In Darkness Bound by Fiondil

---

Chapter 126: Moonrise

---

126: Moonrise

It was beautiful. It was also terrifying and Ingwë felt suddenly small and insignificant before such an awesome sight. He could not even formulate words to describe what he was feeling, save that it was similar to what he had felt the first time he had beheld the Trees. That, too, had been both wonderful and terrifying at the same time, yet in some indefinable way, this felt different, but what that difference was, he could not say.

The sound of sobbing drew his attention from the pale white orb riding majestically up the sky and he turned to see his son in tears. Instinctively, he wrapped a comforting arm around Ingwion and gave him a hug.

"It’s all right, yonya," he whispered into his ear. "All is well." Though, of course, he wasn’t entirely sure of that himself, yet he did not wish for Ingwion to become upset, not in his present state of mind. He then noticed that Manveru and Erunáro were there beside them, though he had quite forgotten about them in all the excitement. He gave them a considering look. "Do you know what this means?"

"Yes," Manveru answered, "but the answer lies with Lord Manwë." Then he placed a hand on Ingwion’s head as if in benediction, leaning over slightly to speak to the ellon. "You see, child. The Light always returns, even if not in the same way as before. Darkness does not have the final say, for Ilúvatar will not permit it."

"It... it’s so beautiful," Ingwion said in the midst of his tears.

Manveru smiled. "Yes, it is. And so are you."

Ingwion gave the Maia a puzzled stare, not sure what Manveru meant, but before he could ask, he was distracted by the conversation Ingwë was having with Olwë and Arafinwë.

"... need to speak with Lord Manwë," he heard his atar say.

"We should all go," Olwë said with a nod and Arafinwë agreed.

"I’m coming with you," Ingwion spoke up firmly, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"And I," Lindarion said from where he was standing beside his ammë and there was no give in his expression.

"Count me in," Intarion added, then gave them a hesitant look. "I mean, if it’s all right."

"It’s fine, Intarion," Ingwë said. "The heirs should be there when we speak to the Elder King."

Intarion’s expression was one of bemusement. "Heir? Whose heir?"

"We’ll talk about it later," Ingwë replied firmly. "Right now I need to make sure we don’t have a panic on our hands. I don’t intend to leave the city in a state of confusion."

"They’re going to come here demanding answers," Arafinwë said with a nod. "Indeed, I’m sure they are already at the gates. We had better decide on what to tell them and quickly. The sooner we leave for Ilmarin, the sooner we learn what is going on."

"Yet, what do we tell them?" Ingwë asked rhetorically, staring at the two Maiar who were still standing on either side of Ingwion.

"Tell them the truth," Manveru said with a slight shrug. "You do not know what is happening but you are going to consult with the Elder King and find out. In the meantime, you ask that everyone remain calm until your return."

"And you’re not going to tell us what this all means and save us the trouble," Olwë said.

Both Maiar shrugged. "It is not for us to say," Erunáro answered. "But we will remain here to see that the city remains calm."

"What about Tirion and Alqualondë?" Arafinwë asked, his expression troubled.

"And don’t forget the Southern Fiefdoms," Intarion added.

"Fear not! Maiar have already been dispatched to those places to assure your people that all is well," Manveru promised them. "In the meantime, I think it wise for you to address your people, Ingwë, and let them know that they have nothing to fear from this. It is a gift from the Valar to all the peoples of Arda, a sign that Light will always prevail over Darkness."

Ingwë nodded, then began issuing orders, leading everyone back into the palace. He and the royal families made their way to the upper story balcony overlooking the front plaza, for it was where the High King would normally address his people. The others who had attended the ball, having overheard most of the conversation between Ingwë and the Maiar, made their way outside to mingle with the crowd that was already there, most of them alternating between staring up into the sky with looks ranging from awe to terror and looking at the balcony, wondering when Ingwë would appear. There was little in the way of conversation, for many were feeling too fearful. But when at last Ingwë came out, there was a shout and several voices began demanding an explanation. Ingwë raised his hands and the crowd became silent. Many were mesmerized by the sight of the High King, flanked by the other two kings, all of them bathed in the strange silvery light, their bejeweled crowns glittering with cold fire.

