134: Justice Is Not Healing

Calalindalë jerked slightly at the sound of her name. She had paid little attention to the proceedings, refusing to acknowledge that any of it concerned her. Vorondil had always been a willful, even impulsive, child, and Aldundil had proved a disappointment to her both as a husband and as a man. He had taken forever, or so it seemed, to agree to marry her and then refused to give her a child for the longest time. His own sense of guilt, though, had been his undoing and she had finally been able to convince him that having a child would not be so bad a thing.

She had hoped for a daughter, and had been shocked when she realized the burgeoning life within her was a son. Aldundil had been ecstatic and from the very first had decided their child would be named after his lost brother. It was perhaps at that moment that Calalindalë conceived a hatred for her unborn child, a hatred that became the basis of her revenge upon the person who should have fathered him, a hatred for the one who had taken his place, a hatred she denied she even had, presenting a veneer of civility and even love towards her son and husband. Vorondil, of course, knew no better, believing all ammi were such as his; Aldundil, to give him credit, did his best towards them both, though his own sense of guilt prevented him from taking a firmer hand over the raising of his son.

"Lady Calalindalë," Glorfindel said, attempting to get her attention.

She gathered herself together and gave the Reborn elf a cool stare. "And what questions would those be?"

If her refusal to address him with the title that was his by right upset Glorfindel he gave no sign, merely smiling slightly in a way that those who knew him best were alerted to possible trouble ahead. Even Námo was seen to close his eyes briefly in dismay and the two Maiar unconsciously placed hands on swords. Calalindalë, of course, did not know Glorfindel at all and thus was unaware of the danger she had fallen into.

"This Court would appreciate you explaining what you hoped to accomplish by inculcating a hatred towards the Reborn in your son."

Calalindalë went white, not in fear, but in anger. "What has that to do with anything?" she snarled, her eyes blazing with barely suppressed wrath and disdain. "He’s always been... defective that way. Nothing to do with me."

Vorondil gasped at his amillë’s words and despair swept over him. Aldundil tried to comfort him, but he refused it, turning abruptly away and falling into Námo’s arms. The Vala stroked the ellon’s hair and whispered something to him that none could hear while Aldundil stood helplessly by. There was a stir among the spectators but Glorfindel ignored all that, keeping his gaze on the elleth standing imperiously before him.

"This Court thinks otherwise," he said quietly and the tone of his voice sent shivers even among those who had no direct dealings with the proceedings.

Some of the spectators, remembering this ellon’s earlier demeanor when he had first arrived in Vanyamar were rethinking their estimation of his worth. Here stood not the feckless, impulsive ellon who had practically insulted the High King on his very first day at Ingwë’s court, nor was this the victim of a brutal attack or even the thrall of a jewel-smith who had appeared before that same court only a few days ago to offer Ingwë an apology for his rash behavior. Here, instead, stood an Elf-lord of grave counsel, the warrior who had taken on a Valarauco, an intimate of princes, and one who had the ear of the Valar. It was a sobering reassessment for many.

Valandur, watching the proceedings from his vantage point in the gallery, moved to whisper something in Ingwë’s ear. The High King gave his loremaster a piercing look, then nodded. "We will speak further of this later," he said softly and Valandur nodded, returning to his seat beside Findis. He gave his wife a brief knowing smile. His beloved had denuded herself of every bracelet and bangle that could normally be found adorning her, allowing only a single strand of pearls to ornament her neck. She blushed in embarrassment, knowing what her husband was thinking, still feeling mortified at what her nephew had told her about Aldarion’s shooting mishap. Valandur leaned closer to her and gave her a warm loving kiss on her cheek.

"You’re even more beautiful without them, meldenya," he whispered and she gave him a grateful smile in return.

Glorfindel, in the meantime, did not give Calalindalë time to respond. "I think at this time we should hear the oath given to you by one who is not in a position to speak for himself." He turned his gaze on Námo and gave the Vala a slight bow. "If my lord will permit Lord Eönwë to come before this Court."

