In Darkness Bound by Fiondil

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Chapter 13: Betrothal


13: Betrothal

Ingwion was secretly relieved to find that all was quiet in Vanyamar when they descended the mountain. Ingoldo was studiously polite as he reported to the twins that naught of any import had occurred while they were having their audience with the Valar. Tamurilon and Intarion returned separately so as not to arouse suspicions. Findis promised to take Intarion to Lirulin while Valandur remained with the twins and Indil. When she returned a few hours later there was definitely a smug look on her face. The twins glanced at each other and grinned.

At the council meeting held the next day, Ingoldo remained silent, only speaking when directly addressed. His expression was stony and his eyes smoldered with barely concealed anger but he did not contradict anything said by either twin or those whom he knew favored them over him. His own supporters remained silent as well, and some of those who had vacillated in their allegiance were now openly supporting Ingwion and Ingalaurë.

"Well, I think that will be all for today, my lords and ladies," Ingwion said with a bow of his head. "I thank you for your time and...."

"Forgive me, my prince," Tamurilon said, right on cue.

"Yes, Lord Tamurilon?" Ingwion said, giving the ellon a slight frown that only two other people knew to be faked.

"It has been my habit to go to Eldamas to visit my atar from time to time," Tamurilon explained. "I wish to do so now, if I may."

"Now?" Ingalaurë asked, playing his part in the charade.

Tamurilon nodded. "It has been some time since I saw Atar," he said, "not since before that incident with Prince Fëanáro."

Ingwion noticed the pained expressions on the faces of most of the councillors at the mention of the first-born son of King Finwë and suppressed a smile. Ingoldo and a few others, he noticed, kept their miens blank and he could not tell what they were feeling.

"Well, how long do you intend to be gone, Tam?" Ingwion asked, bringing the discussion down to a more personal level.

"If I leave tomorrow I can be back before next Valanya," the youngest member of the Privy Council answered. "I should point out," he added quickly, "that the High King always gave his permission to let me go whenever I asked."

Ingwion glanced at Ingalaurë as if to gauge his twin’s reaction to that information. Ingalaurë gave a slight nod for the benefit of the onlookers and Ingwion turned to Tamurilon with a smile. "Far be it from us to deny you that for which Atar has already given his permission. Please give Lord Cemendil our warmest greetings and regard." He paused, as if considering something. "As you will be gone until next Valanya, I think we can forgo our usual council schedule unless something drastic comes up. We will adjourn until next Menelya. You will be back by then, I trust?"

Tamurilon nodded. "I will return that morning."

"Good. Then we will meet again an hour after the noon meal a week from this Menelya," Ingwion said. "I thank you for your time, my lords and ladies. The council is dismissed."

With that, he and Ingalaurë stood and the others followed, some more reluctantly than others, but all gave them their obeisance, again some more reluctantly than others. The twins exited the council chamber side-by-side and it was only after they had reached their own apartments that they allowed themselves a good laugh over their performance.

"Now let us hope that Lord Cemendil will play his part in all this," Ingwion said when they had calmed down somewhat.

"How long do you think Uncle will wait before he makes his move?" Ingalaurë asked. "With Tam away he might think he has a majority vote in the council."

"Yet, if we do not meet, then there cannot be any vote," Ingwion pointed out.

"Unless he forces a meeting in the meantime," Ingalaurë insisted. "You did tell them that we would meet if something drastic occurred. Uncle may very well precipitate that ‘something drastic’ to force the issue."

"Then we will have to be firm and tell him that you and I will determine what is drastic and what is not," Ingwion said with a frown. "He cannot call a council meeting on his own. Only you and I have that authority. Even if all the other members of the council ask for a meeting, if we refuse, they cannot hold a meeting without our presence or whatever they decide will be null and void. I know, because I looked it up." He gave Ingalaurë a wicked smile and the younger twin snorted in amusement.

"Let’s hope you’re correct, Brother," he said, "or we may be in greater trouble than we think."

To that Ingwion had no reply.

****

The week passed rather quietly.

"Too quietly," Ingalaurë remarked darkly as he and Ingwion made their way up to Ilmarin four days later for their weekly audience with Lord Manwë.

"You cannot have it both ways, háno," Ingwion replied with a smile.

"I did not like the idea of Uncle haring off to the hunting lodge," his brother said. "I know he goes there around this time and there’s nothing unusual about him doing so, but I would prefer to have him where I can see him."

