114: Reconciliation

By five minutes to midnight Ingwë’s court was assembled and waiting for the drama they knew was about to unfold. There was an air of excitement and expectation that bordered on the prurient. Glorfindel muttered an oath or two as he waited to be summoned, being careful not to invoke either Eru, the Valar or even Ingwë’s name for fear of having Eönwë show up with that damnable Book of his. Finrod stood patiently beside him, smiling faintly at his brother’s nervousness. Sador was there as well, looking unaccountably calm and cool. His only reaction to Glorfindel’s muttering was to pour himself another goblet of wine from the sideboard in the antechamber to the throne room where the three were congregated.

"Cursing isn’t going to help any, Glorfindel," he said mildly, taking a sip of the wine and smacking his lips appreciatively. "Take a deep breath and remember that you are a Lord of the House of the Golden Flower and brother to a Prince of Eldamar."

"They’re like vultures out there," Glorfindel snarled, "just waiting to see me falter so they can pick my bones clean."

"Nice imagery," Finrod said drolly. Glorfindel gave him a sour look and shook his head. He was saved from having to actually respond to Finrod’s words by the appearance of the chamberlain beckoning to the ellyn to follow him. Glorfindel unconsciously straightened, suddenly going pale. Finrod stood in front of him, brushing off nonexistent lint from the ellon’s tunic while Sador put his goblet down and stood at Glorfindel’s back, rubbing it gently as a way of calming him.

"Take a deep breath," Finrod told him. "Remember, in spite of appearances, we’re all family here. Ingwë loves you, Glorfindel. He wants only to acknowledge that love before others."

"He’s going about it in a funny way," Glorfindel muttered with a scowl.

"He’s going about it the only way you left open," Sador said, clapping Glorfindel on the shoulder as he moved to face him. "I’m wondering if I wasn’t the only one released from Mandos sooner than I should have been. Your behavior of late has been most erratic, my brother. I can’t keep up." He gave Glorfindel a brilliant smile and Finrod chuckled.

"You may have the right of it, Sador," he said, taking Glorfindel’s arm and pulling him towards the door. "Come, let’s get this over with so we can enjoy the Ball."

Glorfindel sighed but allowed Finrod and Sador to lead him into the throne room. As soon as they stepped past the threshold the chamberlain announced them.

"His Highness, Prince Findaráto, Haryon of the Noldóran and King of Nargothrond." There was a stir at this last title but it quickly died down as the chamberlain continued the introductions. "My lord Sador Bronwegion of Lestanórë and Royal Ward of the Noldóran. My lord Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Ondolindë, Valarauconehtar."

The chamberlain stepped aside and Glorfindel, flanked by Finrod on his left and Sador on his right moved purposefully towards the throne where Ingwë sat in royal splendor with Elindis by his side. Arafinwë and Eärwen sat on thrones that were one step down on Ingwë’s right while Olwë and Lirillë occupied similar thrones on Elindis’ left. Ingwion, as Haryon and Aranaráto stood beside his atar’s throne to the right of his sire. Ingwë, Glorfindel saw with some trepidation, wore the Crown of State rather than the simple circlet of mithril set with a single diamond that the High King usually wore when conducting royal business.

The Crown of State was a much more intricate affair. It was white gold and mithril, intricately wrought in the shape of two stylized eagles facing one another, their wings closed. Each had a claw outstretched between which was set a single star sapphire the size of a pigeon egg. The eyes of the eagles were also sapphires. Ingwë’s sword lay across his lap and Glorfindel had a sick feeling that he would be made to swear an oath to the High King, an oath he might not in good conscience give. He glanced nervously at Finrod, who merely shook his head slightly, giving his brother a swift smile. For some reason, Glorfindel did not find that smile reassuring.

They reached the dais and all three ellyn bowed deeply to the High King, then bowed to Arafinwë and Olwë. At that point, Finrod left Glorfindel’s side to stand beside his own atar, while Sador similarly stood beside Olwë, leaving Glorfindel to face Ingwë alone. Only those on the dais noticed Glorfindel surreptitiously rubbing the peridot ring against his thigh as he stood there staring at the foot of the dais waiting for Ingwë to make the first move.

Ingwë, for his part, stared at the ellon standing before him, wondering how they had ever come to this point. Alassiel still would not speak to him directly and he had gotten a tongue lashing from everyone, including one from his own wife. Elindis was never one to criticize her husband’s decisions, but this time she let him know in no uncertain terms exactly what she thought of his treatment of Glorfindel. He sighed inwardly and gave his chamberlain a brief nod. The elf turned to the court.

"Will Master Martandur and Mistress Míriel come before the throne."

There was a brief stir when Martandur and Míriel, dressed in their most formal robes, came forward to give their obeisance to Ingwë. They stood to Glorfindel’s right. He refused to look at them, keeping his eyes resolutely on Ingwë’s feet.

Ingwë addressed Martandur. "Master Martandur, We ask you before this court if you are satisfied with Lord Glorfindel’s conduct while he was in your service."

