An Act of Faith by Himring

An Act of Faith

Finarfin had sent for her.

She appeared promptly, but seemed unhurried, not flustered nor overly concerned by the summons of her king--if indeed she regarded him as her king, of which he was not quite certain.

Finarfin studied her. On the small side for one of the Noldor, but wiry and, he guessed, stronger than she looked. He did not know her well, owing to the divisions in the House of Finwe. He was not sure whether he had a rebellion on his hands. But perhaps not--for, if so, it seemed a strangely private way to go about it...

'Sire?' said Curufin's wife, prompting him politely, and he realized he had let the silence go on for too long.

'Vardilme,' he began, 'it has been reported to me that you have taken up training with the sword.'

She was waiting for him to go on, it seemed, as if the statement required no comment.

'I do not understand,' said Finarfin. 'After the horror of Alqualonde, even those among us-- those who are now left in Tirion--who were versed in uses of the sword have stopped, dropping all practice of any kind and trying to demonstrate to the rest of Valinor that not all Noldor are quarrelsome, violent and bloodthirsty. You, I had heard, fell out with your husband when he gave your son a sword and began teaching him how to fight. How can it be that you who rejected that weapon even before it was amply demonstrated what damage it could do are now taking it up when the rest of us are leaving off?'

Vardilme seemed to hesitate. Perhaps after all she was not as calm as she had appeared?

'I want to be ready,' she said finally, 'when we go to fetch my son.'

It took Finarfin a moment to process what he had heard.

'Please explain, Vardilme,' he said then. 'What do you mean?'

Surely she realized they could not leave--not any more, now less than ever?

Vardilme took a deep breath.

'One day,' she said, quickly, forcefully, 'the Valar will go to war in Middle-earth against Morgoth. Then I will follow in their train and fetch home my son. I want to make sure I will be a fighter worth taking along--so that they won't deny me--and I will carve my son out with my own hands from among the forces of the enemy if I have to.'

Finarfin was stunned. Had she not heard of the Prophecy of the North?

But then he saw that she had, that perhaps that was precisely the motivation for her preposterous plan: an act of faith that one day, against all odds, the prophecy would be revoked and her skill with the sword would be required.

He looked over her shoulder, unseeing--he was remembering Araman and thinking of his own children--all gone, all swept up and away into the howling storm that was the Flight of the Noldor. 

'Are you ordering me to stop?' asked Vardilme, finally.

'No,' said Finarfin.

And then he asked: 'Will you let me train with you?'

Chapter End Notes

I borrowed the name for Curufinwe's wife from a Numenorean princess mentioned in Unfinished Tales. I thought the princess would not mind sharing.