The Journey Home

It was still the 320th year of the Sun, and the journey back to the Avari realm felt longer than Arinyanénar had anticipated. The weight of the promise he had made to Maedhros gnawed at his thoughts, but the joy of his love for Aistalë steadied his resolve. He and Aistalë had left Himring, leaving behind the sounds of celebration from their wedding feast. Together, they traveled across Beleriand, heading toward the realm that Arinyanénar had not seen for so long.

As they reached the borders of Estolad, Arinyanénar's heart swelled with a deep sense of nostalgia. He remembered his first visit there, the land where men had settled and where his uncle, Finrod, had once guided them. Though he and Aistalë had only stopped for a brief time, it was enough for Arinyanénar to once again see Baran, the son of Bëor and the leader of the House of Bëor. The two exchanged greetings, and Baran welcomed them with warmth.

"We will rest here for a day before continuing," Arinyanénar said, his voice filled with appreciation.

Baran nodded, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "You are always welcome in our land, Arinyanénar."

That evening, they shared stories of the realms they had visited and the people they had met. Baran, ever the storyteller, spoke of the days when the House of Bëor had first arrived in Beleriand, and how they had been led by the wisdom of Finrod. Arinyanénar listened intently, both comforted and awed by the history of the lands his family had shaped.

The next morning, after a simple but heartfelt meal, Arinyanénar and Aistalë set out again, continuing their journey toward the Avari realm. The landscape changed slowly, the green hills giving way to darker forests as they neared their destination. Soon, the familiar scent of the trees and the air rich with the magic of their homeland wrapped around them.

When they reached the gates of the Avari realm, the guards immediately recognized Arinyanénar. Word spread quickly, and soon a small crowd gathered near the entrance, cheering as their prince returned. They knew him well—his horse Lauriënénar with its golden mane, the gleaming sword Amanarótar, and his shining helmet Cálta Arinyanénarwa were all unmistakable signs of his lineage.

Arinyanénar's heart swelled at the sight of his people welcoming him home. But it was Aistalë who drew all eyes, the daughter of Maedhros now at his side, her copper-red hair gleaming in the sunlight. She was a stranger to them, and yet, Arinyanénar knew his people would accept her with open arms. She was, after all, to be his wife.

The moment he stepped from his horse, the crowd cheered again, but it was his parents, Anorien and Galadriel, who stood waiting for him at the gates, their faces filled with emotion.

"Arinyanénar!" Galadriel's voice was full of joy and relief as she rushed to her son, pulling him into an embrace.

Anorien stood proudly beside her, his gaze lingering on Aistalë. "You have returned," he said with a smile. "And you bring a guest."

Arinyanénar chuckled, though his heart raced with anticipation. "Mother, Father, this is Aistalë, daughter of Maedhros of the House of Fëanor. We are to be married."

Aistalë, with her customary grace, stepped forward and offered a respectful bow. "It is an honor to meet you both again," she said, her voice calm and clear, though there was a flicker of nervousness in her eyes.

Galadriel gave her a long, assessing look, her gaze sharp and calculating. She did not speak at once, but Arinyanénar could see that his mother was weighing the situation carefully. Anorien, however, was quick to offer a warm smile.

"Welcome to our home," he said, his voice warm and welcoming, despite the lingering tension in his wife's eyes. "It is good to see our son so happy."

After the initial greetings, the family made their way deeper into the Avari realm. The people of the realm showered their prince with adoration, but their faces were filled with curiosity as they observed the unfamiliar face of Aistalë. Despite their initial wonder, they seemed to accept her quickly, for she was, after all, to be their future Princess.

That evening, after a day of catching up with family and friends, Arinyanénar and Aistalë stood together beneath the stars. The soft rustling of the trees seemed to hum with the magic of the place, and for a moment, Arinyanénar felt at peace.

"You look at me as though you are still unsure," Aistalë said quietly, turning toward him. "This place... It is so different from Himring."

Arinyanénar reached out and took her hand, his fingers tracing the lines of her palm. "It is," he said softly. "But it is my home. And now, it will be yours as well."

Aistalë smiled faintly. "I will learn to love it, just as I have learned to love you."

Arinyanénar kissed her gently, his heart full. It had not been an easy road to bring her here, but it had been worth it. Together, they would face whatever challenges came their way. He had made his promise to Maedhros, and he would honor it. But for now, he was home, and he had everything he needed.

As the night deepened and the stars above glimmered like diamonds, Arinyanénar knew that the journey he had begun so many years ago was only just beginning. With Aistalë by his side, there was no challenge too great to overcome, no obstacle they could not face together.