In Darkness Bound by Fiondil

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Chapter 119: Return to Vanyamar

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119: Return to Vanyamar

Once Ingoldo and the other prisoners, along with Lemenyon’s body, were on their way back to Vanyamar under suitable guard, Ingwë had everyone else gathered in the dining room where Marilliën and her fellow Maiar were setting out dishes. Most of them protested that they were not hungry, but the Maiar would not take ‘no’ for an answer and after much coddling and wheedling and down-right scolding, got even the most reluctant of the Elves to ‘at least try a little something’. It wasn’t long, before they were all digging into the simple yet bountiful meal as if they hadn’t eaten in a week.

Ingwë cast an amused smile at Arafinwë sitting on the other side of Ingwion, who had joined them at the last minute. The Noldóran smiled back, then gave Ingwë an enquiring look, his eyes flicking briefly to Ingwion sitting between them, and Ingwë gave him a slight shrug, for he was not sure what to make of his son. Ingwion had appeared with Manveru in tow. He’d been bathed and somehow a fresh tunic and trews had been found for him. Glancing at Manveru, Ingwë suspected that the Maia had simply plucked the clothes from Ingwion’s closet in Vanyamar, for certainly no one else was wearing clean clothes. As if the Maia had read his mind, Manveru gave Ingwë a brief nod and a knowing smile, then stood patiently behind Ingwion’s chair and saw that the prince ate.

Oddly enough, Ingwion seemed to be the only one with an appetite, for he ate without any protestation. Ingwë was just grateful that his son seemed to have recovered from his fit, but he felt something like ice settle in the pit of his stomach when Ingwion looked up from his soup with a puzzled frown, glanced around the room as if mentally taking an inventory of who was and who was not there, then turn to Ingwë and asked, "Atto, where’s Ingil? Shouldn’t he be here?"

There were smothered gasps from several of the diners and Ingwë stiffened in shock and dismay, glancing up at the Maia standing behind Ingwion’s chair. The Maia’s own expression was hard to read but Ingwë suspected that he was already in communication with his masters. In the meantime, Ingwion was waiting patiently for his answer. Ingwë reached out and put a hand to the back of his son’s head and leaned over to kiss his brow.

"Your brother wasn’t feeling up to eating," he said quietly. "We’ll look in on him later, all right?"

Ingwion nodded, apparently satisfied with his answer, and when Ingwë released him, the ellon calmly resumed eating. Ingwë stared at his son in sorrow and instinctively brushed a hand through the ellon’s hair, as if to reassure himself that his son was truly there. He glanced up to see Arafinwë watching him and saw his own concern mirrored in his nephew’s eyes. Manveru touched him on the shoulder and when he looked up at the Maia, he felt something stir within his mind. It took him a moment to realize the Maia was attempting to speak to him in ósanwë and he allowed his mind to remain open to the Maia’s words.

*He does not remember Ingalaurë’s death,* the Maia bespoke him.

*How can he not remember?* Ingwë asked in surprise.

He could almost feel the Maia’s mental shrug, for Manveru never moved. *His mind cannot accept the loss and so he has blocked it out of his conscious memory. For him, Ingalaurë still lives.*

Ingwë nodded his understanding and Manveru removed his hand from the Vanya’s shoulder and bent down to speak softly to Ingwion, apparently enticing the ellon to take some more venison pie, for Ingwion nodded enthusiastically as he reached for the dish.

Elindis, sitting on Ingwë’s left, touched her husband’s arm to get his attention and her expression told him everything he needed to know. He reached over to whisper in her ear what Manveru had told him and saw the look of horror that flickered briefly across his wife’s face before it was replaced with a look of dismay. Yet Ingwë felt something stir between them along their marriage bond, a sense of determination and resolve and he knew that somehow he and Elindis would get through this difficult time together and they would be the stronger for it. He kissed her on the cheek and mouthed ‘I love you’, giving her a smile. She gave him her own smile, a particular smile reserved only for him and mouthed the same words back.

