In Darkness Bound by Fiondil

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Chapter 101: The Lindaran in Valmar

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101: The Lindaran in Valmar

"Eärwen!" Arafinwë exclaimed in surprise, rising from his seat. "Eärwen’s in Valmar? Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I think I just did," Manwë said mildly. "Sit down, Pityahuan. Where do you think you’re going?"

"To Valmar, of course," Arafinwë said with an impatient gesture. "I’ve listened to enough of your story. I’m not staying here any longer than I have to. Ingwë is missing, Olwë is not in Alqualondë but is in Valmar with Eärwen. Why are they in Valmar?" he stopped to ask himself, frowning slightly, then shook his head. "And Ingwion obviously needs help."

"Help that you plan to give?" Námo asked.

"Yes," Arafinwë said, not backing down. "I think I know where Ingoldo has hidden Ingwë, though I know you’ve been careful not to reveal his location. I am not sure I approve of your... your indifference."

Several eyebrows went up at that announcement. "Sit down, Arafinwë," Manwë ordered again. "You rushing off will solve nothing. For one thing, Eärwen is not in Valmar."

"But...."

"She is not in Valmar, child," Manwë reiterated in a kindly voice. "The events I am relating have already happened. Eärwen has since returned to Tirion while Olwë and Lindarion are now back in Alqualondë. As to why they were in Valmar, that is what I was about to tell you when you decided you’d heard enough."

The reprimand, mildly spoken though it was, was nonetheless evident and Arafinwë found himself blushing and muttering an apology as he resumed his seat, not looking at any of the Valar, who were watching him with indulgent expressions on their faces.

"Where do you think Ingoldo has hidden Ingwë?" Námo asked before Manwë could continue his narrative.

Arafinwë looked up, giving the Valar a sly look, which surprised them, though they were careful to keep their own expressions neutral. "That would be telling, wouldn’t it?"

"I’m not sure I approve of your attitude, Pityahuan," Manwë said.

Arafinwë merely shrugged. "In truth, I’m not really sure and I need to know what, if anything, Ingwion has learned concerning Ingwë’s whereabouts before I say."

"Fair enough," Manwë said with a nod. "Then let me continue with my... story." The slight pause and the knowing look the Elder King gave the ellon told Arafinwë that he might have been ruder than he should have been.

"Sorry," he said meekly enough. "I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I guess I just want to get on my way. Why can’t you tell me all this on the way?"

"Because it is much more comfortable here," Námo said with a quirk of his lips.

"And you need to rest a bit before you leave," Nienna added.

"But...."

"No, Arafinwë," Aulë said firmly. "You don’t realize how traumatic the last few hours have been for you." He casually lifted up the collar that had been there all along, lying on the table next to the Vala. Arafinwë paled at the sight of it, a hand unconsciously reaching towards his throat as if he expected to still feel the collar around his neck. When he realized what he was doing, he pushed his hand away, grimacing. Aulë nodded knowingly, placing the collar back down. "You see, child. You need a bit of time to recover. Trust us when we say that you will arrive in Valmar in good time. What Manwë speaks of now happened only very recently."

"Yes, lord," Arafinwë said with a sigh.

"Cheer up, child," Nienna said with a smile. "You’ll be reunited with your Eärwen soon, but I think you know you have something important to do before that."

Arafinwë nodded.

"And that is what all this has been about," Manwë said, gesturing towards the collar. When Arafinwë gave him a puzzled look, the Elder King smiled. "I told you that you are my apprentice rather than my thrall. All this time I have been training you, though you probably did not realize it."

"Training me for what, lord?"

"To become the Noldóran, of course," Manwë replied, "but even more than that, to become our representative among the Eldar, at least for a time."

"I don’t understand," Arafinwë said in obvious confusion.

"Ingwë is missing," Manwë stated, "and whether you like it or not, as Noldóran, you stand next in precedence even over Olwë. Until Ingwë is restored to you, you are our spokesman."

"But Ingwion is Ingwë’s heir," Arafinwë pointed out. "He..."

