Laurië Lassi – Golden Leaves by Esteliel

Folly

"Against stupidity the gods themselves contend in vain."
Friedrich Schiller

Write a story or poem or create artwork that illustrates this quotation.

Folly

Finrod's eyes met his over the cup of wine. “Some of my people came to me. Some of those who survived sailed eventually, a handful of those who died were returned to us from the Halls. Only a very few begged for a position in my household.”

“They are ashamed,” Glorfindel said. He eyed Finrod, who was still as lovely as a calm, clear spring day. Who could betray him, he thought, shaking his head. It was still as inconceivable as when he had first heard the news.

“Yes. They betrayed me and left me to die. But that is the past. I've taken on those who asked my forgiveness, but many cannot forgive themselves yet. And who knows what might have happened had Celegorm not managed to turn my own people against me...”

Glorfindel looked at Finrod, tried to imagine what could have brought his own people to refuse him their fealty. He could not imagine it. Crowned or not, Finrod demanded respect, and more – he engendered love in all those who met him.

“Sometimes I wondered if I should have sworn myself to you instead of Turgon. Would that have changed something, do you think? But he was my friend long before you were my lover, and we shared the same vision. And he was a good king, until...”

“Until he too was doomed by pride, as so many of us were. No, Turgon needed you. You saved his daughter; his grandson. I knew I would find my death, leaving no heir behind to inherit my realm. And here the two of us sit together once more.”

Glorfindel smiled. “Yes. I wish it had been different, but we cannot change the past. Perhaps you are right. We did the best we could; there is no use in wondering what else could have been. Still... if ever Celegorm is returned from Mandos, rest assured that I will give him a good beating for your sake.”

Finrod laughed. “Perhaps... or perhaps I will beat you to it. Do you remember how he brought you to me, that day so long ago? I find that I still cannot hate him, no matter what he did. But he does deserve a good beating for what he did. Folly, thou conquerest, and I must yield! Against stupidity the very gods themselves contend in vain.”

Glorfindel snorted with laughter at Finrod's declamation. “You are turning the story of your own death into a play, aren't you? Ah, Finrod – you will never change!”

Chapter End Notes

Folly, thou conquerest, and I must yield! Against stupidity the very gods themselves contend in vain.

--Schiller, The Maid of Orleans, III 6