Námo returned the ellon’s gaze with a slight smile. "You need only summon him, Glorfindel. The Valar and Maiar stand ready to assist in any way with these proceedings, though we will not interfere with whatever happens."

"Yet, you are here," Finrod spoke up, his tone only slightly accusatory.

Námo gave him a considering look. "Someone of a disinterested nature had to step in as Vorondil’s Counsel. In your... haste to get this trial over with, you neglected to enquire for one beforehand. I... volunteered myself... after seeking the Elder King’s permission, of course."

This last was said in a somewhat droll manner and Finrod had the grace to blush at the mild reprimand. He did not respond, however, except to give a brief nod of acknowledgment before turning to Glorfindel. "Summon him, brother."

Glorfindel nodded, then spoke in ringing tones. "Would the Maia Eönwë, Herald of Manwë and Keeper of the Book of Oaths, come before this Court?"

At once there was a stir of air and those nearest the dais smelled lavender and lovage as the familiar form of the Captain of the Host of Valinor coalasced before them. Every warrior there saluted the Maia, who acknowledged their salutes with a slight nod, his expression one of solemn joy. In his hands was the Book of Oaths.

Glorfindel bowed to the Maia before addressing him. "Would you please read the oath given to Lady Calalindalë by her betrothed, Lord Vorondil Herendilion, brother to Lord Aldundil."

The Book opened of its own accord to a particular page. Eönwë never bothered to look at it, repeating the oath that the elder Vorondil had spoken to Calalindalë three and a half yéni earlier.

"And now the oath spoken by Lord Aldundil on the same occasion," Glorfindel said when the Maia finished.

Again the pages of the Book moved of themselves and again Eönwë never bothered to look down to read, speaking the oath from memory. Indeed, the Book itself was merely a fiction, for Eönwë had no need of it. Every oath spoken, whispered or screamed was indelibly imprinted upon his consciousness, stored away to be recalled when and if necessary. The Book was, for him a prop, for the benefit of the Children, nothing more. That is not to say, however, that the Book itself had no intrinsic reality outside himself, for it did. None of the Children would ever visit the dimly lit chamber behind the walls of Ilmarin where this Book could normally be found, placed upon an ambo between two eternally lit candelabra before a tapestry showing one of the Valar receiving the oaths of several Maiar. A closer look would reveal that the Vala in question was not the Elder King, as one would expect, but the Lord of Mandos. Even if one of the Children chanced upon the room and asked about the tapestry, no Vala or Maia would ever deign to enlighten the inquisitive elf as to its significance.

When Eönwë finished reciting Aldundil’s oath, there was a pregnant pause. Vorondil, hearing his uncle and his atar’s oaths for the first time, stared at his parents from the safety of Námo’s arms. Finally, he addressed his atar. "You... foreswore your oath to... to Uncle Vorondil?" he asked disbelievingly. The look on Aldundil’s face was full of sorrow and shame and he could not look at his son directly. "I’m... I’m only alive because you betrayed... you..." he turned to look at Námo, his expression beyond bleak. "No wonder everyone hates me," he whispered. "I... I’m an abomination, aren’t I? I was never meant to be born."

No one moved, too shocked at the words to respond. Námo hugged the ellon and kissed him on the forehead. "But you were born, child," Námo said gently. "No one is born but that Eru wills it so. Therefore you are not to speak such nonsense again, do you understand?" Vorondil cringed slightly at Námo’s admonishing tone, but nodded. The Vala continued. "You are not an abomination, nor does everyone hate you. Your atar loves you and I love you."

That admission seemed to help steady the ellon, for he nodded again and then went to Aldundil, standing before him. "I’m sorry, Atto," he whispered shyly, not daring to look up. Aldundil gave a gasp and took his son into his arms and hugged him fiercely.

