The Question of Succession by elennalore

The Question of Succession

Read The Question of Succession

In the midst of darkness, a light appeared. Arafinwë and his people halted and quivered, struck by guilt and fear. A shimmering winged shape of Manwë’s Herald was standing in the middle of the road, and it was within his power to decide if their group was allowed to return to Valinor.

Once, Arafinwë had known Eönwë well, but he wasn’t sure about the nature of their relationship after what Arafinwë had done. He and his people had followed Fëanáro into exile without hesitation, and only Namo Mandos’ dark prophecy had made Arafinwë abandon the march of the Noldor. He found himself suddenly scared before Eönwë, but as the leader of this penitent group, it was his responsibility to step ahead and speak for them. Eönwë’s brightness surrounded him, and Arafinwë cowered in shame. He couldn’t see through his tears. Taking a deep breath, he managed to utter a few rattled words, begging forgiveness for their rash act.

Arafinwë squeezed his eyes shut and waited for Manwë’s Herald to reprimand him for his betrayal, but instead, Eönwë wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly. Shimmering white wings hid Arafinwë from his people’s view, giving them an illusion of privacy as their lips met and Eönwë kissed him with an unexpected passion. When the kiss ended, Arafinwë was left staggering and almost overwhelmed by love. He started to realise that he and his followers were not counted among those under the Doom, and hope flared up in his heart.

Still inside the cocoon of his wings, Arafinwë heard Eönwë murmur in his ear: “I’m happy that you came back, my dear Ingoldo, and for more reasons than one. A problem has arisen with the Noldor, and only you can help us.”

“A problem?” Arafinwë repeated, straightening himself as the white wings opened once more around him. “What kind of problem?”

The world that Arafinwë had known had already collapsed with the destruction of the Trees and his separation from his loved ones. He felt very weary thinking of all the other problems they would still need to face after the catastrophe.

“It’s the problem of the succession,” Eönwë explained. “The faithful Noldor who stayed in Valinor need a king, and until you returned to us, there was no one left of King Finwë’s line. The Valar need to crown you as the next King of the Noldor.”

Arafinwë stood quite still, nonplussed, his mind trying to comprehend Eönwë’s suggestion. As the youngest child of five in a world where death – until now – had been a rare occurrence, he had never even played with the idea of becoming a King one day, and now, this status was offered to him. Only it was more than just an offer; Eönwë made it sound like it was Arafinwë’s duty as the last remaining son of Finwë.

“But what about Findis?” Arafinwë asked at last, his voice cracking with emotion as he thought of his eldest sister who had stayed. She had been the only one of them who had not let her emotions carry her away, the wisest of them all.

“That is just the problem,” Eönwë said in a melancholic voice. “She has proclaimed herself Queen and has even begun to gather support, but for the Valar, that is against the laws of the universe. There can’t be a ruling queen on a throne in Valinor, it should always be King, but until now, they’ve lacked a suitable candidate.”

Arafinwë pondered this information. He knew the law, of course, but after all they had been through, the proper gender of their ruler felt like the smallest of their problems.

“And what is your personal opinion?” he asked Eönwë, suddenly curious to hear it.

“I’m the Elder King’s herald, my opinion doesn’t matter much here,” his friend answered vaguely. “Personally, I’m just glad that you have turned back from that doomed journey.” The Maia sighed deeply before continuing: “Ingoldo, this is Valinor. The laws and customs don’t change in this land overnight, not even in unusual times. Speak to Findis, come to a decision that the Valar can accept. We don’t want any more unrest.”

The journey to Tirion felt unreal, like walking in a dream. He was exhausted, and probably still in a state of shock, seldom speaking to his people, who had followed him without question. The light of Mindon Eldaliéva upon the hill of Túna showed them the way in the darkness, just like moths were pulled towards the light of their lanterns. Eönwë had left their company already, hurrying to report back to Manwë Súlimo that Arafinwë had agreed about a part of the great plan of the Valar at least. He had promised to speak to Findis after his return.

