Picking Up The Pieces by Grundy  

Family Ties

The light was not as bright as she had expected.

Nor was her memory as crisp.

Where was she – and why?

It took some time before she concluded that she was alive.

That was good.

At least, she thought it was.

No, that wasn’t right.

Or was it?

If it was good, why had it taken so long before she’d agreed to it? She remembered that much.

And why did her brain feel so sluggish? This was worse than waking up after a night of too much wine. Everything felt heavy and wrong.

It took a considerable while longer lying still trying to remember anything before even her name came back to her.

Irissë. She was Irissë. And…

She bolted upright as swiftly as if she’d been stabbed, but properly.

Where was her husband? And her daughter?

There was nothing in the room other than her and the bed she’d woken up in. It was unnerving to be the only thing she could see that looked a natural color. Everything else was an off-putting monochrome.

She sprang out of bed – and immediately regretted it, as her legs weren’t stable enough to hold her yet. Not that she let that stop her. It didn’t matter if she wobbled alarmingly just so long as she kept moving.

Door. There was a door, she needed to get to it. Whatever was beyond it had to be better than this.

Unfortunately, it was not just her legs that weren’t steady yet. She was about as coordinated as a drunkard. Not that it had usually been her imbibing to the point of staggering around…

Instead of reaching the door, she crashed into the wall next to it. She’d have cursed a blue streak had her tongue only been up to it.

Peace, child!

She relaxed for a moment. She knew that voice.

But where did she know it from? Why was her head responding as if it was full of pudding instead of brain?

Be still, please, impetuous one? You will do yourself damage. Most are less eager to move, let alone to move at top speed.

“Esssë…”

She growled in frustration as the word came out a sibilant hiss, her mouth not cooperating properly with her on the harder consonant yet.

Irissë slid to the ground in a graceless heap that probably looked even more undignified than she felt, given that she had just realized she was naked as a newborn.

Newly returned, not newly born, my dear, Estë chuckled. If you would but grant yourself a bit longer to accustom yourself to being whole again, you will find that this body responds just as the one you remember did.

It would not. Not when she was the only one in it. She remembered that, too.

We cannot create a body for one who was not yet born. The fëa of one so young has no memory of its hroä to guide us, Estë explained gently. You and your mate must remedy that yourselves. But not before you are able to walk or speak!

The last was a command, one Irissë realized she had little chance of evading with any success. In her current state, any attempt to join with her husband would likely result in injury to one or both of them.

He has more sense than you do, Estë sniffed. Or perhaps more patience? He is only just now contemplating rising and moving to the morning room rather than the restoration room.

Irissë kept her reflexive response even more private than she would have had it been Artë saying that. She suspected that it would not be a good start to her second life to get in trouble for rudeness to one of the Valier. But she couldn’t keep herself entirely silent…

Others have found their return more upsetting, Estë assured her. Making rude sounds like a young one is not worth fussing over. Though if you can discover from your kinswoman precisely why it is called a raspberry I would be grateful. I cannot say I see any connection to the fruit.

Irissë didn’t either – in her youth, that particular noise had been known as a hoot, not a fruit.

She also wasn’t sure which kinswoman she was meant to be asking. Artë, maybe? Or perhaps it was something her husband’s people said? He’d had enough younger cousins…

It took two tries – and resting in between – but she eventually managed to get herself upright again. Her legs were still not as stable as they should have been, but at least they held. This time she also noticed that there had been clothing set out for her at the foot of the bed.

Fortunately, no one was present to see her blush.

Moving slower and more deliberately than before, she managed to reach the bed without any more disasters, and sat down while she tried to sort out the suddenly fiendish task of putting a simple tunic on.

It is easier when you are not trying to think of so much at once, Estë suggested tactfully.

Given how much was usually in her head, she would need to get back in the habit of controlling her body with lots of thoughts bouncing around. Might as well start as she meant to go on. And speaking of thoughts…

ARTË.

!!! was the instant response, followed by a wash of excitement and joy.

The way her head threatened to split in two indicated that attempting osanwë across an unknown distance might not have been the best idea. (Who knew that dying had so much in common with overindulging?) But she could think of no one better to catch her up on what was going on. What had been going on. All of it. She’d be around here somewhere. That part Irissë was certain of.

Irissë Nolofinwiel, Estë sighed in exasperation. Even your cousin Ingoldo waited a day or two before trying such tricks.

