26: Waiting for Judgment

"Where did you find them?" Manwë asked Fionwë, staring dispassionately at the two errant Maiar flanked by several warrior Maiar. Lisselindë kept her eyes fastened to the floor, her entire demeanor one of complete dejection; Olórin looked calmer and more accepting of what was happening.

"With Tilion, actually," Fionwë answered with a grin. "It seems he and Olórin were trying to convince Lisselindë that fleeing to the nether regions of Eä would not be wise."

Manwë cast a discerning glance at Olórin, who gazed upon his lord with a steady eye, neither excusing nor apologizing for his actions. The Elder King nodded, turning his attention back to Fionwë. "Well, culpability on everyone’s part has still to be determined. These two are remanded unto Lord Námo for now. He is expecting them."

Lisselindë made an inarticulate noise and swayed slightly. Both Olórin and Fionwë took her by the arms and held her up. "Steady," Fionwë whispered to her, not unkindly. "Do not bring any further disgrace upon thyself. Remember thou’rt a Maia."

Lisselindë nodded and was able to give the Elder King her obeisance before they all departed for Mandos. When they were gone, Manwë remained seated where he was. None of the other Valar were there in the small audience chamber where Fionwë had brought the prisoners. He sat for a long time in deep contemplation. Finally, he stirred.

"Eönwë," he said softly and his Herald appeared, giving him a bow. Manwë smiled thinly at the Maia. "A pretty little pickle Lisselindë has landed us all in," he commented. Eönwë gave the Elder King a single nod but did not speak. Manwë sighed. "I originally thought to keep this entire affair private, but on second thought I have decided otherwise. Go to Ingwë, Arafinwë and Olwë with my compliments and give them the following message." He then proceeded to tell the Maia what he was to say to the three elven kings. Eönwë felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and he suppressed a shiver. When Manwë was finished giving his instructions, the Maia bowed deeply and then left to fulfill his lord’s command.

Manwë remained where he was for a long time afterwards, communing with Atar and contemplating many things, not the least of which was what to do with Glorfindel and Findaráto.

****

Glorfindel, meanwhile, was making friends with Celepharn, much to the surprise of them both. "You were so insufferable... before," Glorfindel said to the ellon a couple of days after the fight. "I cannot believe how changed you are."

Celepharn gave him a shy smile. "I was very foolish. Lord Irmo showed me the error of my ways."

Glorfindel nodded. "He is very good at that," he said with a straight face. "Almost as good as Lord Námo."

For a moment the two ellyn stared at one another, each remembering certain instances when the said Lord of Mandos had indeed shown them the error of their ways and then they were both laughing.

"Would you like to do something?" Celepharn asked when they both calmed down.

"Like what?" Glorfindel asked. "I have the feeling I am sort of under house arrest. I’m not sure I’m going to be permitted to leave this grove."

Celepharn thought for a moment then gave Glorfindel a bright smile. "Only one way to find out, isn’t there?"

Glorfindel’s own smile was brilliant as he nodded in understanding. They made their way to the grove’s entrance, looking about, half expecting to see a couple of Maiar suddenly appear and shoo them back inside, but there was no one. Giving each other a grin, they stepped out and made their way along the sward.

"Where shall we go and what shall we do?" Glorfindel asked.

"There’s a stretch of woods not far from here," Celepharn answered. "It rather reminds me of the highlands of Dorthonion for some reason though there are few pine trees."

"I never saw them myself," Glorfindel said, "but I’ll take your word for it."

"I like wandering through it," Celepharn replied. "I was even thinking I’d like to build a flet in one of the trees."

"Really? Like the ones the Nandor made? I heard about them from Finrod’s descriptions of his journeying through Ossiriand but I’ve never seen one for real."

"Maybe we can build one together if we can find the right tree," Celepharn suggested.

Glorfindel nodded. "And if they let us, or rather me, near any... um... tools." He gave the other ellon a wry grin and Celepharn laughed, knowing what his new friend meant.

They made their way along, chatting amiably about nothing in particular until they came to a stand of trees that rose gracefully into the sky. There were oaks and beeches, along with nessameldar and malinorni. The two of them wandered through the woods, growing more silent as the majesty of the trees began to impinge upon their souls.

"Here," Glorfindel said suddenly, stopping before one particular malinornë. "This tree will do."

Celepharn looked at the golden-leafed tree doubtfully. "How do you know?"

Glorfindel just shrugged. "Just know. Shall we go look for materials and start building?"

Celepharn grinned, nodding, and after Glorfindel tied a piece of ribbon torn from his tunic around one of the tree’s lower branches so they would recognize it again, they went off in search of hammers, nails and planking. Neither of them were aware of the two Maiar — Manwë had increased the guard on Glorfindel — watching them with amusement.

****

Finrod ended up staying with his anamillë, the Lady Indis, though not before he was taken to see what damage he and Glorfindel had done to his own grove. He shook his head in shock and allowed himself to be led away by Ingil to where Lord Irmo was waiting for him outside Melian’s grove.

"The children are all waiting for you," the Vala said soberly.

"What have they been told?"

"Only that they will be staying with Melian for a while longer because you need to be alone."

"What about Lindorillë? How is she?"

Irmo gestured. "Why don’t you go inside and find out?"

Finrod squared his shoulders and with a nod entered the grove where he found the children seated around a table set just outside a pavilion waiting for him. He noticed that Lindorillë would not look at him. Veryandur gave him a tremulous smile but the other elflings just stared at him with uncertain expressions. Melian was seated at one end of the table and gestured for Finrod to take the seat opposite hers.

For several minutes they all sat there in silence. Finally, Finrod spoke. "I want to apologize to all of you," he said softly, not really looking at them. "Especially to you, Lindorillë." He looked up and saw the elleth giving him a wary look. "That letter...."

"You’re going to send us away!" