In Darkness Bound by Fiondil

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Chapter 65: Ingwë Alone

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65: Ingwë Alone

Ingwë passed through the west gate made from silver and studded with emeralds. He made his way past the Ezellohar, refusing to look at the Trees, dark and dead against the star-bejeweled skies. He kept his gaze resolutely ahead, heading for the Máhanaxar. He stopped in consternation as he neared the Ring of Doom when he saw it encircled by Maiar in shining armor, swords of light in their hands. He hesitated, unsure if he should dare approach these forbidding-looking beings. It was clear the Valar had no wish to be disturbed, certainly not by the likes of him. He sighed and turned to go, but even as he did so, one of the warriors gestured for him to approach. As he came nearer, the Maia moved aside to allow him to pass.

"Our Masters await thee," the Maia said quietly and Ingwë thanked him.

He came to stand between the thrones of Lord Manwë and Lady Varda, as was his custom and remained silent, waiting to be recognized. None of the Valar moved, not even their eyes. It was as if they were statues and he could not even detect any breathing. Did the Valar need to breathe? he wondered irrelevantly. Apparently not. He knew that the forms they took were out of convenience and that their natural forms were nothing like their fanar. Still, it was only now, in the absolute darkness as he gazed upon the Valar sitting so utterly still and unmoving that the uncanniness of these beings began to impinge on his consciousness. For the first time in a very long time, Ingwë recognized that he was truly in the presence of the other and some visceral part of his fëa cringed at that thought.

Yet, truly, what did he have to fear? He had long sat at the feet of the Elder King and the other Valar and had learned much and knew himself loved by them. But, he knew he had failed them and that weighed heavily upon him. Without consciously doing so, he sighed, and was startled when Lord Manwë turned his head and looked at him.

"Forgive me, lord, for disturbing thee," he said formally as he gave Manwë his obeisance.

"Nay, Ingwë," Manwë said. "Forgive us for seemingly ignoring thee and making thee wait."

Ingwë wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he kept silent, merely nodding his head.

"What news dost thou bring, child?" Manwë asked gently.

Ingwë sighed, and the enormity of his failure with Fëanáro came at him in a rush and he went to his knees before the Elder King. "Forgive me, lord, but I failed thee."

"How didst thou fail us, Ingwë?" Varda asked gently.

"I... Fëanáro... I fear I drove him to uttering a most vile oath and now.... Forgive me. I have no right to be Ingaran over the Eldar. I am not king enough...."

"No, Ingwë," Manwë interrupted. "Thou art and always will be High King of all the Elves in Aman. That will never change. And thou hast not failed us. What we asked of thee was an impossibility and I regret involving thee in this. I fear Fëanáro never meant to do anything less than what he hath done. The fault is not thine, but ours. Now come," he gestured for Ingwë to rise. "Tell us all that hath happened in Tirion."

"Surely thou knowest what hath transpired, lord?" Ingwë asked.

Manwë nodded. "Indeed, I do. Yet, I would have thy report, for thou art Mirroanwë and thou seest the world differently than we who are Ainur."

"But first, where is thy son, Ingwion?" Varda asked. "Did he not accompany thee?"

"Nay, lady," Ingwë answered. "He is even now traveling to Alqualondë with Findaráto to apprise Olwë of all that hath happened."

"Ah...." Manwë said, though Ingwë could not tell if the Elder King approved or disapproved. "Pray tell us all that hath happened. Leave no detail out."

Ingwë nodded and though he spoke to Manwë he knew that all the Valar were listening with great interest to his tale. "Ingwion and I arrived in Tirion well before Fëanáro came and I spoke with Ñolofinwë...."

****

The telling was long and Ingwë felt drained afterwards. He was glad that none of the Valar had interrupted his tale, but waited until he was finished before questioning him. Most of the questions appeared to center around the Oath and Ingwë had thought he was going to be violently ill at Manwë’s feet when he came to that part of the tale, but Manwë assured him that they were all aware of the wording of the Oath and what it entailed and told Ingwë to move beyond that point in his narrative. The questions themselves were general in nature, intent on ascertaining the mood of the spectators and their reactions to the Oath rather than anything specific pertaining to it. The council meeting to which Ingwë was privy also was of interest to the Valar and they spent much time going over the details of what was said and, more importantly, what was not said.

At some point, Ingwë found a goblet of mulled wine in his hands, and he was grateful, for his throat was dry. As he stood beside the Elder King’s throne and drank the wine he listened to the discussion among the Valar. He realized that they were vocalizing for his benefit alone.

"How many of the Noldor will Fëanáro take with him do you suppose?" Aulë asked, his brows furrowed in pain. He had always loved the Noldor more than the other clans. Ingwë thought that the Vala must be feeling betrayed by them and felt pity for the Worldsmith. He feared that in the end they were all going to suffer grievously because of Fëanáro.