“Ingo follows rules,” she snorted, trying out speech with better success this time. Not that anyone told me there was a rule in the first place.

Most do not need to be told. You are setting a new standard for haste, Estë told her. Her tone was as gentle as ever, but Irissë got the distinct impression she’d managed to annoy the second most even-tempered Valië.

She wasn’t sure if that was an achievement or an embarrassment. Possibly both. Another thing to ask Artë about.

I think you may be ready to move on, dear one. But slowly this time? There is no need to rush. Your mate is not going anywhere without you.

Irissë obliged, doing a rough approximation of the walk she remembered costing her so much time and effort to learn for court occasions in Tirion. The door opened easily, which was just as well, for she felt even a small puppy could probably overpower her at the moment.

Slow and dignified was forgotten the second she caught sight of Eöl in the room beyond. It was as well he was sitting, for she flew at him so quickly she would have knocked him over if he were half as unsteady on his feet as she was on hers.

As it was, they ended up in a tight tangle of limbs, uncaring what Estë or her maiar might think of such a wild embrace.

“Beloved,” he murmured, kissing her with an urgency that revealed he had been as anxious about her as she was about him. “Are you well?”

“I think so,” she replied. “You?”

“Well enough now that I have seen you with waking eyes,” he assured her. “You were not as long as I was led to expect.”

“Patience was never my strong suit,” she shrugged.

“The little one…” he said hesitantly, his hand hovering over where their daughter should have been.

“Didn’t Estë explain it to you?” she asked.

He found the answer in her mind easily enough.

Not yet, my dears. Estë was firm. Neither of you are ready. It is necessary to rest and settle into your own bodies before you attempt to create a new one. Unless you wish the little one to be less strong than she should be?

How maddening!

“We can be sensible for a little while, my love,” Eöl whispered, his hand caressing her hair.

Particularly as she did not say we might not join, only that we should not beget…

She grinned. There were worse ways to ease back into living.

“I knew there was a reason I married you.”

­---

Anairon breathed a sigh of relief when he sighted the outskirts of Tirion. He’d dawdled as much as he’d dared on the way home, successfully drawing out the journey to be twice as long as it normally would have taken. But he’d also worried the entire time that he might encounter friends or other kin who would ask where Tinwë was.

He had fewer illusions about his capabilities than his best friend. While he treasured her confidence in him, he also knew himself to be hopeless at what she called ‘stretching the truth’.

In the highly unlikely case their situations had been reversed, Tindomiel would have had no difficulty whatsoever covering for him. She could stretch the truth to breaking point if the occasion called for it, and with a straight face that even Galadriel occasionally was taken in by. She called it a lingering benefit of California. It was a pity she couldn’t lend him that talent for a few days.

He’d been lucky so far, or possibly enjoyed a subtle assist from Queen Melian. She’d done similar things once or twice before, and she didn’t always say anything about it. The last time, they’d only found out well after. He would have to ask her later if she’d been helping, and work out a suitable gesture of thanks if she had. Maybe some flowers from a different region that might draw birds not normally found in Neldoreth?

What he wanted – what he really needed, in point of fact – was his brother. If he could explain everything to Aryo, once his older brother finished laughing himself silly, he’d help nudge Atto and Ammë into taking a trip to their older brother’s city without any particular reason given for why they should. He was good at things like that. And while he liked Itarillë well enough, Tindomiel was his favorite niece. (Entirely aside from being young enough to be ‘more interesting’ according to Aryo, without Tinwë, he would likely still be in Mandos along with their sister and oldest brother.)

He might be close enough now…

Anairon offered a silent prayer to any Vala that cared to look out for their adventurous niece and tried to narrow his thought to only one person.

Aryo?

His brother’s mind rippled with curiosity as to why he was coming back sooner than expected, and alone. It didn’t take him long to pick up that Anairon was hoping for him to save the day, even if he couldn’t tell why. He was intensely curious.

Anairon was far too wary of their cousin Galadriel and Uncle Ara, not to mention cousin Ingo and his children if they happened to be around, to share anything more than his need for assistance until they were face to face. (Gildor wouldn’t tell anyone, but the others definitely would.)

I’ll meet you in the stable block. Lucky for you there’s other mysteries to solve today, so neither Atto nor Uncle will be paying much attention.

That didn’t sound terribly encouraging to Anairon, but if it meant he might not have to explain himself or Tindomiel to his parents, he was perfectly happy to go with the flow as she would put it.