Then the meal was over, or at least people simply stopped eating even though there was plenty of food left over. Ingwë stood and gave Marilliën, who was overseeing everything, a bow. "We thank you for your solicitude in providing us with this meal, my lady," he said, "but now I think it is time and past time for us to return to Vanyamar and deal with what must be dealt with."

"I’ll just pack up the rest of the food and you can take it with you," Marilliën said. "No sense letting it go to waste. I’m sure you can find someone to eat it once you get to Vanyamar."

Ingwë raised an eyebrow but did not protest, knowing it was useless. He bowed again and thanked her, then turned to Sérener. "It’s time to leave. Get everyone ready. I wish to be gone from here within the hour."

Sérener and the other guards, who had eaten at their own table, stood up and made their way out of the dining room to fulfill their lord’s orders while Ingwë began directing everyone else to go and get themselves ready.

"What about Ingil?" Ingwion suddenly asked.

Manveru placed a hand on the ellon’s shoulder and said, "Your brother is being seen to, child. Come. Let’s go gather your things. You don’t want to keep your atar waiting, do you?"

Ingwion shook his head and meekly allowed the Maia to steer him out of the room while everyone else just stood there and watched. Ingwë shook himself and took Elindis’ arm and together they went out and the others followed. There was precious little for most of them to take with them so there was not a whole lot of time wasted in packing. The main thing was seeing to Ingalaurë. A small wagon had been brought from Vanyamar and some of the guards had cobbled up a litter on which to lay the prince. One of the guards, doing a sweep of the manor, discovered a storeroom full of different fabrics and when Elindis was shown it, she had some blue velvet taken to line the wagon and the litter and some white satin to cover her son.

Tiutalion of the People of Nienna had helped Elindis and Indil care for Ingalaurë’s body, washing it and dressing it in his richest court garb which the Maia had gone and retrieved from Vanyamar. At one point Elindis sent Indil away on an errand to find some ribbon with which to braid Ingalaurë’s hair, leaving her alone with her son and the Maia.

"I did not wish to upset Indil," she said without preamble as she straightened Ingalaurë’s tunic, "but I need to know how soon my son’s... my son’s hröa will begin to... to...."

Tiutalion gave her a compassion look. "Put your fears to rest, child. Lord Manwë and Lord Námo already instructed me to place a preservation spell upon Ingalaurë’s hröa. It will remain uncorrupted for some time. I have done the same for Lemenyon as well."

Elindis gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you. I will let Ingwë know, for he has been as concerned as I about this."

Indil came back just then and they finished plaiting Ingalaurë’s hair, carefully concealing the head wound and placing a gold circlet on his head when they were finished.

An honor guard was selected, led by Sérener, whose duty was to bring the prince down to the wagon and escort it. Everyone else stopped what they were doing when they saw the litter being brought out. Only a few had actually seen Ingalaurë after his death, others only knew about it intellectually, but now they were confronted with it in reality as the honor guard slowly made their way to the wagon and many were weeping unashamedly at the sight.

Ingwë, Elindis and Indil, along with Valandur, Arafinwë and Intarion stood to one side of the wagon to watch Ingalaurë being placed in it. Ingwion stood further back with Manveru, his expression somewhat puzzled. "Who’s that?" he whispered, pointing at his brother now being laid in the wagon. The guards had lined the bottom of the wagon with straw bales and then covered them with the velvet cloth so the litter sat above the rim of the wagon, making it possible for everyone to see the prince lying on it. Elindis moved to cover Ingalaurë with the satin cloth, leaving his face uncovered, giving him a kiss on the brow.

Manveru bent down and spoke gently. "That’s your brother, child. That’s Ingalaurë."

Ingwion stared at his brother’s body for a moment and then shook his head. "That’s not Ingil," he said forcibly. "That person’s dead, but Ingil isn’t dead."

Manveru did not answer, simply placing a hand on the ellon’s shoulder and steering him away to where his horse was waiting. The Maia urged Ingwion up and then gracefully mounted behind him. Ingwion looked back at him in surprise.

"Why are you riding with me?" he demanded.

