In Darkness Bound by Fiondil

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Chapter 102: An Audience with Lord Manwë

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102: An Audience with Lord Manwë

Ingwion did not get far, only to the end of the hall before he was stopped, for someone stood in his path. He started to turn away, not interested in speaking with anyone and not really caring who it was that was blocking his path, but the person reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Not so fast, Little One," the person said, gently forcing Ingwion around to face him. The curses on Ingwion’s lips died aborning as he gazed into the amused eyes of Lord Oromë. "So like your atar when in a rage," the Vala said in a conversational tone. "Rather like me," he added with a chuckle, "which is probably one reason why I chose him to be the ambassador for your clan. One reason," he said somewhat darkly, "but not the most important reason. Do you know what that reason was?"

Ingwion could only shake his head mutely. Oromë nodded as if he’d expected such a response. "I chose your atar over all the others of the Minyai, as you were wont to call yourselves, because he always listened. Whatever his personal feelings about anything or anyone, he never failed to listen. He might not agree with what he was hearing, but he took the time to listen."

"Your point?" Ingwion managed to find his voice, refusing to give an inch even to a Vala. Why was the Lord of Forests even here, he wondered, and why would he bother speaking to him?

If Lord Oromë was upset by Ingwion’s obvious rudeness, he did not show it. Instead, he took the ellon by the elbow. "Let me show you something," he said, pulling Ingwion down another hallway leading to bedrooms. Ingwion did not resist, curiosity keeping him from pulling away. They went down three doors and without knocking, Oromë opened the door and led the ellon inside where Ingwion found himself staring at a body lying on the bed. He gasped when he recognized Tamurilon’s atar, Cemendil. The ellon lay there, his eyes half-closed, apparently sleeping, but Ingwion wasn’t sure. He glanced silently up at the Vala, whose own expression was one of deepest compassion. Ingwion found he had to look away.

"He’s not asleep," Oromë said suddenly, speaking softly, "but neither is he awake. He is in a halfway state between the two. He has to be tended to as if he were a babe."

"Can you help him?" Ingwion asked, staring at the ellon in horror. What had Cemendil experienced that had sent him into such a state? Olwë’s description of the Kinslaying, as he had called it, had been vague and in some ways uninformative.

"That remains to be seen," Oromë replied.

Ingwion gave him a sharp look. "Meaning what?"

Oromë’s own expression never changed, but something in his stance alerted Ingwion that perhaps he had crossed some boundary he shouldn’t have with that question. "Meaning, that it remains to be seen," the Vala reiterated. "We will do what we can, for all of them."

"What do you mean, all of them?" Ingwion demanded as he stared at Cemendil. "You mean, others are like... like that?"

"To one degree or another," the Vala said with a nod. "Irmo and Estë are even now making plans to have them brought to Lórien for healing. Cemendil will be their first patient."

Ingwion stood there staring at Cemendil who simply lay there. If it weren’t for the fact that he could see the Elf’s shallow breaths he would have thought him dead, so still did he lie. "You will help him, and others, but not me," he finally said, his tone neutral.

Oromë placed a finger on Ingwion’s chin and forced him to look at the Vala. "Cemendil needs help, but you do not," he said firmly. "You have all your faculties and you have people to guide you and aid you in your quest. You have all you need. Do not be so selfish."

Ingwion flinched at the reprimand and could not meet the Vala’s eyes. After a moment, Oromë released him. "Your atar would be disappointed in your recent behavior," he said.

Ingwion felt himself blushing and then paling, feeling much as he had as an elfling caught in some mischief. He refused to look up or comment, not wishing to defend himself, knowing that there was no real defense.

"Why does the Elder King want to see me now?" he asked instead. "What’s the point? He’s not going to help, you just said so."

"I said nothing of the sort, child," Oromë retorted. "I said, you do not need help. That doesn’t mean it will not be given."

"But...."