He had no trouble slipping into the palace complex the back way – something he’d gone eighty odd years of his life without needing to do, but been doing regularly since the week Tindomiel first arrived in Tirion. (She’d snuck out her first full day there, though perhaps it wasn’t accurate to call it ‘sneaking’ when she’d walked right out the front gates. She’d dragged him out three days later ‘to explore’. Both of them had been hauled back by the Inglorions to explain themselves to their parents.)

Then he made his way to the stable block.

“Whatever it is can’t be too bad, you’re in one piece. I don’t see so much as a bruise, and nothing’s on fire,” his brother greeted him in relief, only to sober at his expression. “Hey, seriously – you’re all right. Tinwë is too, yes?”

Aryo’s arms wrapped reassuringly around him.

“You’re worried stiff. Relax! Whatever she’s done this time can’t be as bad as the Fearsome Foursome as kids, I promise.”

She got married, Anarion offered quietly.

There was a split second in which his brother just blinked at him in surprise.

Then he burst out laughing.

“I think we told you both too many stories about Irissë,” he gasped, thumping Anairon’s back enthusiastically. “Oh, this is going to be brilliant!”

Anairon didn’t share that opinion, but he knew better than to say it.

“And honestly, you picked a fantastic moment to be hiding something like this. Artanis is trying to sneak off without being noticed, so of course everyone wants to know why and what she’s up to! Now that you’ve told me about this, I suspect we have inside information.”

His brother looked downright smug.

“Yes, that would make sense,” Anairon nodded. “If she’s trying to get to Gondolin, it will be easier to get everyone else to go.”

“Gondolin?” Aryo asked. “Why Gondolin?”

“It was closest,” Anarion explained hastily.

He hesitated. That wasn’t a very good reason, and they both knew it.

…also she married Lomion?

Aryo was afflicted by a sudden coughing fit. When he was able to speak again, he wheezed, “definitely too many Irissë stories.”

He frowned, and steered his little brother toward the main house.

Though that might also give Artanis other motives.

What he meant by that, Anairon wasn’t sure.

“Come on, let’s go join the fun.”

Anairon wasn’t sure how this was fun, but he didn’t have much choice but to go along unless he wanted to try to manage on his own, which he knew was a terrible plan.

Inside, he found their parents and aunt and uncle doing their sterling best to get Galadriel to slow down and give them information she didn’t wish to divulge.

Just go with it for now, Aryo advised. Follow my lead.

“Nerwen, what is the great hurry?” Aunt Eärwen asked. “Goodness, even Tinwë is calmer when she sets off on one of her expeditions!”

Happily, Galadriel didn’t so much as bat an eye at the sight of Anairon. He tried not to let his relief show. Between his brother and his cousin, he might just accomplish what he was meant to do.

“Emmë, really. You are all behaving as though I proposed another trip to Beleriand rather than a ramble through the woods.”

“Only because it’s such a sudden whim, darling,” Aunt Eärwen sighed. “And because I can’t see what brought it on. You said only yesterday you meant wait for Nerdanel and Moryo to return before going on to Alqualondë with them, and now you’re charging off westward all on your own.”

“Are you certain there’s nothing you wish to tell us, Artë?” his mother asked.

Anairon stopped to admire the tactics. Uncle Ara was letting his wife and law-sister do all the questioning – and probably listening quietly in case Galadriel let anything slip. He resolved to be careful in case they switched targets.

They won’t as long as you let her continue to make such a commotion, his brother advised silently. We just sit back and wait for the right moment.

Anairon leaned against his brother and watched their parents and aunt and uncle continue to not quite hinder Galadriel while asking her questions almost non-stop. He couldn’t help the conclusion that Tinwë would have done better.

It occurred to him that he was starting to think more like her to even notice that.

---

Arakano was enjoying himself immensely.

It had been fun enough already when he realized Artanis was trying to sneak out but woefully out of practice at it. With no elders around for the past couple Ages, she’d gotten used to being able to come and go as she pleased without any questions in Endorë.

Having Anairon come home with the reason why and helping him keep that secret while maneuvering his parents – and even better, Artë’s parents – into inviting themselves along for the trip seemed only fair payback, given as next youngest aside from Ambarussa, there had been frequent instances of him taking the fall for both her and his sister’s childhood misdeeds.

He was pleased to see that Anairon was watching and learning. He really liked having a little brother. It was a pleasant change to be the elder sibling. With any luck, his baby brother would be better able to keep up with Tinwë in the mischief stakes after this. Assuming, of course, she was still up for mischief as often.

