The Advancement of Learning by Cloaked Eagle

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Chapter 2: Children of the King

 

Disclaimer: Parmiel is my own character. The events herein are my own, as is the 'altered' history given in Valimar. Anything else is Tolkien's.

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Chapter Two: Children of the King

Parmiel walked back into the Library of Tirion to find Findaráto already there. She almost turned around right there, as she had so nearly done several times on her walk to the Library. No, she chided herself. I am a scholar. My role is to learn. No one has ever asked Findaráto himself about his time in Heceldamar, not in recorded history. My teacher will be so jealous.

"You're wasting your time, Ingold," said a female voice from behind her. "She's only using you to get fame and fortune."

The young Vanya span around to see a woman leaning on the doorframe. She had deep gold hair and piercing eyes, and her face had a strong enough resemblance to that of Findaráto that she guessed they were related. Hoping that her assumption was correct, she said, "Lady Artanis, I am not."

The other smiled. "No, Parmiel, I don't believe you are." As the scholar stared, the woman added, "No, my brother did not tell me your name – in fact, he didn't find it out himself. But he did ask me to come and make sure you really were who you say you are."

Parmiel frowned. "But why would I lie about it?"

Artanis smiled, and looked at Findaráto. "The young people don't know how lucky they are, do they? When we were as young as you," she continued, turning her attention back to Parmiel, "we had Morgoth walking around. We understood the concept of deceit – didn't our uncle even attempt to deceive the Valar themselves?"

"Yes," said Findaráto, "he was making swords in secret, and pretending that all the shields and suchlike were merely for display."

Parmiel looked between the two of them, somewhat lost. "Morgoth is Melkor, I know that, but who is your uncle?"

Artanis stared at the girl in obvious disbelief. "You don't know that? Ai Manwë, do they teach you nothing?"

Parmiel looked affronted. "Of course they do! Findaráto and Artanis, along with Angaráto, Aicanáro and... er, their other brother, were the children of Finwë Arafinwë, who now rules as King in Tirion. But the only brother I remember him having was Finwë Nolofinwë, and he never did anything except what the Valar wished."

The two Noldor exchanged a quick glance, and then Findaráto said, carefully, "You do know why we all went to Beleriand, right?"

"Of course I do. Melkor and that spider killed the Two Trees and then fled over the Sea, so Manwë sent Nolofinwë with most of the Noldor over after him, with Arafinwë remaining behind to rule Tirion while they were gone."

Findaráto blinked, and Parmiel got the feeling she had said something wrong. This sensation was heightened when the former King of Nargothrond asked, with a carefully blank expression, "Does the name Fëanor – or Fëanaro – mean anything to you?"

The scholar thought for a moment. "Wasn't he that jewel-smith who made the Evening Star? I don't recall their being much about him in our library."

Findaráto nodded slowly, and then looked over at his sister. "We've got a lot of work to do, haven't we?"

"Yes, you do," Artanis replied. "I'm only here to make sure she isn't another one of those spies Grandmother occasionally sets on you – which she isn't – so I'm going now. I have important things to be doing. Mára mesta, Findaráto."

"Namarië, Altariel," replied Findaráto amiably. "Say hello to your husband for me before you do all those important things." Artanis blushed, for some reason Parmiel could not understand, but suspected was a long-running joke, and walked away. Findaráto watched her leave.

"Lord Findaráto," asked Parmiel hesitantly, "what was that name you called her, Altariel?"

"What? Oh." The former king looked up at the ceiling for a moment in thought, and then said, "Each of us who went to Endor has several names, some of them in Quenya and some in the language of the elves who lived there before we arrived. Her husband gave her the name Galadriel in their language, of which Altariel is a translation. Er... each of us has preferred named which we go by, too. She prefers either Artanis or Galadriel, whereas I tend to use Finrod or Ingold. It's... complicated." He shrugged, and then quickly looked at her to make sure she wasn't confused.

Parmiel frowned. "But your name is Findaráto," she pointed out. He sighed.

"Yes, it is. But I find that even now, twelve thousand and however many years on, I prefer to think of myself as Finrod Felagund of Nargothrond than as Findaráto Ingoldo of Tirion. It's a lifestyle choice, I guess."