"Probably more than we would like," Manwë answered. "The eldest son of Finwë has a silver tongue and can be very persuasive. Our one hope is that Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë can bring calm among them and convince them not to listen to Fëanáro."

Ingwë shook his head. "It is a faint hope, lord," he said. "Neither Ñolofinwë nor Arafinwë have the... presence of their elder brother and both acknowledge Fëanáro as their king. They will not go against him however much they might wish to, family loyalty being what it is among us." He gave them a deprecatory smile.

"If what you say is true, then we must simply wait and see what else develops," Manwë said. "What instructions did you give Ingwion?"

"Once he completed his mission he was to return to Vanyamar," Ingwë answered. "I do not wish for him to remain in Tirion, a lone Vanya among the Noldor where tempers are chancy. I fear that not even his status as my son will protect him and Fëanáro would have no reason to do so for one who is of the same clan as Indis whom he hates."

"I will have the Maiar who are keeping watch over the Noldor to watch out for Ingwion and see that no harm comes to him," Manwë said.

Ingwë bowed, feeling relieved. "Thank you, lord."

Manwë nodded. "You should return to Vanyamar, my son," he said gently. "There is nothing more you can do here and your people need you."

Ingwë nodded. "Then, with your leave, Sire, I will retire to Eldamas and rest for a time, for I find myself feeling suddenly weary. When I have rested I will continue my journey. And please, if there is aught that I can do...."

"I will call for thee," Manwë assured him and then gave him his blessing as did all the other Valar. Ingwë gave them his obeisance and then left them to continue with their counsel.

****

Ingwë returned to the royal townhouse where he ordered a meal sent to his suite and then tried to sleep. Unfortunately, he could not seem to quiet his mind enough to slip onto the Path of Dreams, but simply lay there, staring up at the ceiling. He went over his conversation with Lord Manwë, reviewing all that he had said, wondering what more he could have done while in Tirion, and then realizing that there was nothing he could have done to salvage the disaster of the coronation. He knew he was partly at fault for what happened, but he suspected that Lord Manwë was correct when he said that Fëanáro had meant to do precisely what he set out to do and nothing Ingwë or anyone else said or did would have stopped him.

He sighed and got up, deciding sleeping was a lost cause, and padded over to the embrasure. He gazed up at the heavens and contemplated the long years of his life, beginning with his awakening under the stars by the shores of the Sea of Helcar. He so clearly remembered beholding those twinkling lights for the first time, the thrill of fear and wonder that filled his fëa. He recalled the mysterious song, deep and sonorous, which had accompanied his awakening, not even knowing that it was a song, only feeling content and safe and loved as he listened to the words, not even understanding the words, not even knowing that they were in fact words.

His memories went forward in time to when Lord Oromë appeared and how, to his everlasting shock, the Vala chose him to be the ambassador for the Minyai, the First Clan, though he thought then as now that he was unworthy of such an honor. He had not sought to lead his people, for he thought others were more capable of doing so, but he strove to lead them to the best of his ability. Certainly, he had proven his worth during the nearly two yéni it had taken them to reach Valinor and the years which followed. Now, though, he wondered if he truly had what it took to be High King if an upstart elfling like Fëanáro could so easily defy him and take most of the Noldor with him.

Damn Finwë for an obstinate fool! And damn his son for an arrogant one!

Ingwë had no doubt that Fëanáro would die in the attempt to reclaim his precious jewels. No Elda was capable of defeating a Vala. He doubted that any were capable even of defeating a Maia. The very least of the Valar’s servants was beyond their comprehension, never mind their strength. No. Fëanáro went to his death, of that he was sure, and frankly good riddance, but he grieved for all those innocent fools who would follow the son of Finwë into Mandos’ Halls and no good would have been achieved by it. It was all a miserable waste.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it. His one last hope was that his own nephews would be able to convince the Noldor not to follow Fëanáro on his mad adventure, which could lead only to death, for that was all they would find at the end of the road. He hoped Ingwion would be returning from Alqualondë soon. He was not comfortable with the idea of his son being among the Noldor when emotions were running high. Ingwion no longer had the protection of being an ambassador and would need to rely on the good wishes of those around him, including Fëanáro.

Well, he had a choice: remain here for a few more hours and try to get some rest, and certainly he felt fatigued enough to know he needed some, or simply leave. That would mean rousing the household and he was loath to do so. He glanced at the stars shining indifferently above him. From their positions he could tell that it would be several more hours before the household would stir. He sighed and returned to his bed, certain that he would not sleep, but within five minutes he was slipping effortlessly onto the Path of Dreams and knew nothing more until one of the servants knocked on his door to bring him his breakfast.

