Flame of Gondolin, novella: A Christmas Carol

Winter, 1 TA
Imladris

"Oh I wish I had a river so long, I would teach my feet to fly … I wish I had a river I could skate away on …"

Anárië let her voice fade into a hum while she continued slowly running the cloth over the blade of her sword, but hum she still did, and both the cubs – currently in her care while papa was away – were listening on the rug in front of the fireplace.

She smiled when she looked at them, letting her humming grow louder and seeing the way they stretched in quiet content, obviously forgetting about the trauma they had undergone before Glorfindel had found them. They were also becoming very well acquainted with the both of them and seemed generally happy to do as they were told, obeying their new masters. Anárië was especially pleased with the way Akela was responding to the commands she’d slowly begun teaching them. He would certainly make a fine companion once he was fully grown.

Her attention went from the Flame of Gondolin to Alana who suddenly whined and thumped her tiny tail against the carpet.

"What is it? Is the song too sad for you?" the elleth teased the two little wolves.

They huffed and made chuffing noses, oblivious to the pretty picture they presented.

Anárië chuckled: "You, my little friends, are getting pickier by the moment."

Alana whined some more, and Akela joined her in her endeavours, which resulted in the elleth sighing while she put the cloth away and reached for the scabbard.

"Let’s see if I can find something that you won’t complain over."

The pups rolled over and happily started wrestling, which made her roll her eyes, but she did think for a moment, remembering years back in the days of Himring when it had seemed that Morgoth Bauglir was keeping pelting them with more snow than they could stomach, to serve some of his purposes.

The cubs stopped and looked at her again as she started humming the melody, Alana halfway on her brother, their attention caught once more.

Anárië smiled, never forming words, thinking back to times when she had done this same exercise with Elrond and Elros.

Akela tried to follow along with something between a bark and a howl, but Alana bit his ear, resulting in a yelp, and a quick intervention from their mistress.

"Honestly, you two are worse than a couple of brawling Orcs sometimes," she complained, "No more songs for you today, you’ve had quite enough excitement as it is."

She wrestled them apart and set them down again after making sure they wouldn’t immediately go at each other’s throats once more. Then she put her sword away and paused to look through the window at the flurry of white flakes being pelted down.

No trouble with no snow here: Imladris had been getting more than enough for the past couple of days, and if the weather were to hold, she was fairly sure they would be cut-off from the world for a little bit, though of course not too many would complain, seeing as it would keep them from the wearisome task of trudging in and out of the Valley on errands.

But her thoughts weren’t really on those unfortunates, because that morning, Glorfindel had been bidden to ride out and meet with a small group coming from Lothlórien for the escort of their princess. Anárië knew Rímallen, Celebrían’s twin and also a good friend of Elrond’s was with the group, so it was imperative that they bring her here as soon as possible, and safely.

But it did not mean she didn’t worry about her husband either.

A knock to the door woke her from her ruminations and she rose to answer it.

Berien’s smiling face met her once she opened: "I thought I’d find you in here. Erestor seems to think you’re in need of company while your lord husband is delivering the package entrusted into his care."

Anárië arched an eyebrow and let her friend in, amused: "The Lady Rímallen is considered a package?"

"She is when Erestor is speaking," Berien replied with a light shake of her head, greeting the two cubs and then taking a seat, "You would think that everyone here spoke his jargon."

"I think he still has a hard time remembering we’re not at war anymore, just like the rest of us," Anárië replied with a sigh, lowering herself down as well.

Berien said nothing to that and watched the flames for a little while in silence.

Her friend broke it first: "How is Lachuí holding up?"

The raven-haired elleth sighed: "As is to be expected. He fights me every single day, whenever he can, on whatever topic meets his fancy."

Anárië bit her lip slightly; she felt more than a little responsible for her friend’s situation, given she had been the one to cut off Lachuí’s leg in Mordor, and she sympathized with Berien over what she must be going through.

Berien seemed to read her thoughts, for she smiled: "Don’t even start down that road of thought, Anná; we are both alive and well, and the quarrels keep things interesting."

"No offense, but I don’t really believe you on that last bit," she countered.

Berien shook her head: "Alright, maybe not, but at the very least there is never a dull moment."

Anárië decided not to press the subject and instead changed it for something she considered far more pleasant: "Have you decided on a date yet?"

The wedding, which in her opinion would probably be the one of a millennia since it had taken her two friends almost that long, if not longer, to get to this point at all, was a topic which frequently popped up in conversations.

Berien propped her chin with her hand: "He’s being stubborn, and more than a little gloomy about the ‘predicament’. I can’t seem to make him understand it doesn’t matter."

Anárië felt like strangling Lachuí, but then she also understood him, more than a lot of others, she supposed.

"Do you want me to speak to him?"

Her friend smiled, and shook her head: "No, thank you, but I will tell you should this change, I promise."

They left it at that and spoke of other things afterwards, right until a bell suddenly tolled out in the courtyard, making them both glance up, startled.

Anárië counted the pealing sound; she was on her feet and on the way to the door as soon as they stopped at number two, the agreed signal that Glorfindel had been spotted and was returning.