"Help comes in many forms, child," the Vala continued, "some more obvious than others. Lord Manwë will not help you by telling you where your atar is, but he will help you to help yourself, if you are willing to put aside your animosity long enough to listen."

"Why now?" Ingwion could not help asking. "Why now and not before?"

"All must happen in its proper order, my son," Oromë said with a smile even as he faded from view.

Ingwion bit back a curse at that very unhelpful statement but before he could decide what to do next the door opened.

"Oh! I didn’t know anyone was here."

Ingwion turned to see a startled Lirulin whose eyes widened when she recognized him.

"Oh, Ingwion," the elleth exclaimed and went to embrace him. "I’m so glad to see you. Intarion said you were here but I’ve been busy watching over Cemendil so I couldn’t come and greet you as I ought. I only stepped out for a moment to freshen up. Have you heard? The Valar have granted us an audience."

"Us?" Ingwion asked.

Lirulin nodded as she stepped away from him to go to the bed and begin pulling down the covers and urging Cemendil to rise. Ingwion found himself on the other side of the bed helping her to bring the ellon to a sitting position with his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. She smiled at him gratefully.

"Yes," she said even as she knelt to put a pair of houseboots on the ellon’s feet. "Intarion and I also asked for an audience along with King Olwë."

"And what do you seek from the Valar?" Ingwion asked as he gently encouraged Cemendil to stand. The ellon, though his eyes were still half-closed, was biddable enough, which made it easier.

Lirulin stood up, brushing down the front of her skirt. "There are things we need to tell the Valar," was all she said. "Will you help me with him, please? He’s biddable enough but I can’t handle him all by myself."

"Why don’t you have help?"

"Why, you’re here, aren’t you?" Lirulin retorted in surprise and Ingwion couldn’t argue with that so he took Cemendil’s right elbow and with low words encouraged the ellon to walk. Lirulin went and opened the door and then together they led the quiescent ellon towards the front hallway where they found everyone else waiting. Ingwion said nothing, not even bothering to look anyone in the eye, pretending to concentrate on leading Cemendil. Intarion started to take his place but Ingwion shook his head.

"I’ve got him, Cousin," he said softly.

Intarion gave his wife an enquiring look and she merely nodded, so he stepped back. Olwë said nothing, merely gesturing for them to lead the way. Outside, a contingent of guards, made up of Noldor and Teleri, fell into line on either side of their small group, acting as escort. There was no sign of any Maiar. The journey into Valmar was done in silence and soon they were passing the gates leading to the mansion of the Elder King and his Spouse where one of the Maiar, who introduced herself as Sáyandilmë of the People of Varda, awaited them, politely dismissing the honor guard and leading their party inside, down the central hall and into a small receiving room in shades of blue and gold where they found Lord Manwë, Lady Varda, Lord Irmo, Lady Estë, and Lady Yavanna.

Olwë gave them his obeisance and the others followed, though Ingwion and Lirulin, still dealing with Cemendil, only gave them cursory bows. Yavanna came over to take Cemendil into her embrace, crooning softly as if to an elfling, her expression one of concern and sorrow. Lord Manwë gestured for them all to join him and the other Valar and Olwë led the way, sitting in the chair proffered to him by Sáyandilmë. Ingwion was the last to sit, refusing to look at any of the Valar. Yavanna brought the quiescent Cemendil and sat him in a chair next to her, while Estë and Irmo took turns examining him, speaking low. Manwë, meanwhile, addressed the other Elves.

"I know most of you are here with questions and concerns and some of you are here reluctantly," he gave Ingwion a sympathetic glance which the ellon did not see, for he kept his eyes on his lap, "but let us first deal with Cemendil before we address the reasons why you have come." He turned expectantly to Irmo, who straightened from his examination of the Vanya.

"He does not appear to be physically damaged, though there is evidence of a head trauma," the Lord of Lórien reported, eyeing Olwë who nodded and answered Irmo’s unspoken question.

