A Sense of History: Straight Road
The next in a series of articles about ships passing to and from the West, Simon uses "The Fall of Númenor" to attempt to arrive at Tolkien's reading of the exordium to "Beowulf."
Finrod went down to Alqualondë a few days later to greet his grandfather, his mother and the returning Teleri fleet. By that time, he had almost entirely resolved that his grandfather’s decision was, if not the one he would have made himself, at least a reasonable and justifiable one.
He waited patiently for his mother and her crew to stow the sails and sweep the decks and greeted her warmly with a hug when she finally disembarked.
“Are you staying with Grandfather tonight, or coming back to Tirion?”
She gave him a long look, clear blue eyes almost uncomfortably penetrating. “I’ll accompany you back to Tirion, I think. I have news to tell you on the way.”
“Oh?” Finrod gave her his most cheerful and unrevealing smile.
She frowned. “If you were planning to lecture me on how I should have stayed there...”
“No!” he said, turned to her and took her hand. “I’m glad you are here and safe, honestly I am. I would have gone back, if I’d had the choice, but I’m under no illusions about the danger.”
She sighed and squeezed his hand before she let it go. “Anairë didn’t lecture me either. I’m starting to wish someone would, so that I could argue with them.”
“It’s rather unusual for you, of all people, to go looking for arguments.”
She looked up at him and her brow crinkled quizzically. “If I argued about it, perhaps I could convince myself. I left your sister behind in Middle-earth.”
“She’s well then, and free?” Finrod felt as if a great weight had fallen from his shoulders. “I was afraid...”
She frowned, puzzled. “But we knew she was still alive. If she had come to Mandos, we would certainly have been informed.”
“I was afraid she might be in Angband,” Finrod admitted in a low voice. “The Enemy seeks out the Noldor as thralls. To work in his mines and furnaces.”
Eärwen’s eyes went wide with shock. “You didn’t mention that before.”
“I’m fairly sure I did, you know,” Finrod objected. “Perhaps not in quite those words, but I distinctly remember talking quite a bit about the Enemy and his Noldor slaves, and general unpleasantness. I went and spoke to the Valar about it with Father and Aunt Nerdanel, if you recall.”
“I suppose you did,” Eärwen agreed slowly. “I just hadn’t thought that Nerwen...” She shook her head in distress.
“But she’s well, you say?” He waved to a stable-hand, who led out the horse he had ridden down from Tirion, and the palfrey that was Eärwen’s favorite.
“Yes, I think so. She met Anairë on the battlefield, and Anairë brought her to see me before we sailed. She sent you her love. ” They mounted and rode up towards the Tirion road. “She goes by the name Galadriel, now, did you know?”
“She did mention it, last time I saw her. The name was a gift to her from Celeborn, I believe.”
Eärwen rubbed absently at her palfrey’s neck as they turned onto the wide sweep of turf that led up to the city of the Noldor “We didn’t have long to talk,but she told me a little about Celeborn. I wish I could have met him.”
“I think you’d like him,” Finrod told her. “He’s a sensible type. Not as wild as she is, but he really is absolutely besotted with her, of course.”
“Is he?” She laughed, but not happily. “She thinks he’s wonderful, too. And of course, he’s entirely committed to Beleriand, and to the War, and that means so is she. She wouldn’t consider coming home with me.”
Sometimes it was astonishing the things that Mother, with her keen eyes, managed not to see. “Did you really, honestly expect her to agree to come home? She, of all people, has always longed for new worlds to explore, you must remember that about her.”
She frowned. “Yes, of course I do, Finrod! But still, my daughter, my little golden Nerwen, going out to war with the Enemy. I hope this Celeborn will look after her.”
“More likely she’ll look after him. And Father is there, after all, not to mention his host and practically all the Vanyar.”
“But not me,” Eärwen said, and sighed. “Not me, not her grandfather, not her uncles. There she stood, tall and strong in armour with a sword at her side, and I longed to see her happy beside her love, instead of grim-faced and ready for battle. And so, I do wish someone would tell me I should have stayed, so that I could argue with them, and remember all the reasons why I thought I should leave her behind, and come home.”
“We’ll make a Noldo of you yet,” Finrod said bracingly. “This sudden desire for an argument is terribly promising.”
Eärwen laughed wryly. “May the Valar turn such a fate aside!” she said. “Come. My head is all of a whirl. Let us have a gallop, and perhaps the wild wind will blow my worries away.