12: The Hunters Four

The ride to Valmar was done in virtual silence. Ingwion was lost in thought, replaying his dream or vision over and over in his mind. None of the others dared to intrude upon his self-imposed solitude. They could see that something had happened to the prince in the intervening hours, but were unsure what it might portend. It was only as they were approaching Eldamas, dark in the pre-dawn hours, that Ingwion seemed to come back to himself and without preamble began speaking quietly, almost to himself, describing what had happened to him earlier. The other elves listened with rapt attention, awe on their faces at what their otorno was telling them.

"Then I woke to find Maranwë shaking me," he concluded. "I asked him if it were just a dream. Funny, he seemed to know what I was talking about, because he asked me if it really mattered."

"And does it?" Laurendil asked quietly.

Ingwion shook his head. "I suppose it doesn’t. The message was clear enough."

"Do you think we will actually accomplish anything?" Sador asked. "What really can we do that the Valar cannot?"

"I’m wondering if this isn’t just a ruse to get us out of the way," Beleg replied. "Something about this doesn’t sit right with me."

Laurendil sighed. "Well, ruse or not, it’s too late to back out now. Come, the Laughing Vala is close by and the proprietor will be awake by now. If we do not linger we should at least have time for a quick bite and a chance to refresh ourselves before making our way to the Máhanaxar."

The others readily agreed to the plan and in a few short moments they were standing before the doors of the inn, giving the ostler instructions for their horses before going inside. If Carnifindo was surprised to see four well-born ellyn, and one of them a Prince of Eldamar, entering his inn before dawn, he gave no sign. Instead, he welcomed them and provided them with everything they needed. Three quarters of an hour later, they bade the innkeeper farewell and were on their way. The sky was brightening with the promise of a fair day. They rode through Valmar, Beleg and Sador slowing slightly as they came to Lord Námo’s mansion, but neither one lingered. Ingwion and Laurendil exchanged knowing looks but made no comments at the wistful expressions of the two Reborn. They paused briefly to give their respects to the Two Trees, then, leaving their horses outside the Ring of Doom, they entered to find Oromë waiting for them just as Anar rose above the horizon and a sunbeam pierced the cleft of the Calacirya, illuminating Aman.

The Vala smiled at them benignly as they gave him their obeisance. He gestured for them to approach. "You did well," he told them. His keen glance pierced them, seeming to linger longer on Ingwion, who found he could not meet the Vala’s gaze for very long. "My brethren think that I call this Hunt on a whim, to get you out from under their feet, so to speak." He laughed at their chagrin. "But in truth, this is no whim." His attitude became more sober. "I think that you four, or more especially Beleg and Sador, may hold part of the key to bringing Findaráto and Glorfindel back where they belong."

"Why Beleg and Sador, lord?" Laurendil asked.

"Because they are Reborn and, as my brother Námo keeps insisting, the fëar of the Reborn seem to resonate on a slightly different frequency than you Once-born." All four ellyn gave the Vala a confused look and Oromë nodded. "You know that Eä was brought into being through Song." They all nodded. "Thus, everything resonates with an echo of that original Song, even you Children, though we Valar had naught to do with Singing you into Being. Apparently, when one of you dies and experiences Judgment, your fëa undergoes a slight modification and you no longer resonate quite the same way as before. We don’t know why this happens, only that it does."

"And you think that because Findaráto and Glorfindel are also Reborn, Beleg and Sador might be able to do what exactly?" Ingwion asked.

"That is what we are about to find out, my children," Oromë answered mildly. "Come, let us ride." With that, he led them back out of the Ring to where they had left their horses to find that four Maiar in the livery of the Lord of Forests were waiting for them, all mounted on their own horses. Oromë’s own steed, Nahar, was there as well, greeting his master with a toss of his head.

"Where do we go?" Ingwion asked as he mounted his horse.

"To the place where the last Hunt ended," Oromë responded as he mounted Nahar. "We ride to the royal hunting lodge."

"Couldn’t we have just met you there, lord?" Sador asked with some exasperation as he climbed upon his own horse. "Why make us come all the way here?"