"I have no explanation for you, my people," Ingwë said in a ringing voice. "I can only tell you that I believe this is a gift from the Valar, that this is the light that was promised. I and my fellow rulers are going to Ilmarin to speak with Lord Manwë and learn from him what this all means. In the meantime, I ask that you remain calm until I return, hopefully with an explanation." He gave them a wry smile, though only those in the front could see it and there were a few chuckles among the crowd. "I leave my beloved queen to rule in my absence." he continued. "I trust that when I return, Vanyamar will still be here."

Now there was genuine laughter from the populace. Satisfied, Ingwë motioned for the others to leave the balcony and in minutes, he and those who would be going to Ilmarin with him were exiting the palace, flanked by guards to ease their way through the crowd still milling about in the courtyard and spilling out onto the streets flanking the palace. Almost at once a path was made to allow the High King and his entourage to pass through, wending its way toward the north gate. Many followed in silence, though there was the occasional muttered curse as people, still staring up into the sky while walking, would trip over a step or bang into a lamppost while those around them tittered at their mishaps. Ingwë ignored it all, as did the others with him, but when they reached the north gate, he turned to address those who had followed them.

"I thank you for the escort, my people," he said graciously. "Now, go and return to your earlier merriment, for we now have something else to celebrate: the return of the Light, for it seems to me that that orb is filled with the light of Telperion and so it must be that something was salvaged from the Trees or at least from the Eldest. Therefore, rejoice and make merry and I will return soon."

With that, he made his way out of the gate and onto the road leading to the mansions of the Elder King and his Spouse with Ingwion by his side. The others followed in silence, for indeed, none were willing to speak. Most stole glances at the strange orb rising slowly above them, then glanced about to see the effect of the silvery light upon the earth.

"It is like but unlike Telperion," Intarion finally said when they paused at the Rainbow Bridge for a moment to catch their breaths. "And the stars are still visible. Do you suppose the Valar were able to rescue something of Laurelin as well?"

Ingwë shrugged. "We’ll find out soon enough. Come. Let us go on."

At last they reached the top of Taniquetil and passed through the eagle gate to be greeted by Eönwë, who smiled upon them joyously. "The Elder King is expecting you," he said and he led the way into the mansion and to one of the receiving rooms where they found all the Valar. After they made their obeisance, Manwë invited the Elves to join them.

Ingwë took note of the expressions on the Valar’s faces. Most had the same joyous look that Eönwë had, but he also detected a sense of smugness coming from them as well and had to smile, not at all begrudging them.

"We know why you are here," Manwë said without preamble, his eyes twinkling with merriment. "Indeed, we expected to see most of the city on our doorstep demanding an explanation."

"I was able to convince them to stay behind with the promise that I would return posthaste," Ingwë said with barely contained amusement. "So if you wouldn’t mind telling us what this is all about, we’ll be on our way."

There were several raised eyebrows among the Valar, but Manwë only chuckled, not at all upset by Ingwë’s manner. "The explanation is simple," he said. "We were able to salvage one last flower and fruit of the Trees, enough to create Lights that will be for all of Arda and not for Aman alone."

"Lights," Ingwë said, "but there is only the one, with the light of Telperion."

Manwë nodded. "A vessel for the fruit of Laurelin is even now being prepared. It will take a little longer for us to bring it forth, but in the meantime, we felt it only right to give you Telperion’s last flowering of light as a harbinger of what is to come. Laurelin’s light will be greater, indeed, so bright that it will block out the sight of the stars, but Telperion’s light, as you see, is softer and so the stars will remain visible." He paused and gave them a gentle smile. "I think you’ve gotten used to seeing them again, haven’t you?"

Ingwë nodded, his expression becoming distant with memory. "I’d forgotten how much I missed seeing them."

"Who's riding the... the orb?" Ingwion asked suddenly. "I could see someone guiding it."

Manwë smiled. "Ah, that would be Tilion, one of Oromë’s people. He volunteered to guide the orb on its appointed path."

"We’ll need to come up with a name for it," Arafinwë said. "Calling it ‘that bright thing in the sky’ doesn’t quite do it for me."

There was laughter all around. "I’m sure you’ll come up with something appropriate for both lights," Manwë said.

"Don’t you have a name for it already?" Lindarion asked.

"Oh yes, at least in our own tongue," Varda assured them, "but we will wait to see what you come up with on your own. Whatever names you give these lights will be perfectly fine with us."

"Something for the loremasters to argue over," Arafinwë said with a wicked grin. "And all the while, some elfling will call it something out of the simplicity of his or her vocabulary and everyone else will pick up on it and when the loremasters finally trot out their perfect name for the orb, it will be ignored for the child’s word."