"Oh." The scholar looked at the floor for a moment, and then asked, "So you'd prefer me to call you Finrod?"

He looked at her sharply, as if making sure she wasn't mocking him, and then nodded. "It would be nicer, yes. Especially if we're going to be talking about the Rebellion and the Wars in Beleriand."

Parmiel nodded, and then remembered something. "What did you mean earlier? About having a lot of work to do?"

"Ah. Yes." Finrod looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then said, "To put it rather bluntly, what you were taught about the incidents resulting from the Death of the Trees is the edited version." At her blank stare, he shook his head. "Look, have you ever heard the Noldolantë?"

"The Fall of the Noldor? But the Noldor haven't fallen, have they?"

Finrod looked around, making sure they were alone, and then said, "Yes, we did. Over twelve and a half thousand years ago." Then, taking a deep breath, he began to sing.

When the song came to an end, Parmiel was surprised to find tears streaming down her face. Drying her eyes on her sleeve, she asked, "And that's... true? The Oath, the Kinslaying, all of it?"

Finrod nodded sadly. "All of it, and much more. We did... terrible things. And much of it was the fault of Fëanor and his sons. It... we should never have followed them. We should all have turned back with my father when Namo spoke."

"Namo? Lord Namo spoke to you?"

"Well, we think it was him." Finrod thought for a moment, and then said, "He definitely had the same sort of presence as he did in the Halls. But yes, he made a prophecy up in Araman, and my father repented and returned. The rest of us went on, to our lasting grief."

Parmiel blinked. "I, I never knew. Why isn't this in the books?"

"It is," replied Finrod, "if you know where to look. But it seems that those books have been removed from the libraries in Valimar, and that those who were there to hear about it directly have been instructed – or have decided – not to speak of it. Maybe there's a good reason, something to do with preventing irrational hatred of the Noldor, I don't know..." His voice trailed off, into silence and thought.

Parmiel looked at the elf who had been her idol ever since she had first heard his name. She didn't want to ask the next question, but she had to know. "Sir... were you at the Kinslaying?"

Finrod shook his head. "No. I wasn't. I was with my father, and we got there afterwards." Then he closed his eyes, and added, quietly, "My sister was."

The impact of this staggered Parmiel. "Lady Artanis... was at Alqualondë?"

"She was," replied Finrod, and the young Vanya could see a great sadness in his eyes. "She was there, but she has never told me whether she took part, or on what side. Her mind is closed to me if I try to discover that knowledge, but I fear..." He closed his eyes. "There is great sadness and pain in her when anyone speaks of it. I fear she did something terrible that night, and that the blood of innocents stains her hands still."

Parmiel bit her lip. "I will not mention it while she is around, then. I do not wish for the Lady Artanis to dislike me, for if I am to complete a true history of Nargothrond – a project which I now think I am fated to attempt – I might need to ask questions of her."

"You will that," replied Finrod, and then shook his head. "I'm sorry, but talking about the Fall is difficult for me. Could we perhaps resume this conversation this evening?" Parmiel nodded, and Finrod smiled. "I thank you, ah... Parmiel, was it?" The young Vanya nodded again. "Parmiel, then. Farewell for now." He rose from his chair, and left without another word. Sitting in the vacated seat, Parmiel pulled out a pen and began to take notes on what she had learnt.

Behind a nearby shelf, Galadriel bowed her head. "So she has learned of it," the Noldo woman whispered to herself. "And she will write her book, and all of Eldamar shall know my shame." A sad smile crept onto her face. "Just like old times back at Mithrim." And with that, the Lady of Lothlórien walked silently out of the library, towards her home and her husband.

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Chapter End Notes

 

I did not originally intend to make this story anything more than a single chapter, but, well, I changed my mind. I hope this one was as good as the last.

Any Quenya used is translated here, except where it was translated in the previous chapter:

Ingold/Ingoldo – Finrod's mother-name

Melkor – Morgoth

Angaráto – Angrod

Aicanáro – Aegnor

(Finwë) Arafinwë – Finarfin

(Finwë) Nolofinwë – Fingolfin

Fëanaro – Fëanor

Mára mesta – Goodbye

Namarië – Farewell

Altariel – Galadriel

Noldolantë – The Fall of the Noldor, song by Maglor

Namo – Mandos