She momentarily forgot all about Berien, and the two cubs, and didn’t see the amused, knowing expression on her friend’s face, since she hastened off.

She reached the main courtyard just as the horses of the riding party could be seen through the snow, snorting, steaming, their riders hooded and cloaked to keep some of nature’s elements at bay.

Glorfindel had had the foresight to bring his stallion as close to the archways as possible, and dismounted in haste, making his way under actual cover. He was shaking himself off when Anárië reached him.

Thankful beyond words, unable to express or even understand her own fear, she smiled when he acknowledged her presence, and gave his hand a squeeze when he reached for her.

"We came back just in the nick of the time," he said before she could ask, "The paths are completely closed behind us now. I think the party from Lórien will have to wait these storms out here."

"Like it as not," came another voice by his side from under the heavy fold of a long cloak, and princess Rímallen tossed the hood back, shaking her hair out and smiling, "But you won’t hear us complaining while we have a roof over our heads and good food to go with it."

"And what about good company?" Elrond spoke from the side, eliciting a happy squeal from the elleth and then a lot of random commentary and half-finished sentences.

Glorfindel and Anárië exchanged a look and withdrew, leaving Erestor to deal with the newcomers (since he would honestly have an apoplectic attack if anyone else tried to meddle with a system he was currently establishing, or trying to establish). By the time they reached their own quarters, Glorfindel was already dripping.

"Stay right here," Anárië ordered him, slipping into the room quickly and throwing down one of the bigger rugs before his feet, along with a basket to put his wet clothes in.

"Any other orders?" he asked, chuckling at the look she sent him before she disappeared to let the cubs out while he wriggled out of the wet garments and switched them for the dry ones she had also prepared.

By the time he detached himself from the clothes – and the wolves – Anárië had water boiling and the tea leaves in, ready to pour him out a warm cup when he took a seat. Akela and Alana contented themselves with lying at the foot of the bed.

Glorfindel sighed softly and held the cup in his hands for a moment without any other thought save this basic comfort. Anárië watched him, noting the exhaustion in his face.

"You should go to bed early tonight, if you want to be of any use tomorrow," she commented after a moment.

He opened his eyes again and glanced at her: "You may be on to something there, considering I might just have to spend some time in the snow with Rímallen and Celebrían. Unless you care to join us?"

Anárië pulled a face: "Would that I could, but I’ve already promised to help Erestor with some of the rotations for the soldiers."

Glorfindel whistled: "Not my choice of past-time, I’ll grant you that."

She rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder: "I’m not doing it for fun!"

He laughed, which elicited the same response from her, and then he seemed to remember something: "Where did I put it?"

"Put what?"

"Half a moment," he told her, getting up and leaving the warm room, taking Alana with him as he did so, because the cub seemed bent on following at his heels wherever he chose to go at home.

Anárië was content to wait, but she never expected what he brought with him: six niphrendil flowers.

Her breath caught as he carefully transferred them onto the palm of her hand, the white blossoms unfurling their petal-leaves as they dried off.

She swallowed and looked up, her eyes swimming with tears and memories: "Do you remember, Glorfindel?"

He shifted closer, his hand resting just behind her so that when she sat back, his arm was there for her to lean on: "I remember. They seemed happiest in your mother’s garden."

"And under the willows, down by the lake," she murmured, carefully caressing the petals with one finger, "I never thought I’d see them again in my lifetime."

"They grow in abundance in Lothlórien now," her husband said, "it seems the passing of the Shadow lifted the oppression from that fair land as well, enriching its number."

She sniffed softly, reminiscing.

Glorfindel dared to lean in, pressing a kiss to her cheek: "Day six."

She gave a weak laugh: "A good day; a good number. Did you ask one of the Wardens to pick them?"

Her husband watched her as she took a small bowl of water and let the niphrendil float on the surface: "No, actually, it was the lady Rímallen who helped me, bringing the flowers safely across the mountains."

Anárië put the bowl down a safe distance from the fire and then sat back by Glorfindel’s side.

"Will you sing?" he asked her softly after a couple of moments.

Her eyes met his: "What would you like me to sing?"

But she knew the answer to her own question, knew what he wanted; and his eyes told her that he knew she knew it, too.

"Please."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Edelweiss, edelweiss, every morning you greet me; small and white, clear and bright, you look happy to meet me …"

The flames continued to crackle softly before them, the niphrendils swirling gently in their bowl, and the wolf pups listening in content while Glorfindel leaned back against the bed and let his wife’s voice take him back in time to a place where everything seemed easier, when the Elves were still considered young, and where niphrendil grew in splendour.

He gently drew the singer to him, letting her rest against his chest; and when she did not pull away, he considered the day a great success.

***

Note: the song Anárië sings in the beginning is River, written by Joni Mitchell in 1971. And the ending is, of course, Edelweiss, from the 1959 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical 'The Sound of Music'. From the beginning of this saga, I have associated the song (and flower) with niphrendil, and it is a sort of hymn to the Exiles. The first time I use it is back in chapter eight of book one.