"He no longer trusts us," Námo interrupted, "and, in truth, he has a different role to play in all this. Your task, or at least one of your tasks, besides helping Ingwion find his atar, is to help Ingwion trust again."

"Well, from what you’ve told me, lord, he has every reason not to trust any of you after what you did to him, nor do I blame him for it."

"Nor do we," Manwë said. "We regret what happened, but it was necessary. Ingwion needs to learn a different type of trust than what he has known before, a level of trust that you yourself have only recently learned, wouldn’t you agree?"

Arafinwë thought over Manwë’s words, recalling the events of the recent past and the lessons he had learned at the feet of the Valar without realizing he was learning them and nodded slowly. "Yes, I think I’m beginning to understand."

The Valar smiled at him. "And that is part of what we want from you, Pityahuan," Manwë said. "We need your help even as Ingwion does."

Arafinwë straightened in his seat and looked directly at Manwë, his demeanor reminiscent of Ingwë whenever he came before the Valar, not in a subservient manner but as an equal in the eyes of the Valar and there were looks of approval all around. "Perhaps, then, lord, you should finish your... story," he gave them a sly grin and they all chuckled.

"So where were we?" Manwë asked rhetorically. "Ah, yes... Ingwion and the others meeting Olwë in Valmar. Well, as it happened, Olwë and his son and daughter had only arrived the day before Ingwion bringing one other with them....

****

Ingwion stared at the Teleri in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Why are you here? And what do you mean, ‘It’s about time I got here’? Do you know what I’ve been going through? Have you any... any idea what’s b-been happening? Do you know wh-what we had to do to... to get here?"

Even as the questions tumbled out of his mouth, Ingwion could sense the hysteria rising within him, yet he could not seem to stop and he suddenly felt out of control of everything. Olwë must have sensed what was happening with him, for, without a word, he took a few steps forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Ingwion’s diatribe stuttered to a halt and to his utter horror he found himself weeping uncontrollably even as Olwë gently rocked him. He vaguely heard Valandur and Eccaldamos greet Eärwen, whom they both knew, and she in turn was introducing the two ellyn to her atar and brother. In the meantime, Ingwion got himself under control and Olwë released him, giving him a gentle look.

"Explanations on both sides will come later," he said. "What you need right now, hinya, is a hot bath and a warm meal. I would say to rest as well, but I doubt you will, so let Lindarion take you in hand and Intarion will see to your friends. We’ll meet up again after you’ve all bathed."

Ingwion started to protest but Lindarion stepped forward and took his elbow. "Come on, Ingwion. Atar is right. You stink."

Ingwion raised an eyebrow at the Lindaran’s heir. "You would too if you’d been trapped in a barn for hours while being hunted down."

Now it was Lindarion’s turn to look surprised. "Well, you’ll have to tell us all about it, but not until after you’ve had your bath." With that, he gave Olwë a nod and dragged Ingwion away while Olwë invited Valandur and Eccaldamos to follow Intarion and Eärwen stated she would tell the cooks to hold their dinner for another hour.

Lindarion refused to answer any of Ingwion’s questions as the two walked down the hallway towards the suite of apartments reserved for the Telerin royal family, saying only that it would be better to wait until they foregathered with the others. "No sense repeating ourselves," he said as he ushered Ingwion into his own set of rooms, calling out to his body servants to draw the bath. "We’re both of a size so I think you can borrow some of my clothes if you don’t have anything clean," he told Ingwion, who confessed that he had packed very lightly and had no other clothes with him.

"We’ll see about getting you and your friends new clothes while you’re here," Lindarion said. "I imagine there’s a tailor in the town that can whip up some tunics and trews and things in the time you’re here."

Ingwion did not comment, but secretly thought it was a waste of time as he didn’t think he would be in Eldamas long enough for it, but he put such thoughts aside as he gratefully slid into the tub of hot water, giving a sigh of relief. Lindarion smiled knowingly as he handed him some soap and a bit of cloth. "I’ll leave you to your bath while I look over my wardrobe and find something suitable for you to wear." Then he left and Ingwion was alone for the first time since leaving Tirion.

