The Redemption of the Noldor by Cirdan

Chapter 3

"I must thank you again for your assistance in the rebuilding of the Havens," Cirdan said. As always, in spite of his conscious use of modern Sindarin, Cirdan's accent was archaic and a pleasure to hear. Even the older Elves in Tirion didn't speak in such a way. The Falathrim were like a long lost civilization, and the regular inhabitants of the Falas were isolated from the other Elves of Beleriand behind their stony walls. They even considered themselves Telerin rather than Sindarin. And Cirdan was the lord of these unique Sea Elves.

"It is my pleasure, Lord Cirdan," Finrod said. Though he was considered very fair of voice among his people, his voice always seemed less fair than that of Cirdan's. Cirdan spoke like the sound of the Sea in a shell--melodic, calming, and simply beautiful. They strolled along the piers of Brithombar, and the morning sun lit the white foam on the waves of the Sea.

"The women of the Falas are overjoyed to see so many proud and noble Noldorin men," Cirdan said. "Many of our men were killed in the First Battle, in the days when we were ill-armed and attacked unexpectedly by Morgoth. We are grateful for the Noldor's protection, and I suspect that this is part of what makes Noldorin men so attractive." Cirdan smiled, and his eyes shined like bright stars. Finrod remembered Amarie of the Vanyar, who had refused to leave Aman with him, and wondered if Cirdan somehow knew about his heartbreak.

"You do the Noldor too much kindness in your high praise," Finrod said. After all, the Noldor were not just saviors of the Elves of Middle Earth. Cirdan was the close kin of Olwe of Alqualonde and would not forgive the Noldor if he knew about the theft of the white ships and the kinslaying. Finrod could barely forgive himself, though he had not been present for the crimes.

"Nay, the praise is justly deserved. I have heard such high words of Aranwe of the House of Fingolfin from my own kinswoman," Cirdan said. His smile brightened, and he winked at Finrod. "She's long held out on choosing a husband, but I suspect that problem has been fixed now."

"Is it so wrong to be single?" Finrod said. He was suddenly annoyed. Finrod had only met Amarie a few years before the Flight of the Noldor, and before, he'd constantly heard such advice from his elders. But Maedhros and Fingon were both unwed as well. Finrod's situation was not unusual, but it was treated as if it were because the natural course of life for an Elda was marriage.

Cirdan laughed and that laughter utterly dissipated Finrod's frustrations. "You are speaking to the wrong person. I, too, am unmarried, and I am much older than you, my Prince." The laughter was eaten by the quiet roar of the waves. Cirdan looked out at the Sea towards the West. The sun was reaching noon, and his fine, silver hair was alight with glimmering light. His normally bright eyes were now clouded with a touch of sadness.

"I have long wished to ask you of my kinsmen in the Blessed Realm," Cirdan admitted. "I know that you are of the House of Olwe. Of the Noldorin Princes, you would know the most about the Teleri." Finrod's heart leapt, and his tongue clung to the roof of his mouth. Here, on the Shores of Belegaer, no one would hear his confessions save Cirdan, but Finrod did not know if he could tell his kinsman about the Teleri. One of Olwe's sons had been slain; the others were all wounded. What could Finrod say of his mother's kin that would not cause Cirdan to utterly reject the Noldor? "But in truth, above all, I wished to ask about a woman."

"A woman?" The thoughts of the Kinslaying crashed like a great wave, and just as quickly, it was replaced by a flood of memories of Amarie.

"See there?" Cirdan pointed out to the Sea. "That was where I saw the last glimpse of Tol Eressea before it disappeared. I have heard that the Two Trees are dead now. Many forget why we first traveled forth from Cuivienen, or Nen Echui, as the Sindar call it. I cannot. I was there when Ingwe, Finwe, and Elwe first spoke of the Light of the Blessed Realm. In the days immediately after the departure of Olwe's people from these shores, I hoped that she would wait for me, but that was when I thought I would soon join her. But now, I hope that she has found someone else. It's selfish to expect or want her to still be single after all these years."

"Do you really believe that?" Finrod asked. He had to admit to himself that he was hoping that the war on Morgoth would soon be over and that he could be reunited with Amarie. They would wed, and the nightmare would be in the past. But even if the war did not end soon, he wished that Amarie would wait for his return.

"In old Quenya, there were two words for love: caritas and cupiditas. Caritas is selfless love; cupiditas is selfish love. When I despaired on these shores and realized that I'd been forsaken, I lost sight of my love, and it became selfish in nature. I wanted her to exist for me. But who am I to withhold happiness from her? If she is satisfied remembering our tender love by the shores of Middle Earth before we were separated, then she may well be single still. But if her heart turns to another and they wed, I will not be bitter or feel betrayed. In my love for her, I wish for her to be as happy as possible. Before, it was believed that only selfless love was true love." Cirdan smiled wryly. "Well, but I'm taking the high and mighty outlook on my relationship. In truth, my love for her has faded over time and has been replaced by my love for the Sea. But at least my memory of her is thus true love rather than bitter, selfish love."