His younger cousin, on the other hand, was quietly furious with him.

They were hunting. She had volunteered. Naturally, he had suspected she was trying to give the rest of the party the slip, so he immediately offered to help. Their parents had all been so enthusiastic she’d had no graceful way to decline. She’d been outmaneuvered and she knew it.

His mother had suggested adding Anairon to the party, but he’d managed to talk his way around that. (Hopefully swiftly enough that no one had noticed how close poor Airo was to outright panic at the thought, which he suspected was for once was less about lack of confidence than about not wanting to be around Artë while she was both hacked off and armed.) He’d gone with an excuse about making a competition of it, and his little brother not having enough experience for it to be a fair contest.

Granted, the pair of them hunting alone wasn’t without danger. Artë been proficient with a bow before the Exile. He suspected she’d gotten better since. From all accounts, the Sindar were excellent archers. Given how much time she’d spent among them, it would be odd indeed if she hadn’t picked up a thing or two. Perhaps Ammë had scented it and thought sending the baby of the family with them would be enough to prevent bloodshed.

He was trusting that kinslaying was still a line Artë wouldn’t cross unprovoked. A non-fatal arrow wouldn’t be too bad. Though if he did end up in Mandos again, at least he’d have a good story to tell Finno… not to mention bragging rights. She hadn’t actually killed Tyelko. It would be something of an achievement to be such an annoyance that she followed all the way through on him.

He wasn’t surprised that she waited until they were well away from everyone else before she confronted him. She no more wanted anyone overhearing then he did.

“All right, Arakano, what’s your angle?” she hissed. “It wasn’t Anairon who wanted everyone else along on this expedition.”

“Oh, it was, in point of fact,” he snickered, leaning against a tree and doing his best to look far more relaxed than he felt. “But he’s sensible enough to realize he’s not as devious as the rest of us, and definitely nowhere near the level of your darling granddaughter, so he asked for help. Something I notice you haven’t done.”

“I am not in need of assistance,” she sniffed disdainfully. “I also did not intend to have an entourage!”

She frowned, eyes narrowing as she considered him. He braced himself mentally.

“What are you up to?” she asked suspiciously.

“What are you up to?” he countered.

“I’ll come clean if you will,” he added after waiting a beat. “Especially since I suspect we’re not actually working against each other.”

Her raised eyebrow led him to reconsider – but very privately. He might be her older cousin, but she had a lot more lived time. He wasn’t going to hand her any more advantages than she already enjoyed.

“You first,” she said at last.

He briefly considered insisting that she promise to hold up her end, but decided that was a step too far. He didn’t actually want to get shot if he could avoid it.

“Lomion’s back,” he told her.

“Ah,” she said. “That makes sense.”

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Irissë’s back,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Nienna help us all,” he muttered. It made perfect sense now that he thought about it. But no one else would be expecting it. “And of course you’re the first one she told. What are the two of you up to now?”

“We’re not children anymore,” she reminded him sharply.

“No, you’re grown and used to doing as you please with no supervision, which means so much more scope for trouble,” he agreed cheerfully.

He didn’t try to dodge when she socked him in the arm.

“Ow!”

“That didn’t hurt.”

“It did, actually, but I’ll live.”

“Since Anairon was sent on to Tirion, I take it that means Tinu is waiting Gondolin with Maeglin?”

“I certainly hope so.”

His cousin frowned.

“Odd of her to send someone else with the news. Usually she prefers to see the reaction herself.” Her focus sharpened almost unnervingly, and Arakano made sure he had the other part well under wraps. “Is this another case of her bringing someone out of the Halls?”

“You’d have to ask Anairon that,” he replied. “Though I doubt he’ll admit to it if she did.”

“He won’t mean to,” she corrected with a sigh. “I’m not sure how he’s still so terrible at keeping things quiet after years hanging around Tinu…”

“He’s getting better,” Arakano protested indignantly. “And it’s not as if he had much practice. It was just him most of his childhood!”

“Not so much better that he’d have managed this without your help,” she pointed out equably. “But you are right, it was just him. Turukano’s an ass.”

It might have been coincidence that they startled a bird just then, though given how swiftly she brought it down, he thought it was probably for the best. He couldn’t help feeling that the hapless creature wasn’t who she really wanted to shoot.

“You’re cleaning, I assume?” she prompted him.

He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, of course I’ll do the dirty work, Artanis. Some things never change.”