About an hour later, freshly scrubbed and wearing a sea-green tunic sewn with pearls, Ingwion followed Lindarion to the main dining hall where he found Valandur and Eccaldamos also looking fresh and clean in borrowed tunics. Eärwen was there and the two properly greeted one another.

"Who’s minding Tirion while you’re here?" he asked her.

"Anairë and Amarië are more than capable," Eärwen said with a light laugh.

Olwë entered just then and he smiled at the younger ellon. "Feeling better?" he asked solicitously.

Ingwion blushed slightly. "Sorry about earlier...."

"No need to apologize, Ingwion," Olwë said. "You’ve had a harrowing time of it, from the little Valandur and Eccaldamos told me earlier. But, let us save our tales until after we’ve eaten." He gestured to them all to take seats and the servants began bringing in dishes, so for a time, there was little or no talking among them. Ingwion, when he smelled the soup — butternut squash with nutmeg — as it was placed before him, suddenly realized how hungry he was and applied himself diligently to the meal. The soup was followed by roasted duck and then a salmon pie with the crust shaped like a fish. Inside, the salmon was cut into pieces and mixed with herbs and spices. Each of them were given their own individual pie. This was followed by a marzipan torte and gingerbread. Only when the dainties had been placed on the table, tea and wine provided and the servants dismissed, did Olwë then speak of what was on all their minds.

"Perhaps, Ingwion, you could begin and tell us what happened after you left Tirion and then I will tell you why we are here."

Ingwion nodded, nibbling on a piece of gingerbread. "I didn’t take the road to Valmar as I usually would but traveled across country to approach Vanyamar from the east and...."

****

The telling was long, for Olwë asked a number of questions for clarification, but eventually, Ingwion wound up his narrative with a description of their flight from Laurefassë’s farm. "And then we came here," he ended, giving the Lindaran a piercing look, "where we found you apparently waiting for us. Now that you know our story, perhaps you would tell us yours."

Olwë did not respond immediately, his eyes distant as he thought over what he had learned. "And no sign of Arafinwë in all of this," he muttered half to himself.

Ingwion gave him a startled look, his heart skipping a beat. "What about Arafinwë?"

Olwë gave him a considering look and blinked, as if just realizing what he had said and what it would mean to this ellon sitting next to him. "You don’t know, do you?"

"Know what?" Ingwion nearly shouted in frustration. Valandur, sitting on his left, placed a warning hand on his arm and Ingwion subsided, muttering an apology. However, it was not Olwë who answered him but Eärwen.

"Arafinwë returned, Ingwion," she said softly.

He and the other Vanyar gasped in surprise. "Returned?" Ingwion repeated. "And Findaráto?" He looked at Intarion who shook his head, looking sorrowful. And then, something occurred to Ingwion, something he had ignored while he was busy eating and telling his tale. "Intarion, where is Lirulin?"

"Ah," Olwë said before Intarion could speak, "and there is where my tale comes in, in a way."

Ingwion gave the Lindaran a puzzled look and then nodded, picking up his goblet of wine. "Then why don’t you tell us."

Olwë nodded, giving a slight grimace. "It is not an easy tale to tell," he said. "I’m afraid I have rather unpleasant news." He then launched into a telling of the fateful meeting between him and Fëanáro and what followed afterwards. Ingwion, Valandur and Eccaldamos sat in shocked silence as they listened to Olwë describe the Kinslaying and Arafinwë’s eventual return. At that point, Eärwen picked up the tale, describing her husband’s decision to go to Valmar to speak with the Valar.

"That was some time ago and I have heard nothing from him," she said at the end. "One of Lord Manwë’s Maiar came and told me that the Elder King was keeping Arafinwë with him for a time. The Maia said something about Arafinwë being Lord Manwë’s apprentice. When Atar stopped at Tirion on his way here, I decided to join him and Lindarion to speak to the Valar about my husband. I would like to know just how long they intend to keep him. He’s needed in Tirion."

Ingwion frowned. "They made no mention of Arafinwë when I was in Ilmarin seeking their help to find Atar."