"When we found him, he was lying over... over my son." Olwë paused, the bleakness in his voice causing Ingwion to look up, momentarily brought out of his own thoughts. Lindarion and Eärwen looked equally bleak. Olwë licked his lips and Sáyandilmë offered him a goblet of water, which he accepted. After taking a few sips he continued his narrative. "We thought at first that he was dead for he had a head wound and there was blood all around, but when we examined him more closely we saw that he still lived, though he was definitely cuivië-lancassë."

"Can you help him?" Lindarion asked suddenly, his expression both anxious and concerned.

Irmo smiled. "Yes, we can," he answered. "I will have him taken to Lórien and we will endeavor to bring him back to himself. It will take time, but I have every hope of success."

A sense of relief passed over the Elves. Ingwion could feel the tension leaving, only just aware that he had been as anxious for good news on Cemendil’s behalf as the others. "I am glad to hear that, lord," he said. "Tam will be devastated when he learns what happened and will no doubt blame himself for his atar’s condition."

"No doubt," Irmo replied with a faint knowing smile.

Ingwion wasn’t sure how to interpret that statement but before he could respond, Lord Manwë spoke again. "Perhaps Lirulin should accompany you, Irmo. I’m sure Cemendil would welcome her presence."

"He doesn’t know I’m there, lord," Lirulin protested, "and besides, I do not wish to be parted from my husband. We’re to go on to Vanyamar from here. I wish to see my family again."

"Do not be so sure of that, my daughter," Irmo said. "On some level Cemendil is aware of what is happening around him and knows you are there caring for him. But as for going to Vanyamar...." He paused, giving Manwë a significant look.

Ingwion spoke then, realizing that Lirulin had not heard his story. "Vanyamar is closed, Liri," he said to the elleth. "The gates are closed and no one can get in or out."

Lirulin paled, looking at them all in disbelief. "But why?"

"It’s too long a tale to tell right now," Ingwion replied, sighing deeply and feeling suddenly weary, as if all the burdens of the world were on his shoulders. "Suffice to say that my uncle rules in Vanyamar and the city is closed. Not even the farmers can enter to sell their produce. I don’t think the gates will remain closed long, for eventually Ingoldo will have to open them to let the farmers in, for the city will run out of food soon enough."

Lirulin just sat there shaking her head. "Atto and Ammë?"

"Are well and safe," Manwë assured her. "Irmo, however, is correct. You should go to Lórien with Cemendil. He will want someone familiar with him on the journey."

Intarion leaned over and wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders, giving her a gentle kiss. "Lord Manwë is correct. I would feel better knowing you were safe and away from all this madness and Cemendil seems to fare better when you are with him. He tends to get agitated otherwise."

Lirulin sighed, clearly unhappy but realizing that Intarion spoke the truth. "Very well, I will go with you to Lórien, my lord," she said.

Irmo nodded and Estë gave the elleth a smile. Yavanna, who had remained silent throughout the discussion now spoke up. "And I will join you, at least for a time, for I have other duties, but I will see one of my own brought safely to your care first, Brother."

Irmo nodded. "Perhaps you should take Cemendil and Lirulin now and see them readied for the journey. We will be leaving directly after this audience."

Yavanna nodded and stood, gently bringing Cemendil to his feet, while Lirulin clung to Intarion. Everyone else pretended not to notice them as they kissed each other and murmured loving words to one another. Then Lirulin stepped away and gave Lord Manwë her curtsey before joining Lady Yavanna in leading Cemendil away. Estë gave them a smile. "I’ll see to the arrangements," she said and followed the others out, leaving Olwë, Lindarion, Eärwen, Intarion, Ingwion, Valandur and Eccaldamos alone with the remaining Valar.

Manwë gave them all a sympathetic look. "I know this has been a difficult time for all of you, and I and my fellow Valar grieve for your losses, Olwë, yours and your people."

"And that is something I wish to discuss with you, lord," Olwë said.

Manwë nodded, gesturing for the ellon to continue. Olwë glanced at his two children, took a deep breath, and spoke. "I wish to speak of reparation."