"Nay, yonya," he said, "it is I who am sorry... for everything."

Finrod then spoke. "Lord Námo is correct, Vorondil. You are not an abomination... a pain in the neck sometimes, but nothing more terrible than that." The drollness of his tone caused Vorondil to snicker, and several others followed suit. Finrod nodded in approval, then turned to Glorfindel. "Continue, brother."

Glorfindel nodded and turned back to Calalindalë and Eönwë. "There is one more oath I would have you recite, my lord," he said respectfully to the Maia.

"And which oath would that be, Son of Gondolin?" Eönwë asked, knowing full well which oath Glorfindel meant, but willing to play this game howsoever these Children wished.

"Lady Calalindalë’s oath to her betrothed," Glorfindel replied. "The last one before he left for Beleriand."

Eönwë nodded. Again the pages of the Book turned of themselves, but when they stopped, Eönwë glanced down at the page and ran a finger down it, stopping halfway. He waited a moment before speaking. "‘And I swear, Vorondil, that I will remain true to our love for one another. When you return, we shall marry.’"

Glorfindel glanced at Calalindalë standing there white and struggling for composure. "‘When you return’," he repeated. "Not, ‘if you return’ or ‘when you return safely’ but ‘when you return’."

"What’s your point, Reborn?" the elleth hissed angrily.

Glorfindel gave an elegant shrug. "Only that your oath does not specify the manner of Lord Vorondil’s return, only that he should and when he did, you two would marry. Lord Vorondil died," Glorfindel continued brutally. "Even now he resides in Mandos, oblivious to the drama being played out here. Someday, though, he will be released and his memories returned to him, including his oath to you and your oath to him. You swore to remain true to the love between you, but you betrayed that oath and that love and in your betrayal you led another down the same path towards ignominy and brought forth a child who would then be stigmatized by the unfeeling or the uncaring for crimes not his own."

"I’m not the one on trial here," Calalindalë nearly screamed. "My betrothed died. There was no bond between us, only oaths contingent upon his surviving the war. He did not. Should I not be free to find another to love me and marry me?"

"Contingent upon Vorondil surviving the war?" Námo asked coldly. "That is not how the oath was read."

"It is what I meant at the time," Calalindalë retorted. "Vorondil knew that."

Námo shook his head. "On the contrary, he knew no such thing."

Glorfindel gave the Vala a considering look. "What did he know?"

Námo frowned and for a moment they did not think he would answer, then his expression cleared and he gave a nod. "His last thought before coming to me was the hope that once released from Mandos he would be reunited with his betrothed and they would marry. It is what sustained him through the... process of dying."

"Well, that may have sustained him," Calalindalë said dismissively, "but it did not sustain me. Was I to be denied love because my betrothed was stupid enough to die on some foreign field defending those who deserved to die anyway? Was it not my right to marry another once Vorondil passed through your gates?"

"That was certainly your right, though others might wonder at your motives," Námo replied. "But... you are not Finwë and the Namna Finwë Míriello does not apply here, if it ever applied to any but those two benighted people."

"What are you saying, my lord?" Finrod asked.

Námo gave the prince a wintry smile. "There was much debate about that Statute among the Valar," he said. "In the end, we allowed it to stand, though we thought it the... Lower Road. Much sorrow may have been avoided had Finwë abided in Hope rather than seek another way. Yet, had he done so, child, neither you nor your atar would be alive today."

Finrod paled at that and Námo continued relentlessly. "We deplored the necessity of the decision but recognized that while we might in counsel point to the Higher Road we could not compel any free creature to walk upon it. This is certainly the case here. Lady Calalindalë and Lord Vorondil were meant to marry and bring forth children. That did not happen and so we are left with the consequences of oaths broken and trust betrayed."

"Meaning, me," Vorondil said in a bleak whisper.

If he hoped Námo would repudiate his words, his hope was in vain. Námo nodded, giving the ellon a sympathetic look. "Yes. Meaning, you."

