He deserves better."

And then she was alone and left to wonder about many things.

****

Words are Quenya.

Anarliltarë: Sundancer [anar ‘sun’ + lilta- ‘dance’ + -rë ‘feminine agental suffix’].

Lossenáro: Snowfire.

Hórëa: Impulsive.

Ringanárë: Coldfire.

Olompo: Horse in general terms. The word is actually given as olombo in the Etymologies, derived from a base LOB- which Tolkien subsequently changed to LOP-, OLOP- [see ‘Addenda and Corrigenda to the Etymologies, Part One’, Vinyar Tengwar 45:28]. Note that the Quenya form olombo, although left unchanged, could not derive from the base LOP-.

Rocco: Horse, specifically defined as ‘a swift horse for riding’ [see Letters: 382, and Vinyar Tengwar 46:12].

Author’s Note: My thanks to Nina for helping me with the details of the case presented here. Finrod's ruling is consistent with real-world decisions in similar cases, i.e. the owner of the stallion who gets loose and co-opts another's mare pays for everything.