"From the Noldor," Manwë said with a nod, but Olwë shook his head.

"No, lord, from the Valar."

Ingwion looked on in amazement, not sure he had heard the King of the Teleri correctly. He noticed Valandur and Eccaldamos looking equally nonplused though Intarion did not and Ingwion realized his cousin knew about this already. He glanced at the Valar, but if any of them were shocked or upset by Olwë’s words, they gave no sign; their faces may as well have been carved in stone and their eyes gave nothing away.

Almost at once there was a flurry of incandescent multi-colored lights so bright that all the Elves threw up their hands to cover their eyes, crying out in surprise and shock. Then the light slowly faded. Ingwion blinked back tears and when his vision cleared he saw all the Valar there, including Lady Estë and Lady Yavanna. All the Valar looked upon Olwë with grave expressions; Lord Ulmo, especially looked pained, and Ingwion was glad that their regard was not centered on him. He stole a glance at the Lindaran and marveled at Olwë’s composure, for he was looking directly at Lord Manwë as if they were the only ones in the room.

"And why do you feel that the Valar owe you reparation, Olwë?" Lord Manwë asked quietly.

Olwë’s eyes flicked briefly towards Lord Ulmo standing between Lady Nienna and Lord Oromë, then he turned his attention back to Lord Manwë. "You allowed the Noldor to do what they did," the Teler answered softly.

"We allowed nothing, child," Manwë replied. "We simply refused to get involved."

Olwë stood up and took a step towards the Elder King, his hands clenched at his sides, his expression one of growing fury. "Not get involved?" he hissed. "Innocents were killed for no reason and you just sat here and watched?"

"It was not like that, child," Ulmo said in a conciliatory tone, but before he could continue, Olwë rounded on him.

"My son lies buried at the bottom of the ocean!" he nearly screamed. "He lies in your realm rotting away to become food for your fish, Ulmo, and all because you couldn’t get involved? No, my lords and ladies, you do not get off so easily." He gave them all a scathing look. "There is a reckoning due and I mean to collect. My people called upon you — I called upon you — to help us in our hour of need against an unprovoked attack and you just sat here and watched us get slaughtered."

"Your people were not entirely helpless, Olwë," Lord Námo said in the pained silence which followed Olwë’s speech. "Your people were the first to kill."

Olwë gave the Vala a stunned look. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Fëanáro attacked our ships...."

"And your sailors threw them overboard," Námo stated with a slight quirk of amusement on his lips. "Unlike your people, most Noldor do not know how to swim and they drowned."

"They were the aggressors, though," Lindarion spoke up from where he sat next to Eärwen, the two holding each other’s hands for comfort. "We only defended ourselves."

"Perhaps," Námo averred with a nod, "but the point is, your people were not as helpless against the Noldor as you insist."

"Be that as it may," Olwë said with a dismissive gesture, "the point is, by your own admission, you broke faith with me and my people when you refused to come to our aid."

"How do you figure that?" Manwë asked.

Olwë pointed to Lord Oromë. "He lured us to these shores with promises of safety and peace. We followed him, believing in his words that if we came to Valinor, if we abandoned our first home, that you would see to it that no harm would ever befall us. When harm threatened, and you did nothing to succor us, you broke the covenant between us and now I demand reparation."

"What of the Noldor?" Aulë asked. "Are you not demanding reparation from them?"

"Oh, fear not, my lord," Olwë replied. "Arafinwë and I made a preliminary agreement concerning what the Noldor will do to repay for what was done. Eärwen, acting as Noldotári, and I have finalized the contract of reparation and it only needs Arafinwë’s signature to ratify it. Which brings me to the other reason we are here: where is Arafinwë? What have you done with my son-in-law? And now I understand from Ingwion that Ingwë is also missing. Two kings of Eldamar either missing or unavailable. Tell me, my Lord Manwë, am I to be next? Will the Eldar be deprived of all their kings? Is this how you plan to punish us all for what Fëanáro did by refusing to give up the Silmarils to you?"