"Because I don’t intend to walk all the way back to Vanyamar while the rest of you are riding," the Maia answered with a smile. "So your horse will have to bear the both of us."

"Hmph," Ingwion said, clearly unconvinced, but then he heard his atar order them to move out and he fell silent as Manveru expertly guided the horse into line with the others. The wagon with its escort went first, followed by Ingwë and Elindis riding side-by-side. Indil was behind them, along with Intarion while Arafinwë came behind them. Manveru brought Ingwion’s horse beside Indil. Ingwion gave her a smile but she did not return it and would not meet his gaze. He frowned in puzzlement but before he could say anything, he heard Manveru humming very softly and started yawning. Before he realized it, he was leaning against the Maia and falling asleep.

Indil and Intarion gave Manveru surprised looks. He smiled back. "Lord Irmo’s doing. Whenever your brother hears me humming that particular tune, he becomes sleepy. It is a way of controlling him when he goes into a tantrum."

"Will he be all right?" she asked with a worried look. "His mind doesn’t seem to be...."

But she had no words to express something she had never experienced before and ended up shrugging. Manveru nodded. "In time he will recover. You must just be patient."

"I don’t see why he is acting like this," Intarion chimed in with a huff of impatience, shifting the sling holding his left arm in place to a more comfortable position. "It’s not as if none of the rest of us are in pain and I don’t mean physically, either."

Indil nodded in agreement. "Intarion is correct. I’m grieving as much as Ingwion is. Ingil was my brother, too."

"Yet, apparently Ingwion is suffering on a deeper level than you are, child," the Maia said gently. "Your brothers are twins and twins have a special connection that is shared by no others, however closely related they may be. I should know, for I have a twin, too."

Indil and Intarion looked at him in disbelief, but then they appeared to think over what he had said and their expressions became more thoughtful. Indil looked upon her sleeping brother with more compassion.

The rest of the journey was done in silence. The horse-drawn wagon set the pace, so the going was slower than it normally would have been, but they still reached Vanyamar in just over an hour. Word had been received of their coming, for it had not gone unnoticed by any that Lord Ingoldo had returned to the city under guard and rumors had flown as to the reason. Thus, the road was lined with Elves who watched with something akin to horror as the torch-lit cavalcade made its slow and silent way past them, the people hastily bowing and curtseying as they saw Ingwë and Elindis and the rest of the royal family riding behind the wagon. There were not a few looks of surprise when they noticed Prince Ingwion sleeping in the arms of a Maia, but none of them could fathom the reason why. Manveru did not waken the ellon until they were nearly at the west gate. Ingwion looked about in confusion at first, but when the Maia assured him that all was well he remained quiet.

The journey through the city was slowed somewhat by the number of people crowding the streets from the gate to the palace, for in some places they were standing four or five deep and

had spilled out onto the road, making passage difficult for the wagon. Ingwë ordered some of the guards that had taken the rear position to move forward and open a way for them. People began to hastily move back and the cavalcade moved more quickly up the precipice on which the palace was perched. In the plaza before the palace they found Sorontor, along with Valandur, Findis and Indis waiting for them, for Ingwë had sent word to Ilmarin requesting their presence. Ingwë did not give them a chance to speak, but slipped off his horse even before the wagon was brought to a halt in front of the doors and quietly issued orders for Ingalaurë to be taken inside to the throne room.

"Is all in readiness, Sorontor?" Ingwë asked quietly.

The chamberlain nodded, tears streaming down his face. "Yes, Majesty. We’ve had a table brought in and covered with blue velvet as you instructed."

"Good, good," Ingwë said, clapping a hand on the ellon’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "When we’re all settled I will allow the people to come and view Ingalaurë, to see for themselves. We still have to make additional arrangements for him but that can wait. What about Ingoldo?"

Sorontor grimaced. "He was taken directly to his apartments and remains there under guard. As you instructed, I’ve had the balcony and the windows bricked up so they cannot get out that way though they still have access to fresh air."