Oromë gave the young ellon a fond smile. "I have my reasons, child," he replied in a mild tone. With that, he set off and the elves were forced to follow. Two of the Maiar, whom Oromë introduced as Aldarondur and Roimendil covered their flanks while the other two, Ulcuroitar and Tirnotaurion took the rearguard. All through the brightening day they rode, stopping only twice for the elves’ sake. They rode in silence for the most part, but then shortly before noon the Maiar began to sing. None of the elves understood the words, for the song was not in the tongue of either the Eldar or the Edain. Their voices were low and sonorous and the words seemed to speak of rolling meadows and sun-filled glades, rushing rivers and gladsome trees reaching towards the heavens. The tune was such that even without realizing it the elves found themselves humming along. None of them saw the smile on Oromë’s face.

They reached the royal hunting lodge a couple of hours later to find that others had been there before them, for the door stood open and the hearthfire was burning brightly. The elves looked about in surprise, for, in spite of appearances, there was no sign of anyone else about.

Oromë, divining their confusion, simply smiled. "I had some of my People prepare the lodge for us, or rather, for you," he said by way of explanation. "Come, let us care for our steeds and then we will take our ease."

A small but adequate stable lay on the other side of the lodge and soon all the horses were properly cared for and fed. Ingwion and the other elves then made their way into the lodge along with Oromë while the four Maiar took up guard positions around it. Inside, they found a venison stew bubbling away on the wood stove in the kitchen. There were also fresh loaves of bread and a half round of white cheese. In minutes the elves were seated around the table partaking of the simple meal, for they had not stopped at noon to eat but had pressed on, knowing that they were nearing the lodge. Oromë joined them at the table but did not bother to eat, merely sitting there watching the elves enjoy their repast. After the meal, the elves cleaned up while the Vala put together a pot of tea for them.

"We will retire to the front room," he told them, "and I will tell you how this Hunt is to be conducted."

In minutes they were all seated around the fire enjoying its warmth, for the day, which had begun fair, looked to be ending in dampness. There was the hint of rain in the air and Oromë told them that by morning a storm would be passing through the area. "An excellent excuse to remain indoors safe and warm."

"How does that help us on this Hunt, though?" Laurendil asked with a smile as he stirred some honey into his tea. "Every hunt I’ve ever been on has been in the Wilds, usually under less than ideal conditions."

"This will be a Hunt of a different kind," Oromë replied. "It will not be a Hunt conducted by your hröar but by your fëar."

The elves stared at the Vala with varying degrees of surprise and trepidation. Beleg and Sador seemed less dismayed than the older two ellyn, but all of them had expressions of confusion on their faces.

"Where Findaráto and Glorfindel are you cannot go, at least not in hröa. Therefore, you must search for them with your fëar, using the bonds you have with one another and with them as your guides."

"Bonds?" Beleg asked.

Oromë nodded. "Each of you is linked by bonds of love and fraternity to both Findaráto and Glorfindel, though in varying degrees. You, Beleg, are bound to them through your shared experiences in Mandos, while Sador is as a brother to them both. Laurendil is bound to Findaráto by the Life Oath which not even death can sever and Ingwion is bound to Findaráto through blood. All of you are bound to Glorfindel through your love for him. These bonds will be your guides to finding them and perhaps helping them to discover the way back."

He paused for a moment to let them digest his words before continuing. "My fellow Valar think I am merely indulging your whims to be of help, but I am not. I have thought about this and I think that you four will be instrumental in rescuing Findaráto and Glorfindel precisely because of the bonds of love and brotherhood you have for each other that transcend blood and lineage and life’s circumstances."

"So what do we do?" Ingwion asked.

"At the moment, nothing," Oromë said. "There will be time enough for this tomorrow. For now I want you to relax and rest. Ingwion will tell you that expending the energy of one’s fëa is very tiring. Spend the rest of the day and evening in quiet pursuits. We will resume the Hunt at dawn tomorrow. My people will guard you, so have no concerns on that score." With that the Vala was gone and the four ellyn were left alone, each wondering just how they were expected to conduct a Hunt without physically leaving the lodge.

****

Ingwion was wakened with a gentle shake and upon focusing his eyes saw Tirnotaurion bending over him with a smile. "It is time for you to arise, youngling," the Maia said softly. "My lord awaits you and your companions below."