The silence that followed was deafening and Ingwion sat there, staring at Olwë in amazement, wondering how the Teler had the nerve to utter such an outrageous statement and not expect to be blasted out of existence for his impertinence. Olwë, however, seemed calm and unafraid as he stood there waiting for an answer. When it came, it was from an unexpected source.

"Arafinwë is with me," Lady Nienna said.

"With you, lady?" Olwë asked in surprise.

"Yes, with me," Nienna replied. "He has needed some time for reflection before he takes up the mantle of kingship that is his right and destiny to do. Do not be too concerned for him. He is well and will be returning to you soon enough."

"In the meantime," Manwë said, "this talk of reparation will need to be put aside for now, Olwë. No, child, I am not dismissing you or your plea, but other things must take precedence. Finding Ingwë, for one."

"But you know where he is," Ingwion said. "You know, but you refuse to help...."

"As we refused to help Olwë," Manwë said, not unkindly. "You accuse us of being indifferent to your plight, but truly we are not. Yet, are we to do all for you? Are you not able to do what needs to be done without us holding your hands? Too long, I fear, have the Eldar looked upon us as a child looks upon his parents, believing that all answers come from them and they will solve every problem the child faces. But as you who are parents yourself know, at some point the child has to learn to stand on his own and solve his own problems. This is the situation here. We Valar have other concerns that involve not just Valinor but all of Arda and I think it is about time for you to take up the mantle of responsibility and find solutions for yourselves."

"Then you will not help us find Ingwë," Olwë said, making it more a statement than a question.

"No, we will not," Manwë said firmly, "but we will offer you advice, if you are willing to listen."

"What of my demands of reparation, though?" Olwë asked.

"They will be addressed in due course, child," Manwë assured him. "For the moment, though, I think it best you return to Alqualondë. Your people need your strong presence. When certain matters have been dealt with I will send word to you and we will talk about what the Valar owe the Lindar."

Olwë did not look too happy about it, but he nodded in acquiescence. "I will hold you to that, my lord," he said, sitting down. Eärwen leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Manwë then turned to Ingwion with a sad smile. "I am sorry for your anger towards us, my son," he said. "I hope you will understand that we do not refuse to help out of malice but out of a sense that this is something you must do for yourself. You do not need us to solve all your problems, else how can you expect to grow and mature as you should?"

Ingwion licked is lips and swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Please, lord, just tell me that my atar is alive."

"He is, child, I promise," Manwë answered, "and he is, for the moment, unharmed. Now, if you are willing to listen to some advice?" Ingwion nodded and Manwë smiled. "Then if you will heed me, I say that you should remain here in Eldamas until one comes who can give you the help you need."

"Who....?"

"I will not say, but I promise you, you will know when the time comes."

"And this, also, Ingwion," Lord Oromë suddenly said, "when the time is right, I will join you in your hunt for Ingwë, but only if you follow Lord Manwë’s advice and remain in Eldamas until help comes."

"Yet, for how long?" Ingwion asked, perplexed.

"For as long as it is necessary," Oromë replied.

"The decision is yours, child," Manwë said. "Stay and be assured of help when you need it most, or go your own way and perhaps fail in your quest."

Ingwion glanced at Valandur and Eccaldamos, but neither of them gave him any indication of what they thought he should do. He knew the decision was his and his alone to make. He turned to Oromë. "You will help me?"

"I will join you," Oromë replied.

Ingwion was not sure if that actually answered his question, but he decided not to press the issue. He nodded instead. "Then I will remain in Eldamas and wait," he said.

There was a sigh that came from nowhere and everywhere and Ingwion wondered if it were a sigh of relief or something else as he sat there wondering who was to come and what kind of help he would get.

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Minyai: ‘The First Ones’; ancient name for the first Elvish clan, later known as the Vanyar.

Cuivië-lancassë: Literally, ‘On the brink of life (of a perilous situation in which one is likely to fall into death)’.