Arafinwë was heartily welcomed at the gates of the Royal Palace. The reaction of the guards felt surprisingly good – he had expected scorn. He needed to hurry, though, for the word of his unexpected return would without doubt reach Eärwen soon. The first thing Arafinwë did after arriving at his private quarters, was to ask a servant to prepare a bath for him. This was quickly done, and soon a tub full of steaming hot water and soap bubbles was waiting for him in his private bathroom. He dismissed the servant and started to comb his hair, which had become a horrible mass of tangles, in front of the mirror. His face looked gaunt in the light of a lantern, and his eyes were hollowed and weary, just as the eyes of his companions had been on the return journey. However, he already felt some of the old vitality returning to his body now that he was back inside the borders of the blessed land.

His thoughts turned to his children, who had adamantly continued their journey to Middle-earth where there were no such blessings available for a weary body. Take good care of them, he whispered the words like a prayer to Lalwen and Nolofinwë, whom they had followed to the darkness.

Finally, Arafinwë was content with the state of his hair. The hot bath looked very inviting, and he quickly undressed and stepped into the bath. The bathroom was filled with lush fragrances and steam; he had forgotten all the little pleasures that life in Valinor provided. He wondered if his children would ever have similar pleasures in their lives now that they had chosen Middle-earth as their new home. The bath that had felt luxurious felt suddenly like a gilded cage.

What have I done? I left them to survive on their own. It didn’t matter that his children had assured him that the decision to go on had been theirs only – Arafinwë carried the guilt within him, anyway.

“You have returned,” a soft voice said, and Arafinwë’s eyes snapped open.

Eärwen shut the bathroom door behind her and rushed to him, then knelt down next to the bathtub. Before Arafinwë could find his voice, her slim arms were hugging him; she didn’t seem to care that she got herself wet and soapy. She was crying, but in the light of a lantern, her face was beautiful, a hopeful reminder that there was still something good left in this world.

“Yes, I have returned – but alone.”

“I know, my love. Eönwë was here, and he told me that you will be coming back – but not the children. How are you?”

“Better now. The journey back was rough, though.”

Eärwen looked at him closely, smiling through her tears. “May I wash your back, darling?” she asked gently. “You may talk to me if you feel like it, or you can stay silent for now, if you prefer that. I already know about the children. I trust in your brother Nolofinwë to take care of them all.”

Arafinwë enjoyed the simple bodily sensations in silence: his wife’s hands touching him, being washed by a soft bath sponge, the delicious smell of bath foam she poured into the water. He was almost falling asleep in the bath, but then he remembered Eönwë’s message again, and his heart became heavy with responsibility. He couldn’t delay telling her the news; Eärwen needed to know.

“The Valar want to make me the King of the Noldor.”

“And what would you want, Ingo?” Eärwen asked after a moment. She had moved on to washing his hair; her fingers were giving his scalp an enjoyable massage. If only they could have just this simple life for ever, but it seemed that the Valar had other plans for them.

“I want to help the people of Tirion in these dark times. Yes, I think it’s even my duty as a brother of the one who started the unrest.”

“You would make a great King,” Eärwen said. Her hands had not stopped; they continued caressing his hair pleasurably. If only she could soothe his fears, too.

“Would I? Eönwë said that Findis has proclaimed herself Queen already. I don’t want to cause another strife just because the Valar can’t imagine an independent woman on the throne.”

“She did it only because someone had to – she was the only one of Finwë’s children left. Speak to her, I’m sure that she’ll understand.”

Arafinwë cried out to ease the pressure on his chest that was becoming unbearable. “How can I ever be a king? The youngest of the five – I’m not made to rule!”

She felt Eärwen’s warmth radiate from her as she spoke to him in a soothing voice: “My own father was the younger one of two brothers. Olwë became King of the Falmari after his brother Elwë had gone astray and vanished. Sometimes you don’t choose these things – they choose you. Besides, it would be an auspicious start to the new era if the new King of the Noldor would have good relations with Alqualondë. I think you should consider it, Ingo.”

“I will speak to Findis,” Arafinwë promised. He could not find any flaws in her reasoning.

* * * * *

“Oh, my darling brother, I can’t believe that you’re back!”

Again, Arafinwë was given a big hug – this time he was held close by his eldest sister Findis. While he had been away, she had moved back to late King Finwë’s private quarters – their childhood home – where their mother Indis lived as well. Findis looked magnificent in her emerald-green dress, her long golden hair was decorated with numerous gems, and she wore a jewelled diadem on her head. She looked very much like a queen, and looking at her splendour, Arafinwë felt a sudden pang of guilt, knowing that he would bring a bitter message to her from the Valar.