"As would I," Ingwion admitted, "but we sort of gave him a legitimate excuse when we allowed Tam to go to Eldamas. We couldn’t very well deny him the right to spend a few days hunting. We don’t have that authority."

"I know," Ingalaurë said. "I just wish...." He shrugged and Ingwion wrapped an arm around the ellon’s shoulders, giving him a brief smile.

"As do I," he said softly. "As do I."

When they reached Ilmarin and were ushered into the audience chamber, they were surprised to see only Lord Manwë present and wondered what was happening elsewhere that required the attention of all the other Valar. For as long as the twins could remember, all the Valar, even Lord Ulmo, made a point of being present when Ingwë came on Valanya to discuss the doings of the Vanyar and the rest of Eldamar.

Manwë smiled warmly as they gave him their obeisance, gesturing for them to take seats before him. "My fellow Valar send their regrets," he said. "They are... away."

"Away?" Ingalaurë asked with a frown. "Away where?" Then he gasped, looking somewhat abashed as he realized he had overstepped the bounds of propriety.

Manwë’s smile deepened, for he was not at all offended by the ellon’s curiosity. "We Valar seldom leave Arda these days," he explained. "The drama of creation is centered here now that you Children have entered the Story, but that is not to say we never leave. We are the Guardians not just of Arda but of all of Eä and so the others are away, overseeing the rest of the cosmos. Lord Námo thought he detected some anomalies in the upper dimensions of the space-time continuum...." He paused, seeing the blank looks of incomprehension on the twins’ faces and chuckled somewhat ruefully. "Well, that is neither here nor there. Suffice to say they regret they could not be here at this time, but they will return soon. After all," and here he gave them a sly look, "there’s a betrothal in the offing, if I’m not mistaken."

The twins both snickered at that and nodded eagerly. "Intarion is very nervous about it," Ingwion offered. "Every time I see him he’s... er... throwing up."

"Poor ellon," Manwë said in a commiserating tone. "And the young elleth? How is she faring?"

The twins shrugged, not really knowing or even caring. Ellith were... well ellith and neither really had much to do with them as yet. "Findis and Indil would know," Ingwion admitted somewhat apologetically.

Manwë nodded, well aware through his network of Maiar, just how Lady Lirulin was faring. He decided to change the subject. "Your uncle is away, I see."

Ingalaurë grimaced. "We were discussing that on our way up," he said. "Neither one of us is happy not to have him where we can see him, but we had no choice but to let him go. I just hope he’s not plotting some kind of mischief in the meantime."

"As to that," Manwë said equably, "only time will tell. I suspect though that once the betrothal is announced he will have little time to think of anything else. I take it your Aunt Tinwetariel is also against the match."

Ingwion nodded. "They both think Lirulin is not good enough for Intarion. Her family belongs to the minor nobility and in fact, her atar is a member of the merchants’ guild, trading with Tirion and Alqualondë."

"Oh?" Manwë asked, giving them to know that he was truly interested in hearing more, even if the twins suspected he already knew about Lirulin and her family. They would not know that Manwë was more interested in their own feelings about Lord Nolondur.

Ingwion nodded. "He is a wine merchant. He has several vineyards in the Southern Fiefdoms. I’ve tasted some of his wines. They are quite good. Atar has his own stock of Lord Nolondur’s best." He gave Manwë a wide grin, which the Elder King returned.

"So, Ingwë sees nothing wrong with Nolondur being a merchant?" he asked diffidently.

Both twins shook their heads. "Nor do we," Ingalaurë said. "Lord Nolondur is well respected among the guildmasters of his craft and well liked by those who know him. He is generous and open-handed to all. Only those who think knowing a trade to be demeaning look down on him."

"I once asked him why he, a member of the nobility, sought to become a vintner," Ingwion said.

"And what did he say?" Manwë asked.

Ingwion shrugged. "He said that he had started his vineyards almost as an afterthought when we Vanyar still resided in Tirion. He had hired people who professed some knowledge of wine-making to tend to the grapes but he came to realize that he had no real knowledge of what went into making a good wine, so he asked to be admitted into the vintner’s guild as an apprentice." He paused and snickered. "Atar was rather nonplused by it when he found out but decided not to forbid it, saying that it was a harmless hobby."

"Only it turned out to be more than a hobby for Nolondur, didn’t it?" Manwë said, his eyes twinkling with humor.

The twins nodded. "He went on to become a wine merchant," Ingalaurë stated, "saying that it gave him more satisfaction than being a minor lord of a minor estate that no one really cared about, least of all him."