****

Once dressed and breakfast eaten, Ingwë wasted little time, but ordered his horse to be readied. He wished he had asked Lord Manwë for the loan of one of his Maiar as an escort but decided it was not worth returning to the Máhanaxar to ask. His steward wanted him to wait until he had found sufficient ellyn to act as an escort but Ingwë was impatient to be off.

"I am only a few hours from Vanyamar," he told the ellon. "What harm can possibly befall me?"

And so he left, glad to be away from the sense of doom that seemed to hang over the town. Those who dwelt in Eldamas and served the Valar in Valmar had practically bathed in the light of the Two Trees and their loss was keenly felt, more so than among even the people residing in Vanyamar. Ingwë was glad that the ever present darkness hid the Mound from his sight, but even so, he kept his eyes on the road before him and never looked back. He was only an hour down the road when he slowed his horse, for up ahead he spied several riders coming his way.

"Greetings!" he called out, raising a hand. "Well met, my friends. Whither do you go?"

"We go to Eldamas to escort Ingwë Ingaran to Vanyamar," one of the riders called out.

Ingwë raised an eyebrow in surprise but assumed that as soon as Indis had reached the city she had asked Elindis to send an escort for him. He smiled as he imagined his sister telling Elindis that an escort was the only way to ensure that he actually did arrive.

"Then you need go no further," he said as they came abreast of him, "for it is I, Ingwë, and I welcome you. How fares the city and my queen?"

"They fare well enough, Ingwë Ingaran," the one who had called out before answered. "I am Tulcaner in the service of Lord Ingoldo."

"Ingoldo!" Ingwë exclaimed. "My brother sent you?"

Tulcaner hesitated for a second before answering. "My lord volunteered us when the queen ordered an escort be sent."

"I see," Ingwë said, not entirely convinced, but willing to accept the ellon’s words at face value for the moment. Not that he had much choice. There were four of them and he was alone. Still, it might well be that Ingoldo was being sincere in his offer of an escort. "Then I thank my brother for his solicitousness. Shall we go?"

Tulcaner nodded and without another word, the four riders formed up around him with Tulcaner in the front. Ingwë eschewed speaking to the two riding on either side of him. He did not know them and they did not appear to be the talkative types anyway. Their expressions were taciturn and Ingwë belatedly realized that both were armed with long knives. Still, that did not necessarily mean anything. They were probably only being prudent, the times being what they were.

They continued to ride in silence, stopping to rest their horses when they reached the juncture with the road that would ultimately take them to a now deserted Formenos. Ingwë kept himself apart from the other four ellyn while they rested and they appeared willing to let him decide how long they would rest before going on. He watched them surreptitiously as he brushed down his steed. They did not speak among themselves and Tulcaner, he noticed, remained aloof from the other three, his eyes always on Ingwë. The High King began to think that perhaps he had been foolish not to ask for that escort from Lord Manwë, but knew that there was nothing he could do about it now. Vanyamar was only a few more hours away and he could only hope that he would reach it without incident.

The first sign of trouble came, though, when he indicated that he was ready to resume their journey. As Ingwë fiddled with the straps of the haversack that was draped over the horse’s back he felt rather saw movement from his left. He looked up to see Tulcaner coming and taking hold of the horse’s headstall. "Tulcaner, what’s wrong?" he asked, furrowing his brows.

"Nothing," the ellon said and then nodded.

Ingwë turned to his right in surprise and shock when he felt a hand on his arm and found one of the other ellyn beside him. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, pulling roughly away.

The ellon grabbed at him again and the other two were also upon. "Unhand me!" Ingwë shouted in anger. "How dare you! I command you to release me at once!" He started struggling in their grasp and at one point he even managed to pull away from them. He tried to reach his horse, thinking that if he could do that he would be able to ride away. But he did not get that far. He was grabbed once again, and pushed to the ground. "Let me go!" he commanded even as he continued to struggle.

Then he heard Tulcaner speak. "Sorry, my lord, but we have our orders."

Before Ingwë could formulate a retort, he felt something hard hit the back of his head and he knew nothing more.

****

Elindis was dismayed when Indis and Amarië came to Vanyamar without Ingwë, though she greeted her sister-in-law warmly enough when she and the royal family welcomed the two ellith before the doors of the palace.

"Why didn’t Ingwë accompany you?" she asked Indis. "And where is Ingwion?"

"Ingwë felt the need to speak with Lord Manwë," Indis replied with a sniff, "as if the Valar aren’t aware of all that has happened. And Ingwion is still in Tirion, though I’m not entirely sure why. Something to do with hunting with his cousins."

