The Redemption of the Noldor by Cirdan

Chapter 6

Cirdan and a host of his people came forth from the Havens of the Falas to the pools of Ivrin to celebrate the victory of the Dagor Aglareb, the Glorious Battle. He looked forward to seeing Finrod at the place where they'd first met. Cirdan brought gifts for the three Houses of the Noldorin Princes in gratitude of their protection of Beleriand and in celebration of the Glorious Battle, but Cirdan had a personal gift for Finrod Felagund, who was closest of the Princes in friendship with Cirdan.

The Princes of the Noldor wore fine silks and jewelry with bright gems from the Blessed Realm. They were noble, proud, and worthy of admiration. Many tales of valor and strength were exchanged and sung by the minstrels. Maglor's performance was exceptionally excellent, but Finrod's singing and harping was also very pleasing to the ear. Finrod, like all the Noldor, was intoxicated by the thorough victory, and the shadow of past sins temporarily departed from Finrod's being. Finrod's close friend Turgon also put aside his grievances for the moment and danced beside the sons of Feanor without any signs of his grudge against them. Fingolfin boasted that save by treason among themselves, Morgoth could never again burst from the leaguer of the Eldar nor come upon them unexpectedly. Cirdan believed that the Elves could withstand Morgoth as long as the Noldor remained united, but he did not so readily believe all the boasts at the high feast.

Cirdan didn't have a chance to speak to Finrod in private until the third night of celebrating. They'd exchanged courteous words and danced together, but they'd simply been unable to converse more seriously in private. Cirdan didn't mind the delay. He'd been feasting on the sight of a happy Finrod for much of the merry-making. Now, Cirdan and Finrod, at last alone, walked around the pools of Ivrin under the silver moon and stars. Even at night, Finrod's hair was bright golden, as if he had captured the very sunlight in his tresses. Only his sister Galadriel's golden hair was more brilliant. At some unsaid agreement, they stopped their leisurely stroll and settled by the waters of Ivrin.

"This gift," Cirdan said, for he'd spoken of it earlier, "is not really for your deeds in the Glorious Battle. It is more like a continuation of a conversation that we return to from time to time." He pulled out his lyre from his knapsack. The lyre was made from a great, luminous shell. Cirdan ran his fingertips across the silver strings, tuned the lyre, and then began to sing about the Unbegotten and their blissful love, an echo of Iluvatar's love for the Elves. The theme then turned to the Begotten, who were not so lucky as to have a predetermined spouse. From this freedom to choose a spouse came the division of the word love into caritas and cupiditas. Then, in the third theme, Cirdan sang about his unconditional love for Finrod. Finrod's breath caught. Cirdan gazed into Finrod's eyes as he sang about caritas, unselfish love. Cirdan's song recounted their first meeting by the pools of Ivrin, when Cirdan had been drawn to Finrod's charm and charisma. Cirdan sang of their later meeting by the shores of Beleriand, where Finrod had opened his heart fully to Cirdan. Cirdan had thenceforth always wanted to help ease Finrod's pain, and somewhere along the way, Cirdan had come to love Finrod more deeply than the love between two friends. In the music that Cirdan sang and the visions that he evoked, there was no misunderstanding the shift of love from one of kinship and friendship to the higher and closer love that was reserved for a man and his spouse. It was not a romantic love, per se; it was an intense, unselfish love that mirrored the love of the Valar for the Children of Iluvatar. Cirdan's song slowly faded in the night, and the notes of his love lingered in the air.

"I don't know what to say," Finrod said at last. He reached out and took Cirdan's left hand. Cirdan put aside the lyre and took Finrod's other hand. "I'm touched to know that you feel so deeply for me. I don't understand how you could love me as a man does his wife, but I must confess that my heart still yearns for Amarie of the Vanyar."

"I know." Cirdan squeezed Finrod's hands. "You don't have to apologize for that. I sang to you about my love only so that you would understand my feelings for you and know that you have no reason to doubt your own value. Even your brothers don't' know about your most personal doubts about yourself. When you are alone and haunted by your past, remember my song and the love that I hold for you. I give it freely, unconditionally, and no matter what you have done or will do, regardless of whether or not you return my feelings, my love for you will not change. The spirit of the Noldor is high right now, but if Morgoth should ever break the Siege of Angband, we may not have a chance to meet again ere the end, and you will need something to hold onto when the shadows darken your heart."

"Thank you, Cirdan." Finrod leaned forward and kissed Cirdan on the cheek. "I understand more about unrestricted love now, for I do not feel burdened by the knowledge of your feelings for me. I will treasure your love and friendship." They sat by the calm waters under the starlight for most of the night. Cirdan was reminded of Cuivienen, the Waters of Awakening, for here, by the pools of Ivrin, his love had finally awakened.