"As interesting as this all is, my lord," Sador suddenly said, "what does it have to do with the fact that Vorondil attacked Findaráto?"

"Only that the Valar have not and cannot presume certainty with regard to the wills of you Children. It is our part to rule Arda, and to counsel you, or to command you in things committed to our authority. Therefore it is our task to deal with Arda Marred, and to declare what is just within it. Healing by final Hope is a law which one can give to oneself only; of others justice alone can be demanded."

"And for whom do the Valar demand justice, my lord?" Finrod asked, not sure if he approved of the Valar’s interference here, however obliquely done.

Námo’s smile was somewhat sad. "For all of you, child, else there is no point to this trial."

For a long moment Finrod merely stared at the Vala, then his eyes flitted between Vorondil and Aldundil holding onto one another and Calalindalë standing alone and imperious, though he sensed a frailty and uncertainty in her expression. Finally he nodded. "We will retire then and consult with our brothers before making our final decision in this matter," he intoned formally. "Let all await our pleasure."

Then he rose and without another word walked off the dais and away from all with Glorfindel and Sador beside him. Soon they were out of sight, heading for a small tent that had been erected away from the list field for Finrod’s use.

The only people who did not wait restlessly for Finrod’s return were Námo and the three Maiar.

****

Finrod, Glorfindel and Sador were gone for only about fifteen minutes. Their return was rather a surprise to many who did not expect to see them for some hours. The expressions on the ellyn’s faces were sober and gave nothing away. When they reached the dais and took their seats, Finrod crooked his finger at Vorondil, motioning him forward. The ellon came and stood before his Master, his hands clutched together, his features pale, his eyes full of fear.

Finrod spoke quietly but all heard him. "What you did was wrong, Vorondil, not just in attacking me, but in attempting to provoke me into slaying you. Whatever my crimes against the Valar or our people, kinslaying has never been one of them. I do not appreciate you attempting to make me into one at your expense."

He paused to let the words sink in and Vorondil looked suitably chastened. Finrod sighed. "Nevertheless, I can understand why you did what you did and it grieves me that you were driven to such extreme actions out of love of your atar. While you may be guilty of stupidity, I find you are not guilty of intent to do me harm."

There was a sigh that spread across the crowd. Aldundil closed his eyes and breathed a prayer of thanks. Vorondil merely stared at Finrod with an uncomprehending look. "I... I’m not going to be punished?" he asked in a whisper, not quite believing his luck.

Now Finrod, Glorfindel and Sador all smiled and Finrod chuckled. "I did not say that, child. I said I do not find you guilty of intent to commit bodily harm. You must still bear the consequences of your actions though."

"Wh-what will you do to me?" the ellon asked, swallowing nervously.

"I think a period of solitude and reflection would not be amiss," Finrod replied. "I fear that the events of the last week have perhaps not helped your... more excitable nature and I find that I cannot trust you around me at this time."

Vorondil’s face crumpled and he started weeping quietly. Finrod stood up and stepped down from the dais to take the ellon in his embrace. "This is not a permanent separation, child," he said not unkindly. "I think you need to learn more self-control and I do not have the time nor the patience to be your teacher."

"Where will you send him, aranya?" Aldundil asked.

Finrod gave his vassal a quick smile. "I hadn’t really decided that part yet, I’m afraid."

Hearing that, Ingwion stood up and went to stand at the railing of the gallery. "He can return to Lady Nienna’s with me, if you wish," he said.

Finrod looked back at his cousin in surprise. "I thought your time at Lady Nienna’s was over?"

Ingwion nodded. "So did I, but..." he stole a glance at Námo before returning his gaze to Finrod. "I have decided I need more time there myself. I will take Vorondil there when I leave if you so desire it. I do not think the Lady will object."

"No indeed."

All looked as Námo’s sister appeared beside her brother. "In fact, I insist. Vorondil should spend some time with me."