"A necessary precaution," Ingwë said, "since, in spite of him giving me a promise not to try to escape or cause trouble, I cannot trust him."

Sorontor simply nodded and then he and Ingwë and Elindis went inside, followed by the others, with Manveru sticking close to his charge, who seemed biddable enough and apparently glad to be home again, for he went directly to his own apartments without protest when Ingwë ordered the Maia to escort him there and keep him there until sent for.

****

Approximately two hours after Ingwë’s return to Vanyamar he ordered the doors of the palace opened and the first of the mourners streamed in, guided by guards towards the throne room where they found the young prince laid out on a table that stood just before the throne dais with four white candles on elf-high silver candlesticks placed at the corners, giving the room its only illumination. On the table, which was covered with blue velvet cloth, lay Ingalaurë. Covering him from the chest down was a silk banner depicting the emblem of the heir to the royal House of Ingwë: a white star of sixteen points on a deep blue background with a golden flower representing Laurelin in the center. The emblem belonged to both Ingwion and Ingalaurë and there was no difference between them. Indil’s emblem was similar but had a gold harp instead, indicating the Vanyar’s allegiance to Lord Manwë, whom they considered the patron of song and poetry. Standing at attention at the head and foot of the table were two guards facing each other. The people passed the body on either side, pausing for a moment to stare at their prince before moving on, exiting through side doors.

The crowds were quiet and respectful and any conversations were held in soft whispers. Most left the throne room in tears. The sheer number of people wishing to see their prince necessitated that Ingwë keep the doors open continuously for what was the equivalent of two and a half days. During that time, no one saw the royal family. Ingwë held a brief meeting of the Privy Council to discuss the state of affairs and to arrange for the coming trials. They also discussed what arrangements should be made for Ingalaurë but no one knew what to do. Arafinwë, who sat at the table beside Ingwë, spoke of what had been done to the dead at Alqualondë, but neither cremation nor interment in the sea appealed to Ingwë and the matter was dropped for the moment.

Finally, the last of the mourners came and went, leaving the prince alone with his honor guard. Only then did the royal family, except for Ingwion, enter the throne room to visit with the dead. Ingwë dismissed the guards temporarily, asking them to see that the family was not disturbed. Elindis stood on one side of the bier and stroked her son’s hair, smiling wistfully down at him. Ingwë stood on the other side, his expression one of deep thought.

"There will have to be some type of ceremony, I suppose," he finally said with a sigh, his voice sounding abnormally loud in the emptiness of the chamber for all that his tone was soft. "Yet, what do we do with him afterwards? Where do we place him? Someday he will return to us and the thought of passing his resting place when he is standing right beside me is... is just too strange to contemplate."

"The mountains are riddled with caves," Valandur said where he stood with Findis, "Perhaps we can use one, sealing it up."

"Yet, we would always know where he was," Elindis said softly. "Ingwë is correct. The idea of having Ingil walking beside us all the while knowing just where his first hröa lay is just too strange to contemplate. I would rather not know."

Before anyone else could comment, the room lit up with multi-colored flashes of light that caused them all to close their eyes. When the glare had lessened, they opened their eyes to see all the Valar there, surrounding them in a circle with Lord Manwë and Lady Varda standing at the head of the bier while Lord Námo and Lady Vairë were at its foot. The other Valar held the same positions as their thrones at the Máhanaxar. The Elves started to give the Valar their obeisance, but Manwë raised a hand to forestall them.

"There is no need, my children," he said softly. "We have only come to pay our respects."

Ingwë nodded. "Thank you. We were just discussing what must be done now. We’re at a loss as to what we should do."

"Understandable," Manwë said with a sympathetic smile. "A simple ceremony in which you remember all the good things about your son and not mention any of the bad would do, I think."

Both Ingwë and Elindis raised eyebrows at the Elder King, but then Ingwë chuckled, realizing what the Vala was about. "The ceremony is not the problem. Deciding what to do with him afterwards is."

"Ah. Then if I may suggest," Manwë said. "Let us take care of that detail for you. We will take him someplace where he will never be disturbed. We will do the same for poor Lemenyon, as well."