Later, in the cosy living room, tea was served to the two of them and their mother Indis who had hurried to meet Arafinwë as soon as she had learned about her son’s return. Arafinwë took his time to tell them the whole story of their exile after the Darkening, not leaving any grim detail out of it. He described his journey all the way to the turning point where he had said goodbye to Lalwen, Nolofinwë, and his children. Some of it Findis knew already, and Arafinwë suspected that Eönwë had visited their household before him as well. Indis, still grieving the violent death of Finwë, stayed mostly silent, but Findis asked many questions about the tragedy of Alqualondë, and many more about the last days Arafinwë had spent with Nolo and Lalwen. He told everything he could remember about those dark days before Námo Mandos had set a grim Doom upon them, and how he had turned back home while his siblings and children had still continued their journey towards the planned meeting place with Fëanáro’s ships.

“They are probably on the other side of the great sea by now,” Arafinwë said with a pang of sorrow and longing. “There’s no way to know. I hope they’ll be safe there.”

“Which brings us to the question of succession,” Findis said, straightening herself up.

Her noble and regal demeanour stunned Arafinwë, and the words he had originally intended to say stuck in his throat. Findis didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Even as a child, she had always taken care of things for her younger siblings. Once again, their rash actions had made her take the leadership role to get them out of trouble. Arafinwë was suddenly ashamed of the mess he had got them into by leaving – and by turning back, thus putting Findis into this impossible situation.

“You will be a great Queen, Findis,” he declared, dismissing the short speech he had prepared. “You have my support.”

Findis looked faintly amused. “I’m sure that Eönwë didn’t ask you to say those words to me.”

So, she knew about the reaction of the Valar already. Arafinwë wasn’t really surprised. Perhaps Eönwë had had a personal message to Findis, as well.

“I heard that the Noldor support you as their Queen. That’s wonderful, Findis; Finwë would have been proud of you.”

This made their mother give a sob, and Arafinwë and Findis exchanged glances.

“Father was strongly supportive of everyone in this family,” Findis said quickly, “but the Valar will always have the final word here; it’s the way of Valinor. And they don’t want a woman on the throne, at least not one without a King.”

Arafinwë let out a long sigh. “This appears to be yet another case of trying to interpret Eru’s obscure thoughts. I’m sure that the Music wasn’t meant to go into this much detail. Perhaps Lord Manwë could have another appointment with Eru Ilúvatar and discuss things through before deciding that a Queen can’t rule alone.”

Findis laughed out aloud. “Ingo, you know that things don’t work this way here. If I’d wanted to really change things, I would have chosen to go into exile with the others.”

Arafinwë thought of Artanis, his only daughter, who had made just this choice, and for the first time, he started to understand why she had so strongly felt that she had to leave Valinor behind.

“The Noldor have accepted me as their Queen because there was no other option – until now,” Findis continued while Arafinwë was still musing her words. “They will love you as their new King. They desperately need someone who can heal the rift between us and the Teleri. You, with your good relations with King Olwë, are a logical choice. No wonder the Valar have chosen you, and, as you know, nothing happens here without the blessing of the Valar.”

“I will pay a visit to Olwë the soonest, if he allows me to come. I want to make amends to him for what we did in Alqualondë, even though I didn’t draw a sword myself. If I am to be the King of the Noldor, that would be my first deed.”

His words made Findis laugh again. “You’re already thinking about being the King. I knew it – you will be a perfect choice for everyone, little brother.”

“You will, indeed, Ingoldo,” Indis added with a sad smile. “Things are going to get better now.”

Arafinwë stood still, watching the two women in front of him, and suddenly it felt like they were offering him an invisible crown. It came with a heavy responsibility, but Findis’ words, and Eärwen’s, too, had finally convinced him that it was the only way. He gave a solemn nod of approval and instantly sensed their relief.

“Now that we’ve decided on the matter, I will move with Mother to Valmar,” Findis said. “She won’t be healed in these halls, where too many memories haunt her, and she misses the City of Bells. She only stayed here as my support, but now neither of us are needed, for you have Eärwen on your side.” Suddenly her eyes twinkled in a very mischievous way. “And you have Eönwë, too, I guess, unless I have horribly misread the signs.”

Arafinwë blushed at the mention of his other lover. “No, you have not.”

“Good for you!” Findis announced happily. “Well, as the question of succession has finally been settled, I have just one question left: Will you stay for dinner?”