Her off-handed attitude did not give Elindis any comfort. Rather than pursue the subject further she turned to Amarië and smiled. "Your parents will be very glad to see you, my dear. Why don’t you go find them and let them know you are here? Almáriel was most distressed to learn that you had left with the Noldor instead of returning here with them."

"My place was with Findaráto," Amarië said in a subdued voice, but she gave the queen her curtsey and went readily enough to find her parents.

Elindis then thanked Manveru and Erunáro for faithfully seeing Indis and Amarië safely to Vanyamar. Manveru bowed. "It was our pleasure, Elindis. Now we must return to our other duties."

Before she or anyone else could speak, the two Maiar faded from their view, leaving behind faint traces of some unidentified flowery scent that left them all with a feeling of well-being.

"Bother!" Elindis said with a scowl. "I was going to ask them if they would return to Valmar and escort Ingwë when he was ready to come home."

"My brother is quite capable of taking care of himself," Indis said with a smile as she turned to greet the rest of the family.

"Indis is correct, Elindis," Ingoldo said after giving Indis a perfunctory kiss. "Ingwë can look after himself and I suspect that if we were to send an escort he would feel insulted, thinking we didn’t believe him capable of finding his way home on his own."

"Oh, I suppose you’re right about that," Elindis said, sighing. "Yet, I would feel much better if I knew that my husband was being watched over. There has been too much uncertainty of late to make me feel sanguine about him traveling alone."

"I know how you feel," Indis said. "I was rather upset with Ingwë for not accompanying us the entire way. Still, when all is said and done, he is the High King and no elfling needing his ammë’s permission to go out and play."

"Are you sure about that?" Elindis asked with an arch look and then she and Indis were both laughing while everyone else looked upon them with bemusement. When they had calmed down, Elindis took Indis by the arm. "So, why don’t you get settled and later you can tell us all about Tirion and those terrible Noldor causing so much trouble."

Indis wisely did not contradict her sister-in-law, feeling it would do no good, as she allowed herself to be led into the palace with her nephew and niece and the others who had been on hand to greet her following.

Neither she nor Elindis nor anyone else in their party noticed that Ingoldo did not join them.

****

Ingwë woke to a horrendous headache and at first wondered if he’d gone blind, but no, there was a candle sitting on a table next to him, giving him uncertain illumination. He took stock of his surroundings, not recognizing the room. He was lying on a bed that was sumptuous enough with its blue velvet curtains, and the room was elegantly appointed with furniture made of precious nessamalda, but the walls were bare of any tapestries and there was nothing to tell him whose room this was..

Was he back in Tirion then, he wondered. But somehow he doubted it. This room was unfamiliar and there was something about its construction that did not ring true. The walls were of dressed grey stone rather than the white stone used to build Tirion. So where was he?

He eased himself slowly up, wishing his head would stop pounding, fighting the sick dizzy feeling as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed. He noticed a carafe of water on the table next to the bed and a goblet and realized he was feeling terribly thirsty. Water never tasted so good and the pounding behind his eyes eased enough for him to see straight.

He stood up and walked slowly to one of the two embrasures set in the outer wall, hoping to see something of the outside and get an idea of where he was. Unfortunately, the window was more a narrow gap between the stones than a true window. It was only about two hands wide and he could see little of the outside through it except for some stars. The sight did not cheer him. Looking about, he noticed two doors and went to one which turned out to be a closet in which hooks were set in the walls for hanging clothing, though no clothes hung there now, and just beyond that, separated by a heavy velvet curtain, was a privy.

The other door, when he tried it, was locked and presumed that it led to the outside corridor.

So, he was a prisoner. Ingoldo’s prisoner to be precise. He could guess the reason why and felt himself growing angrier by the minute, both at himself for his naiveté and Ingoldo for his daring. Yet, how did his brother think to keep his whereabouts a secret? As soon as Elindis realized that he was missing she would leave no stone unturned to find him.

Assuming, of course, she was in a position to do so. More than likely, Ingoldo was already making his move to consolidate his power, wresting it away from Elindis. That thought sobered him and he sincerely hoped Ingoldo would not be so foolish as to actually harm Elindis or his children.

"Hello?" he suddenly called out, speaking into the air. "Are there any Maiar about? Can anyone hear me?"

But he was greeted with silence and knew that he was truly alone with his captors. His one hope now lay in finding a way out on his own. He could not depend on anyone knowing where to look for him.

And then he remembered Ingwion, still free, for his son could not have left Alqualondë as yet. Was there a chance that Ingwion would learn that he was missing in time not to be caught in Ingoldo’s web? He had no doubt that his brother would be looking out for Ingwion to return to Vanyamar. But if he were still free....

Ingwë shook his head and then wished that he hadn’t. The room began spinning dangerously and he stumbled back onto the bed, only just making it before he fell into a faint.