Ingwë and Elindis exchanged looks, silently communicating through their marriage bond. Elindis finally gave her husband a slight nod and Ingwë breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to Manwë. "We are grateful for your willingness to help, lord."

"It is the least we can do," Manwë said.

"Ingwion is not with you?" Varda asked.

Ingwë shook his head. "We felt it wiser to not have him here at this time. We left him sleeping."

"Sleep is the best thing for him at this time," Lord Irmo said. "When we have done what needs to be done for Ingalaurë, I will see what can be done for Ingwion, to help him come to terms with what has happened."

"Thank you," Elindis said with a grateful look. "I have already lost one son, I do not wish...."

But she was interrupted by the scent of balsam suddenly filling the air and Manveru was there, bowing to his lord. "Forgive me, but we have a problem."

"What is it?" Ingwë asked with alarm. "Ingwion...."

"Appears to be missing," the Maia said with a rueful look on his face.

"Perhaps you should explain," Manwë said in a voice that just bordered on frigid.

Manveru looked embarrassed, which was rather a novelty to the Elves, never having seen any of the Maiar squirm before the Valar.

"He awoke insisting he was hungry and asked me to fetch him something from the kitchen. I would have simply had a servant sent for but Ingwion insisted that he didn’t want to wait that long and would I please go and fetch him something before he perished from hunger." He gave them a sour grin. "I told him to stay put and I would only be a few minutes. He promised he would. I was gone no more than five minutes but when I returned he was missing and I checked in all the usual places where he might have gone in the meantime."

"Begin a search immediately," Ingwë ordered before Manwë could speak. "Valandur, call out the guards. I want this entire palace and the gardens searched. Have someone check the stables in

case he’s decided to leave the city, though why he would I don’t know, but no stone is to be left unturned until he’s found."

"Where could he have gone and why?" Indil asked.

"We’ll know the answer to that when we find him," Ingwë said grimly.

****

Ingwion waited for a count of twenty-four after Manveru faded away before he slipped out of the bed and grabbed his clothes, dressing hurriedly. He opened the drawer of the side table near his bed where he had secreted a knife while no one was looking, slipped it behind his belt and made his way to the balcony. He had no idea what the time was and did not care. He looked about and found the balcony that was his goal. It would not be easy to reach it but it was doable so long as he took his time and did not panic. For a moment, he hesitated, thinking that perhaps what he was attempting was pure madness, but then he shrugged and stepped lightly upon the balustrade, gathered his courage and leapt across the intervening space to the next balcony, just barely making it. He had to scramble to pull himself up, hoping he wasn’t making too much noise. Once safely on the balcony he took a deep breath and waited for his limbs to stop shaking before making the next leap.

Two more balconies to go....

****

Ingoldo focused his eyes, unsure what had woken him. As one of the oldest of the Elves he required less sleep than most and usually just wove waking dreams when he needed rest, but the events of the last few days and his beating by Ingwion had left his store of energy depleted and he went to his bed gratefully directly after having eaten. Tinwetariel remained in their sitting room reading. He sat up, gazing around, trying to figure out what had disturbed him. Some small sound, he thought, but now all was silent and he did not notice anything out of place. He had no idea how much time had passed while he slept and wondered if his wife was still awake or if she had retired to her own chambers. He decided to get up and check, for he felt suddenly uneasy without understanding why.

He threw off the covers and started to swing his legs around when movement caught his eyes and a figure came rushing out of the shadows by the balcony entrance, now bricked up so only a space of about a foot remained at the top. Before he could react, he found himself being pushed back down upon the bed and a knife was suddenly at his throat, gleaming coldly. He looked up to see Ingwion gazing down at him and the expression on his nephew’s face was terrible to see and for the first time Ingoldo felt genuine fear turning his blood to ice.

"Now, Uncle," Ingwion said in a soft yet deadly tone. "It’s time you and I had a little chat." He leaned down to whisper in Ingoldo’s ear. "And then I’m going to kill you."