"I wish I were so enlightened," Finrod said. How could he give up on Amarie when their separation was still so fresh in his heart? If she loved him, she would not look to others, and he, in turn, did not intend to find a Sindarin wife. Finrod took a seat at the end of the pier. There were no white swan ships docked at the stone pier, which was just as well because the swan ships of the Falathrim were all too similar to those of the Teleri in Aman. Cirdan undid the rope braid in the side of his silver hair. He sat beside Finrod silently for several moments.

"You deceive yourself," Cirdan said at last. His voice was soft, barely a whisper amidst the sounds of the ebbing waters. "You do not desire caritas. I hear it in your voice. Indeed, you hardly believe you deserve any love, selfish or selfless." Cirdan put a hand on Finrod's shoulder. His touch was gentle. The emotional tides that had been ebbing since Finwe's death and the Flight of the Noldor now filled like a river behind a dam. "I do not fully understand all of the sadness of the Noldor. I perceive the great weight of the Fate of the Noldor that has shadowed all of your people, and it pains me to see you and your people suffer so. Regardless of the wrongs that you have done or will do, I will love you as I do all the Eldar. That love is unconditional. Though your deeds may grieve me, my love for you will not change. For love to be successful, it must always be unconditional, and I suspect it is all the more true when one loves a Noldo."

The theft, the murders, the separation from his parents all crashed down upon Finrod. He felt the dam burst, and all his memories flooded forth at once. Rivers of tears fell from his eyes, and his sobs were caught and lost in the gentle winds of the Sea. Cirdan now placed his arm over Finrod's shoulders. The Sea Elf pulled the young prince to his shoulder. Finrod's warm tears wet Cirdan's raiment. Cirdan wrapped his other arm around Finrod and began to gently rock him to and fro like the waves of the Sea. The older Elf whispered soft words of reassurance into Finrod's ear. Cirdan's gentleness only made Finrod cry more bitterly. Cirdan had said that love was unconditional, but how could that be true? Cirdan could not imagine deeds as evil and dark as those done by the Noldor. He would not love a kinslayer. Cirdan held Finrod and comforted him. When Finrod's tears were dry, his heart was still heavy, and he stayed motionless and nestled in Cirdan's arms. His head rested against the Shipwright's shoulder. Cirdan did not draw away. Only when Finrod moved away did Cirdan stop embracing the younger Elf.

"I'm sorry for my outburst," Finrod said at last. He was surprised to see that the Sun had moved across the sky and was already half set. The colors of the sunset were magnificent on the water and sparse clouds in the sky, but Cirdan's silver hair, ablaze with color, was even lovelier than the beauty of Arda.

"You don't need to apologize. I only hope that I have been able to alleviate your sorrow." The colors of the sky reflected in Cirdan's soft gray eyes. Cirdan's hand still held Finrod's arm, and that small physical contact made Finrod feel as if he was not so detestable. "I know more of the crimes of the Noldor than you may believe, for I am deep in the counsels of Ulmo and Osse. I know of the theft of the swan ships, the Kinslaying at Alqualonde, and the burning at Losgar that forced the host of Fingolfin to either cross the Grinding Ice or turn back in shame." Finrod opened his mouth to speak, but Cirdan gently covered his mouth with his fingertips. "You are the first and only person to whom I have told of my knowledge. I will keep the secrets of the Noldor. Have I not been a friend of the Noldor since your arrival despite my cursed knowledge? Yay, I have been. I meant what I said. Despite the evil deeds that you and your people have done, I forgive you and accept you as you are. Do not dwell on the past. Look to the future and do great deeds of good to redeem the past wrongs." Finrod stared into Cirdan's eyes as the last rays of the sun disappeared into the west. The sky was a darkening blue, but Cirdan's eyes were still soft and bright.

"She must have been very lucky," Finrod said.

"Who?"

"The woman whom you loved."

Cirdan chuckled softly. "No, she is lucky that she departed on the Ferry and saw the Light of the Two Trees before their end. If she'd stayed with me, she would've never seen the Light. Her luck changed, and now she is undoubtedly happily wed to another."

"What was her name?" Finrod asked, but his tone said that Cirdan need not answer if he chose not to.

"I called her Feafalas, for she was born by the shores of Middle Earth during the time when the Teleri waited for the return of Ulmo with the Ferry Island. But to others, she was known most commonly as Hithwen."

"Then you may be comforted to know that she did marry. In Aman, she is known as the Lady of Alqualonde, for her husband is none other than Olwe, and she is the mother of my mother Earwen."

Cirdan smiled softly in the failing sunlight. "I am indeed comforted, for I know Olwe and know that he must love her well."

"So you did mean what you said."

"Of course."

"As for me, my love is Amarie of the Golden Vanyar," Finrod said. The last of the sun slipped away. The moon was not out, but the stars above them were clear and bright. "And I will try to learn to love her selflessly. For if I do return to Aman, it will not be for many years, and it would not be fair to have her bereft of love for such a long time."

They say out on the pier for several hours of the night and watched the waves of the Sea under starlight. Then, at last, they returned to Brithombar.