Manwë raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh? I was under the impression that he cared very much for his lands and position."

"For the sake of his children," Ingwion said. "He cares naught for such things for himself and rarely attends any court function unless Atar makes a point of reminding him of his duties to the crown. As it is, he’s often away, either overseeing the delivery of his wines or examining his vineyards."

"How does he feel about his daughter marrying Intarion?" the Elder King then asked.

The twins glanced at each other somewhat blankly. Ingwion then turned to Manwë with a sheepish look. "I don’t think anyone’s ever bothered to find out."

"Ah...." Manwë said, giving them both an amused look. However, he did not pursue the subject any further and after a few more minutes of discussing other matters, the ellyn took their leave of him. For a time, Manwë sat and pondered many things. Finally, he stirred, speaking a single name softly. Immediately Eönwë was there, looking expectantly at his lord. Manwë smiled. "Find Olórin for me, would you? I believe he is with Nienna at the moment." He then gave the Maia the spatiotemporal coordinates for a particular star system in a galaxy whose light took nearly thirty thousand years to reach Arda, where Nienna and Vána were checking out the Arda-like planet circling an orange sun. It appeared that higher life forms were beginning to develop there and there was much speculation among the Ainur as to whether any of them would become sentient. "Tell him I need him to do what he does best."

"And what is that?" Eönwë asked in genuine curiosity.

"I need him to be an Elf for a time," Manwë answered.

Eönwë raised an eyebrow but otherwise did not comment. He had the greatest respect for his fellow Maia and knew his talents well. Without another word he gave Manwë his obeisance and faded from view, leaving the Elder King once again alone.

****

Ingoldo returned from the royal hunting lodge in the evening of Eärenya, his mood still sour. Intarion and his cousins stayed out of his way. Intarion, in fact, was entertaining the twins and Indil in his own apartments. Valandur and Findis joined them. They were all enjoying some of Lord Nolondur’s wine from Ingwë’s private stock, which Ingwion had brought with him.

"I don’t think Atar will mind," he said. "If he were here, I’m sure he would open a bottle or two himself in celebration."

"The betrothal hasn’t been announced yet, Ingwi," Intarion said with a smile. He was looking unusually pale and nervous.

Findis leaned over and placed a comforting hand on the ellon’s knee. "Are you having second thoughts about the betrothal?" she asked.

Intarion shook his head. "No. It’s what I want... what we both want, but I fear Atar’s wrath, never mind Amillë’s. They will not be happy and may try to... break the betrothal."

"They will fail," Valandur said solemnly. "You are both of age. Indeed, you could have married any time in the last dozen yéni. Why you waited this long...."

"I kept hoping my parents would come to accept Lirulin and her family," Intarion explained, looking rueful. "A foolish hope, I know, but...."

They all gave him sympathetic smiles. "Valandur is correct, though," Indil said gently. "It’s time and past time that you two were married." Then she gave him a wry look. "Now, with you and Lirulin betrothed, perhaps I can finally convince Tam that we should be as well."

"A double wedding," Findis said with a dreamy smile. "Under the Trees, of course. You and Tam will stand under Laurelin while Intarion and Lirulin stand beneath Telperion with the High King in the middle to hear your vows."

"Please, Findis," Ingalaurë said with a pained expression on his face. "The next thing we know you’ll be trying to get us married," he exclaimed, gesturing to his brother as well as himself.

"And what would be wrong with that?" Findis asked in surprise.

"Nothing," Ingwion said somewhat hastily. "It’s just that... well... um... couldn’t we take it one betrothal at a time?" he pleaded.

Valandur laughed, amused at the looks of horror on the twins’ faces at the prospect of marriage. "Peace, beloved," he said to Findis, giving her a brief but loving kiss on her cheek. "Ingwion is correct: one betrothal at a time. Tomorrow will be Intarion and Lirulin’s day. Let us not spoil it with useless fantasies about double weddings and such. I fear others will be spoiling the day for them without us adding to it."

They all sobered at that. Ingwion was then reminded of something that Lord Manwë had asked, and turned to Intarion. "I wonder how Lirulin’s parents think of all this. You’ve never really said."

"They are delighted, actually," Intarion answered. "Lord Nolondur has been addressing me as ‘yondo’ for ages now and both he and Lady Yáviën have insisted for some time that I call them ‘Atya’ and "Emya’.

"Well that’s a relief," Ingalaurë said with a smile. "Having one set of parents against the marriage is bad enough, but having both sets would be a complete disaster."