"Probably because you never asked," Olwë said with a snort. "I’ve had few dealings with them myself but I do recall that they never volunteer information they are not willing to impart unless we ask the right questions."

Ingwion snorted, in total agreement with that observation. "So, you have come to Valmar," he said, speaking to Olwë, "but not, I imagine, for Arafinwë’s sake entirely."

Olwë shook his head. "No. Lindarion and I came for a different purpose and Eärwen and Intarion merely joined us."

"And that brings me to my original question about Lirulin," Ingwion said, now looking at Intarion. "Did she remain in Tirion?"

"No," Intarion answered. "She’s here looking after Cemendil."

"Cemendil? Tam’s atar? Why?" He gave them a confused look.

Olwë sighed and to Ingwion’s utter shock, he saw tears in the Teler’s eyes, tears that had not been there when he had spoken of the depredations visited upon Alqualondë by Fëanáro and the Noldor. "I did not tell you about Falmaron," he said softly, the pain evident in his eyes.

"What about Falmaron?" Intarion whispered, dreading what he feared he would hear.

"He is dead, Ingwion," Olwë replied. "He was killed by the Noldor."

Ingwion sat there, feeling suddenly sick, shaking his head in disbelief. He remembered Falmaron from when he and Findaráto had been in Alqualondë.. He recalled how the ellon had proudly showed off the sloop that he had built himself, taking Ingwion and Findaráto sailing and teaching Ingwion how to fish. It just seemed impossible that someone who had been so alive and full of energy could now be....

He had no conscious memory of leaving the table only to find himself outside in the garden trying to breathe. It seemed as if he couldn’t draw enough air in his lungs and the ever present darkness seemed even darker than before. Then he found himself weeping, as he had not wept when listening to Olwë’s description of the sack of Alqualondë. Somehow, Falmaron’s death made it all the more real, all the more personal, for him and the enormity of what had happened finally impinged upon his soul. He felt someone approach and take him into their arms and hold him through his weeping. He vaguely realized it was Olwë and a fury rose in him — a fury that he quickly squashed — wishing it were his atar holding him instead. When the tears began to abate, Olwë simply led him back inside where the others were still sitting at the table, looks of concern on their faces. Ingwion started muttering an apology, but Eärwen rose and went to him, giving him a kiss and a hug.

"Don’t apologize," she said softly. "There is naught for which you need to apologize."

Olwë indicated that they should resume their seats and when they were settled once again and Ingwion was sipping on his wine, the Lindaran spoke. "Falmaron was with Cemendil when Fëanáro attacked our city," he explained to the Vanyar. "They were out collecting samples for Cemendil’s study. I do not know what happened, but they were apparently caught in the fray and Falmaron was killed. Cemendil escaped injury save for a knock on the head, but he has not fully recovered. He is still in a state of shock and must be fed and tended to as if a babe. When I realized that our healers had done all that they could for him, I decided to bring him to Lord Irmo and Lady Estë for healing. That is why you find us here. We have managed to secure an audience with the Valar and are just waiting for the summons."

"Poor Cemendil," Valandur said. "I hope he can be healed."

"Poor Tam, you mean," Ingwion retorted. "If he ever learns what happened, he’ll never forgive himself for dragging his atar into this mess. If it hadn’t been for us, Cemendil would be safe and well."

"And it is our hope that he will be once again," Olwë said firmly. "In the meantime, what are your plans? Where will you begin your search for Ingwë?"

"It seems logical that he would have stopped here at the townhouse after his audience with the Valar, even if he did not stay," Valandur answered. "Certainly he would have had to come here for his horse."

Olwë nodded. "A reasonable assumption. I cannot advise you on this, for I know nothing about it. My one concern is to see Cemendil safely taken cared for and then I must return to Alqualondë."

"There is something though that is puzzling," Eärwen said then. Ingwion gave her an enquiring look and the elleth explained. "From speaking with the servants who oversee the upkeep of the townhouse, I’ve learned that Valmar was closed to the Elves for a time. Indeed, it has only just been reopened."