All the Valar started laughing and the Elves joined in, knowing that Arafinwë’s prediction was probably more true than not. When they had all calmed down, Irmo moved to stand before Ingwion, who looked at the Vala with some trepidation. Irmo smiled benignly at the ellon.

"I sense a change in you, child," he said gently. "Something within you has altered."

"It... it was the light," Ingwion whispered. "I... I saw it... it’s so beautiful and... and I realized things were not as dark as they had seemed before."

"They never truly are," Irmo said with a nod. "Can you tell me what you are feeling now?"

Ingwion was silent for a moment, his gaze inward as he searched his emotions and his soul, then he nodded and gave the Vala a shy look. "I... I think it’s hope, but I’m not really sure."

"I am," Irmo said firmly. "I think you have regained some measure of hope, for yourself and for your people."

"Does that mean I’m not... not mind-sick anymore?" Ingwion asked, his expression one of doubt.

Irmo shook his head. "No, not precisely, but you’ve made a good start toward recovery. Finding hope again is the first important step. When things are a bit more settled, I will ask you to come to Lórien for a while. I think you need some time to yourself, don’t you?"

Ingwion nodded.

"Good, good," the Lord of Lórien said, giving him a pleased smile. "We’ll talk later and make the necessary arrangements."

"How long will I have to stay?" Ingwion asked, looking embarrassed.

"I will not keep you there against your will, Ingwion. You will stay for as long as you wish, but I do hope you stay long enough to visit with your friends. They quite enjoyed your last visit. Some of them still haven’t recovered." Irmo gave him a conspiratorial wink and Ingwion actually laughed out loud, a laugh that was genuine and full of joy and those who heard it silently rejoiced. Satisfied with the ellon’s response, Irmo placed a hand on Ingwion’s head in benediction before returning to Estë’s side.

Manwë then addressed Ingwë. "We are, of course, aware of how the trial went," he said. "I’ve taken the liberty of sending some of my people to Tol Eressëa where they are constructing a simple house for Ingoldo. There’s a harbor on the west coast where a stream comes down to the bay that is suitable. It should be ready in a few weeks."

"Thank you," Ingwë said. "I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I think I figured Ingoldo would be building his own house or living in a cave or something."

Manwë smiled. "It won’t be luxurious, but it will be comfortable, much like the hunting lodge, so he shouldn’t feel too deprived."

"Have you decided on the length of his exile?" Varda asked.

Ingwë shook his head. "I promised him it wouldn’t be as long as Fëanáro’s exile was meant to be, but as for the exact amount of time, that has yet to be decided. I think I will leave him there long enough for him to find some humility, though I’m not entirely hopeful that he ever will."

"That is for the future to decide," Manwë said. "In the meantime, we have other considerations." He turned to Aulë, giving him a nod and the World-Smith smiled broadly as he gestured and a crown appeared in his hands.

"I have something of yours, Pityahuan," he said to Arafinwë. "I think it’s high time you returned to Tirion and take up this crown, don’t you?" He held the crown up for them to see.

It was made of mithril, finely wrought in an intricate interlace that came to a point at the front where a single large emerald was set surrounded by smaller sapphires. It was delicate, almost ethereal, in design, yet, for all its seeming lightness, Arafinwë knew that its weight would be heavy upon his brow. He hesitated for only a moment before taking a couple of steps to stand before Aulë and gingerly reaching out for the crown. It was the final test, he knew, and he was determined to pass it, for Eärwen’s sake and his love for her, if not for his own. When he took the crown, there was a sigh that came from everywhere and nowhere and Arafinwë realized that he had not been the only one holding his breath.

"It’s beautiful," he said simply. "Thank you."

Aulë merely nodded and returned to Yavanna’s side.

"So I think you should plan to return to Tirion soon," Manwë said, "and take up your duties as Noldóran."

"Will there be any ceremony upon your return?" Ingwion asked. "Or do you plan to just sneak into the city and surprise everyone?"

Arafinwë made a motion as if to swat Ingwion on the head and his cousin ducked, grinning all the while. The others chuckled at the byplay. Then Arafinwë’s expression became more solemn as he turned to Ingwë. "I suppose there should be some sort of ceremony, if only for me to give you my fealty."