Vorondil looked uncertainly between Finrod and Nienna. Finrod nodded in agreement. "Then that is what will happen, Lady. Ingwion will bring Vorondil to you after the tournament."

"How... how long do I have to stay there?" Vorondil asked meekly.

Finrod gazed at the Valar, his expression uncertain. It was Nienna who answered. "You will stay with me, young Vorondil, for as long as I require your service."

"Service?" the ellon asked, clearly confused. "I thought I was being punished."

Now Ingwion laughed. "It almost comes to the same thing where the Valar are concerned, youngster. I would not fret over it. I’m sure your ‘punishment’ will be far less onerous than mine was." He flashed both Nienna and Námo a knowing smile and they gave him smiles of their own.

Finrod nodded, now looking amused. "Then it is decided, and Aldundil..." he turned to look at his vassal. "I said earlier that you would not be allowed to take your son’s place, but I think you might benefit from spending some time with Vorondil, just the two of you. If you wish and if the Noldóran agrees, I do not think you will be denied the right to join your son at Lady Nienna’s for the duration of his stay there."

"I have no objections," Arafinwë said, standing so all could see him.

"Nor do I," Nienna said. "In fact, I think it’s a wonderful idea."

Finrod nodded, looking obviously pleased and gave Nienna a short bow. "Then I will leave it for you to decide when Vorondil is ready to join me in Lórien." He gave Vorondil a quick hug and a kiss on his brow. smiling at the ellon. "In the meantime, I think we can leave you in your atar’s custody. Will that be acceptable to you, Aldundil?"

"Yes, aranya," the warrior said gratefully. "Thank you."

"What about ammë?" Vorondil then asked.

Finrod’s demeanor became grave again and he sighed, casting a glance at the elleth still standing apart from them all. "Your ammë is guilty of many things, but none that are within my purview to render judgment upon."

"In that you are correct, child," Námo said. "Yet, they are not outside my purview. Lady Calalindalë will spend some time with me, or rather with my spouse. Vairë has agreed to take her into her household for a time."

All saw Calalindalë sway in shock and Eönwë, being the closest, took her arm and steadied her. Finrod sighed, then nodded. "So be it."

Glorfindel then stood and spoke in ringing tones. "Valar valuvar. This Court is now ended. Let all depart in peace."

And they did, including Calalindalë, who suddenly found one of Lady Vairë’s Maiar standing before her. The Maia introduced herself as Therindë. In moments, she and Calalindalë were seen walking away towards the city where presumably the elleth would spend the night before making her way to Lady Vairë’s abode. Vorondil left with Aldundil and everyone else dispersed in groups of three or four, until only Námo and Nienna were left, the other Maiar having been dismissed.

"Well, brother," Nienna asked, "are you satisfied with how this worked out?"

Námo nodded. "As far as Justice has been served, yes. Healing, I’m afraid, will not come for any of them for some time, yet. I regret that this day had to even happen."

Nienna gave her brother a sympathetic smile as she put a hand on his arm to offer him comfort. "So do we all, pityaháno, so do we all."

****

Ammi: Plural of ammë: hypocoristic form of amillë: Mother. 

Pityaháno: Little Brother.

Namna Finwë Míriello: The Statute of Finwë and Míriel. [See ,‘Laws and Customs Among the Eldar’, Morgoth’s Ring, HoME X.] Parts of Námo’s speech are lifted directly from the debate of the Valar concerning this Statute with slight modifications to fit the context of the scene.

The title is taken from words spoken by Lord Manwë in this same debate:

"Neither must ye forget that in Arda Marred Justice is not Healing. Healing cometh only by suffering and patience, and maketh no demand, not even for Justice. Justice worketh only within the bonds of things as they are, accepting the marring of Arda, and therefore, though Justice is itself good and desireth no further evil, it can but perpetuate the evil that was, and doth not prevent it from the bearing of fruit in sorrow."