"Closed?" Ingwion asked in surprise and he noticed the looks of concern on the faces of Valandur and Eccaldamos at the news.

Olwë nodded. "Yes. Apparently, shortly after Ingwë and Indis came through here, every Elf in Valmar was asked to leave and all four gates were shut."

"But Arafinwë...."

"Would have found the city closed to him when he arrived," Eärwen said with a nod, "but apparently he, though no one else, was able to enter Valmar. The only thing is, none of the people of Eldamas ever saw him. They did not even know he had come until I began making enquiries. Yet, Lord Manwë’s Maia assured me that he had arrived safely in Ilmarin and was staying there for a time."

"So you mean to travel to Ilmarin in the hope of seeing Arafinwë?" Ingwion asked.

Eärwen shook her head and there was a look of frustration in her mien. "No. When I made my enquiries, even going into Valmar to at least speak with one of Lord Manwë’s Maiar, I was told in no uncertain terms that travel to Ilmarin would not be allowed. If I wished to speak with Lord Manwë it would be here, so I will go with Atar when he has his own audience for poor Cemendil."

"I am beginning to detect a pattern," Valandur said suddenly and all eyes turned to him in curiosity. His smile was somewhat wry. "Ingwion is refused help, you are forbidden to travel to Ilmarin, Valmar was closed to the Eldar for a time. It seems to me that the Valar are... hiding."

Several eyebrows went up. "Hiding?" Olwë repeated in disbelief.

"Well, perhaps not hiding," Valandur amended, "but certainly they are distancing themselves from us, at least for the moment. I think the loss of the Trees has hit them harder than we suspect and what has happened since then has probably not helped."

Ingwion nodded, looking grim. "Lord Manwë told me that the Valar were done with attempting to intervene in our lives. They saw what happened with Fëanáro and now they want nothing to do with us. Lord Manwë said that the Valar had other concerns."

"Does that mean our bringing Cemendil here has been in vain?" Lindarion asked with concern. "I cannot imagine the Valar, especially Lady Yavanna whose servant Cemendil is, being so callous as to refuse to help him to recover himself."

Before anyone could respond, there was the sudden scent of asëa aranion and ëarrossë in the air and then the Maia Olórin was in their midst. He gave them a polite bow, a smile quirking in the corners of his mouth when none of the Elves stood to greet him as was customary. Ingwion just glared at him and then pointedly looked away to take a sip of his wine. The Maia addressed Olwë.

"Greetings, Olwë of Alqualondë. I am Olórin of the People of Manwë. My lord bids me to tell you that he will see you now... all of you." He looked directly at Ingwion when he said this.

Olwë nodded. "Allow us a few moments to freshen ourselves up," he said as he stood. "Eärwen, will you go to Lirulin and let her know so we can get Cemendil ready and then...."

"No."

Olwë stopped and looked at Ingwion sitting there. The ellon was pale but a fire burned deep in his eyes, a fire that disturbed Olwë though he could not say why. "Ingwion?"

"No," Ingwion repeated. "The audience is for you, Olwë. I will not be attending."

"Lord Manwë..." began Olórin but Ingwion jumped up, cutting him off.

"Lord Manwë washed his hands of me!" he shouted. "Well, I wash my hands of him and all the Valar."

"Hinya...." Olwë started to say but Ingwion would not listen, fury taking him. He turned to Olwë as he continued speaking. "I begged him, on my knees, I begged him for help and he refused." Then he turned his attention back to the Maia, giving him a scathing look. "Well, if Lord Manwë wants to speak with me, he can come here but I will not go to him."

"You would refuse a summons by the Elder King?" Olórin asked quietly, his expression unreadable to any of the Elves.

Ingwion snarled an oath. "I will be damned if I ever crawl back to him again!" he shouted, pushing away from Valandur, who tried in vain to calm him. He stormed out of the room, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence and several concerned people.

****

Asëa aranion: Athelas.

Eärrossë: ‘Dew of the Sea’, Rosemary, which is the literal meaning of the name.