Ingwë nodded. "Why don’t we plan to leave for Tirion in the next day or so and plan the ceremony as we go?" he suggested, then turned to Olwë. "I know you are anxious to return to Alqualondë but you can stop at Tirion long enough to see Arafinwë crowned, can’t you?"

Olwë nodded. "I wouldn’t miss it for anything," he said, giving his son-in-law a warm smile.

"I’ll have one of my fastest couriers leave as soon as we return to Vanyamar to alert Anairë and the people of Tirion to our coming," Ingwë said. "They’ll have a day’s notice at least before we get there."

"I think I would like to have the coronation ceremony take place at the city gate before I even enter Tirion," Arafinwë said. "I need to ask the people for their forgiveness in deserting them when they needed me the most and I think this gesture will go a long way towards healing any resentment they might have towards me."

"I believe you underestimate the love your people have for you, my son," Manwë said, "but how you plan the ceremony is up to you. If you would like, I can have one of my people announce your coming to the good people of Tirion. Olórin is already there keeping watch over the city. It would be easy enough for him to relay any instructions you might have for Lady Anairë with regards to how you want things to go once you arrive."

"That would certainly give them more time to prepare," Arafinwë said with a grateful look.

"Then that is what we will do," Manwë said. "Indeed, it is already done, and even now the good Anairë is issuing orders."

"Then I suppose we should be on our way," Ingwë said with a faint smile, "and prepare ourselves for the journey."

"Won’t our own people be upset to see us leave again?" Ingwion asked.

"I think they will be understanding," Ingwë assured him, "and I suspect a good portion of them will accompany us. Certainly many of the nobles will."

"Who will you leave behind to govern during your absence?" Arafinwë asked.

"Hmm... Perhaps I can convince your ammë to stay," Ingwë replied. "I have the feeling that she never wishes to see Tirion again anyway, so this would be a good excuse for her not to return."

Arafinwë nodded. "I agree. She has no desire to return to Tirion even for my sake, nor do I blame her. I think Ammë will be more than willing to take the regency, though you might have a fight on your hands when you try to take it back." He gave them all a wicked grin and Ingwë threw back his head and laughed.

"I’m sure I’ll be able to convince her to step down," he said with a smile. "Well, let’s be on our way, then. We have much to do."

"Intarion," Manwë said before the Elves could make their farewells, "you should know that Lirulin is returning from Lórien even as we speak. Indeed, Cemendil and his wife, Séremárië, are with her."

"Then you were able to help Cemendil," Intarion said, looking at Lord Irmo, who nodded. "That is good news. I will let Tamurilon know."

"They should actually reach Valmar within a few hours, so I will have them wait for you there."

Then the audience was over and the Elves bade the Valar farewell. Eönwë, as usual, escorted them to the gates. There, they stopped for a moment and the Maia gave Ingwion a searching look. "I think my brothers will soon be dismissed from their duties of watching over you, young Ingwion," he said.

"But not too soon," Ingwë retorted before Ingwion could respond, giving the Maia a wink. "Lord Irmo didn’t say Ingwion was entirely cured and until he does, I’m not taking any chances."

Ingwion sighed loudly, looking both irate and embarrassed at the same time. Eönwë smiled knowingly and bent down to speak more privately to the ellon, though in truth, they all heard him. "Tell my brothers from me that they have my permission to get you into as much trouble as they can."

Ingwion stared at the Maia in disbelief for a long moment, but when he saw the twinkle of merriment in Eönwë’s eyes, he smiled slyly, understanding just what the Maia meant. Ingwë caught the expression on his son’s face and gave a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes, causing everyone else to chuckle. They bade the Maia farewell and began heading down the mountain. When they reached the Rainbow Bridge they stopped long enough to watch the play of silver light on the cascading waters, softly commenting on its beauty, different from what they had known when the Trees were alive, yet beautiful nonetheless.

Gazing at the falls, its water sparkling darkly in the silvery light, Ingwion felt something inside him break open, some emotion he barely recognized for what it was, but his fëa felt suddenly lighter and the light surrounding them seemed brighter to him than it had been. He stole a glance at Intarion standing next to him as his cousin gazed at the waterfall and, in a sudden fit of mischief, he punched Intarion in the arm, eliciting from him a surprised yelp.

"Race you!" he shouted and started running down the mountain.

"Hey!" Intarion yelled, but he was right behind Ingwion and their laughter as they ran down the mountain together echoed through the mountains so that even the people of Vanyamar heard it from a distance and wondered at its import.