Ingwion nodded and struggled into a sitting position to see that each of his companions was being woken by one of the Maiar. Roimendil was waking Beleg while Aldarondur was gently shaking Sador. Further along Ingwion could see Ulcuraitor standing at the foot of Laurendil’s bed. He did nothing more than lay a single finger on the elf’s right foot. Instantly, Laurendil was standing on the bed reaching for a sword that was not there. Ulcuraitar never moved but stood there with a slight knowing smile on his face. It took Laurendil several seconds to realize where he was and then he was looking sheepish. Ingwion gave Tirnotaurion a bemused look which the Maia returned with a broad smile.

"Old habits die hard," was all he said, then all four Maiar were gone and the elves were left to get dressed on their own.

Downstairs they found a hot breakfast waiting for them. As predicted, the weather had turned overnight and now a steady downpour greeted them in the pearly-white of the day, for fog lay all about the lodge.

"I guess we will be staying indoors today after all," Laurendil muttered to no one in particular. The other three merely grinned.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. There was no sign of either Lord Oromë or his Maiar while they ate, but once they were finished and the kitchen cleaned up, they made their way back to the front parlor to find the Vala and the Maiar waiting for them. The elves gave Oromë their obeisance and he smiled upon them, gesturing for them to take seats before the fire, welcome on this damp and dreary day. When the elves were comfortably seated, the Maiar situated themselves so that each of them was standing behind the ellon whom they had woken earlier. Oromë then spoke.

"As I told you yesterday, this Hunt will be unusual on many levels. Each of you has a bond with Findaráto and Glorfindel, but you also have bonds with one another."

"How can that be, lord?" Beleg asked in confusion. "I have known Sador, Ingwion and Laurendil for only a short time and none of them did I know in my previous life, save that I knew Sador’s daeredhryn."

"Still, a connection is growing through your mutual concern for two whom you all love," Oromë replied. "You must trust in that in order for you to succeed in your endeavor."

"What are we to do, then?" Laurendil asked.

"Ingwion will lead you, for in this he has more experience, having done something similar with Glorfindel," Oromë replied. Sador and Laurendil nodded, understanding what the Vala meant. Beleg still looked confused but remained quiet, trusting in Oromë’s words. The Lord of the Hunt turned to Ingwion, his expression more loving than any of them had ever seen on his face. "You remember how you reached out for Glorfindel’s fëa, do you not, child?"

Ingwion nodded.

"Then do the same with your otornor," Oromë commanded. "Reach out for Laurendil first, for he has begun training in the mind arts of the Lóriennildi and will be your anchor when you bring in Sador and Beleg."

Ingwion closed his eyes for better concentration. There was no sound save the crackling of the fire in the grate and the constant dripping of the rain outside. Laurendil closed his own eyes and opened himself to Ingwion as he had been taught by his tutors and when he felt Ingwion’s somewhat hesitant questing, welcomed him without flinching.

"Good, very good," Oromë said encouragingly. "Now, without losing your hold on Laurendil bring Sador and then Beleg into communion. Do not rush, take your time. Sador, Beleg, you must both keep yourselves open to Ingwion’s touch. Do not be afraid, for what indeed have you to fear from your own otorno?"

Both Sador and Beleg closed their eyes, their expressions blank with concentration. Aldarondur leaned over Sador, gently placing his hands on the ellon’s shoulders. "Relax, child," the Maia whispered with a smile. "Imagine yourself greeting Ingwion with open arms and with joy. Do not force the communion." Sador breathed a sigh and visibly relaxed. Aldarondur looked up at Oromë and the two exchanged knowing smiles.

It was several minutes before Ingwion, with a little encouragement from both Oromë and Tirnotaurion, managed to bring the two other ellyn into communion with him. It was both strange and wondrous, for in his mind’s eye he saw them all as Beings of Light and he was awed by what he saw, unaware that the others were seeing him and each other in similar fashion and feeling equally awed.

Oromë smiled as he let the four elves take a moment or two to revel in the feelings they were experiencing before bidding them to focus on him. "Now, listen carefully, my children," he said. "This was the easy part. This is where the Hunt truly begins. Ingwion, you are the spearhead, your otornor are your supports. My Maiar will also stand guard and lend you their own strength if necessary. Reach out with your minds, children, seek for the two who are lost, seek for your otornor whom you love more than life itself. Seek, my children, seek...."