"Atar will insist that Lord Nolondur is merely pushing this marriage to improve his own social standing," Intarion warned them.

"Something that no one who knows Nolondur will believe anyway," Valandur said dismissively. "So just when and where do you plan to make the announcement?" he asked.

Intarion smiled, excitement brightening his eyes. "At Lirulin’s atyénaurë party. Oh, I almost forgot." He cast them a wicked grin. "You’re all invited."

"Well, I should bloody well hope so," Ingalaurë muttered in mock affront and then they were all laughing.

****

The party was actually a small affair, with only about twenty or so close friends and family. Ingwion, Ingalaurë and Indil came with a small gift for the elleth. At Findis’ suggestion the three of them presented her with a small sheaf of vellum especially crafted for inscribing musical notation, as well as some quills and several small bottles of ink, for Lirulin, young as she was — younger, in fact, than Indil — was an accomplished musician and composer. Her green-blue eyes lit up with delight at the gift and she spent several minutes thanking them profusely.

The three royals then greeted Lirulin’s family, who greeted them in return with some degree of familiarity. Then they greeted the others with whom they were acquainted and were introduced to those whom they did not know, mostly friends of Lirulin from the music academy where she taught. They appeared slightly uncomfortable in the presence of the nobility but were soon put at ease by Ingwion, Ingalaurë and Indil as they teased Intarion and Lirulin mercilessly, much to everyone else’s amusement. Intarion retaliated in kind with some embarrassing tales of his own and soon they were all laughing.

After the celebratory meal, Intarion rose, looking shy, embarrassed and pleased all at the same time. He had been sitting next to Lirulin during the feast, and now he stood, his hand in hers. The room hushed, expecting Intarion to give the usual begetting day speech before the final subtlety was brought out for them to enjoy, but only three of the onlookers knew what the speech would really be about.

Intarion cleared his throat. "Before we indulge ourselves with the atyénaurë cake," he said, looking unusually pale to the others, "there’s something Lirulin and I wish to say...."

****

"YOU WHAT!?" Ingoldo screamed in rage, glaring at Intarion.

Everyone in the room winced. Ingwion, Ingalaurë and Indil were there to lend their cousin their support. Intarion had decided to postpone telling his parents about the betrothal until the next morning. They were all gathered in the royal family’s dining room breaking their fast. The family was alone. Valandur and Findis had made previous arrangements to entertain the others of the household who normally dined with Ingwë and his family elsewhere, so as to give Intarion and his family some privacy.

Tinwetariel was weeping beside her husband. "Oh, how could you be so thoughtless," she wailed. "We’ll never live down the shame of it."

"Shame, Aunt?" Ingwion could not help asking, his expression cold and disdainful. "Lirulin comes from a well-respected family and Intarion has naught to be ashamed of. I know Atar will approve." He smiled encouragingly at Intarion, who was looking ill. He hated confronting his parents; they had a way of making him feel small and insignificant.

"Well, I do not," Ingoldo exclaimed. "Nolondur is naught but a scheming, manipulating wine merchant who hopes to better his lot with this marriage. Well, he’s in for a rude awakening, for I will not allow it."

"You will not allow it?" Intarion demanded, suddenly becoming angry on Nolondur’s behalf. Intarion had the greatest respect and love for the older ellon who treated him as a son and did not care for his atar’s mean-spirited views. "You forget, Atar, I am not an elfling and you cannot stop me from marrying Lirulin."

"My son marrying a... a wine merchant’s daughter?" Ingoldo sneered "It’s absurd. We’ll be the laughing stock of the court."

"I am not marrying a wine merchant’s daughter," Intarion said coldly. "I am marrying the daughter of Lord Nolondur and Lady Yáviën, who have the favor of the High King."

"Bah!" Ingoldo snorted, "We’ll see about that." Standing, he took a still weeping Tinwetariel by the arm and led her out of the dining room, leaving the others behind.

"Don’t worry, Intarion," Indil said, giving her cousin a sympathetic smile. "What can he possibly do?"

No one answered, but secretly Ingwion wondered how far Ingoldo would go to prevent the marriage from ever taking place.

****

Yéni: Plural of yén: Elvish ‘long-year’ or century of 144 solar years. At this time, Intarion is about 3000 years old. The twins are 3257 years old and Indil is 2900 years old.

Atya: Reduced form of atarinya ‘my father’; a term a child would use in addressing his or her father.

Emya: Reduced form of emilinya ‘my mother’; a term a child would use in addressing his or her mother. Emil is an alternate form of amil/amillë.


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