"I am, your Majesty," Martandur said. "Lord Glorfindel was the soul of propriety for all the time he was with us. Neither I nor my wife have any cause to complain about his conduct."

Ingwë nodded. "Thank you, Master Martandur, Mistress Míriel. We regret having placed you both in such an untenable position and apologize on behalf of myself and any others who may have caused you any pain or embarrassment because of it."

Martandur bowed and Míriel curtsied, then stepped to one side at Ingwë’s direction. Ingwë then turned his attention to Glorfindel. "Lord Glorfindel."

Glorfindel nearly jerked at the sound of his name and against his will looked up at the High King. Ingwë merely nodded. "I would hear thine apology before this court."

A look of panic flashed across Glorfindel’s face and for a moment several people, Ingwë included, wondered if the ellon would simply bolt, but then he seemed to gather himself together and, taking two steps forward, knelt before the High King. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

"I apologize, your Majesty, for any grief I may have caused thee in my actions on the night of the Winter Solstice and ask in all humbleness for thy forgiveness."

Ingwë then gave his sword over to Ingwion and stood, stepping down to face Glorfindel and gently raising him. "Full gladly do I accept thine apology, Glorfindel of Ondolindë-That-Was. Let us now be friends from this day hence. Nai maruvar sérë ar nilmë imbë met tennoio." Then he took Glorfindel by the shoulders and gave him the kiss of peace, which Glorfindel reciprocated somewhat shyly.

Ingwë then stepped back. Glorfindel made to bow, thinking that that was the end, but Ingwë forestalled him. Silence reigned throughout the court as the spectators waited for they knew not what. Ingwë then turned to Finrod and motioned for him to join them, which he did. There was a stir among the crowd when Ingwë then removed the crown from his head and gave it to Finrod, who looked somewhat surprised to receive it, but gave the High King a short bow of acceptance before stepping back a pace or two. Ingwë, meanwhile, turned back to Glorfindel and gave him a wry smile before his mien became more serious.

An audible gasp rose from the court when he suddenly knelt before Glorfindel. Glorfindel was so shocked that he actually took a step or two back, his face pale, his eyes wide in disbelief. Ingwë remained kneeling, his expression one of calm and when he spoke his voice was clear and strong.

"And, I too, ask for forgiveness, my son," he said, his eyes never leaving Glorfindel’s, "for doing what I did without thy knowledge or consent. I regret any enmity that may lie between us because of it and hope that we may find a way back to the love and friendship that existed between us previously."

There was absolute silence. Glorfindel could only stare at Ingwë in shock, not sure how he was to respond. Then, the strain of the events proved too much for him and he suddenly found himself kneeling as well, weeping. Ingwë, still kneeling, gathered the ellon into his arms and cradled him, whispering something in his ear that none heard, but they saw Glorfindel’s weeping still until he was calm again. Ingwë gave him a kiss on the cheek as he continued to rub the ellon’s back, waiting for Glorfindel to calm down.

Finally, Glorfindel straightened and with tears still in his eyes, he whispered, "Nai maruvar sérë ar nilmë imbë met tennoio."

Ingwë smiled at him warmly and rose gracefully, helping Glorfindel up as he did. He turned to Finrod again and with a gesture took the crown from him and replaced it on his head. Then he turned back to Glorfindel.

"There is one more thing that must be done," he said quietly. Glorfindel could only stare at him, unable to muster up the energy to respond. Ingwë motioned for Sador to join them and with a nod to him and to Finrod he stepped back, though he did not resume his throne. Finrod and Sador gave the High King their obeisance, then turned to Glorfindel, who looked upon them with curiosity.

Without a word both Finrod and Sador reached into pouches hanging from their belts and began pulling out beads and gems. Glorfindel recognized them and knew then what was intended and started to protest, but Finrod forestalled him.

"Nay, brother," he said, "it is only meet that Sador and I rebraid your hair. Whatever else you may or may not be, now or in the future, you are always and foremost a warrior and you will wear the braids that you have earned."

With that, the two began braiding Glorfindel’s hair while all looked on. Glorfindel found it easier to lock gazes with Ingwë, who stood there watching the braiding with mild interest. It did not take long and when they were finished Ingwë nodded and looked out upon the crowd of elves.

"The matter between Lord Glorfindel and myself has been resolved. Let none seek to sunder what has been mended, upon pain of Our royal displeasure." He then nodded to the chamberlain who stepped forward, rapping his staff upon the floor three times before speaking.

"This court of the High King is ended. Let all adjourn."

All the elves gave the High King their obeisance while Ingwë took a still stunned Glorfindel by the arm and led him back up the aisle with the rest of those on the dais following him. Ingwion brought up the rear, his atar’s sword firmly in his grasp. In spite of the grimness of his appearance there was an incongruous smile plastered on the ellon’s face as he followed the rest of the royal entourage out of the throne room.

****

Valarauconehtar: Balrog-Slayer.

Aranaráto: King’s Champion.

Nai maruvar sérë ar nilmë imbë met tennoio: "May peace and friendship abide between us forever".