Ingwion was not sure how he did it, but suddenly he found himself rushing away, somehow able to pass through the thick walls of the lodge to hover over the forest surrounding them. He vaguely realized that the others were right behind him, glowing with eldritch light. Instinctively, Ingwion concentrated on Glorfindel’s fëa, for he was familiar with it’s ‘scent’ from before. He was not sure what he was doing, or even how, but it felt right and he did not question it. He cast his mind further afield, searching for some sign of Glorfindel, vaguely aware that the other three were doing the same.

*There!*

Ingwion recognized the ‘voice’ as Beleg’s and followed the direction of the ellon’s thoughts. Yes, somehow they could all sense Glorfindel somewhere in the direction where lay Vanyamar, though Ingwion was concerned that he had not yet picked up Findaráto’s ‘scent’. At any rate, such concerns became moot when Beleg, in his excitement, fled from them.

*Beleg!* more than one of them shouted, but it was too late. Without thinking it through, Ingwion suddenly ‘grabbed’ the other two and the three of them went after Beleg. None of them noticed that four Maiar and one Vala were in a slight panic when they saw what was happening.

"Let’s reel them back in," Oromë said with some exasperation. "None of them were supposed to actually leave the vicinity of their hröar." The four Maiar merely nodded, concentrating on capturing their wayward charges, which proved more difficult than they anticipated.

Ingwion sped after Beleg, a bright pulsating green star before him, his other two otornor right beside him. *Beleg, wait!* he shouted and felt Sador and Laurendil lending him the strength of their own wills to put some force behind the command. It seemed to work, for the bright star that was Beleg seemed to slow. They saw the Sinda ‘turn’ towards them, confusion and frustration somehow evident in the shifting colors of his Being.

*He’s here! He’s here!* Beleg shouted at them. *Why do you not let me go to him?*

*We all go together, or we don’t go at all,* Ingwion stated categorically, putting all the force of his will behind his words as he and the other two ellyn reached the former Marchwarden. *Besides, I have the feeling we’re not meant to actually go to where Glorfindel and Findaráto are, but to provide them with an anchor so they can come to us.*

Beleg’s Light darkened somewhat in dejection and the other three were swift to surround him and offer him their comfort. *It will be well, gwador,* Laurendil said soothingly. *Now, let’s see what....*

He never completed his thought, for at that instant, several things happened at the same moment: all four of them felt minds more powerful than their own reaching out to them and calling them back to their hröar. All four attempted to resist the calls as they sought to pinpoint just where they had sensed Glorfindel. Beleg, especially, was resistant and practically screamed as he felt himself being dragged back. Then, suddenly, a host of butterflies surrounded the four elven fëar and it seemed to them that the fabric of the air before them shifted and tore apart. With a mighty yell Beleg lunged forward towards the tear in space surrounded now by all the butterflies, while Ingwion, Sador and Laurendil found themselves being pulled back. Before they could offer any further resistance, they found themselves back in their hröar staring up at the concerned faces of the Maiar.

"BELEG!" Sador screamed, struggling to reach his fellow Sinda. Aldarondur was holding the ellon back and they could see that Roimendil was sitting in Beleg’s chair, cradling the Sinda’s still form in his arms, a look of deep distress on the Maia’s face. Oromë was standing over them, his own expression dark and forbidding. "Where’s Beleg?" Sador demanded, fear and fury and a need to weep warring within him. "Where’s Beleg?"

Ingwion and Laurendil could only stare in shock at the supine body of their friend as Sador continued screaming for answers and struggling in Aldarondur’s embrace. Neither Oromë nor the Maiar responded to his demands.

****

Daeredhryn: (Sindarin) Grandparents. The singular, odhron, means ‘male parent’ but in this context the plural would signify both parents.

The names and meanings of Oromë’s Maiar:

Aldarondur: "Servant of the Lord of Trees".

Roimendil: "Lover of the Hunt".

Tirnotaurion: "Guardian of Trees".

Ulcuroitar: "Hunter of Evil".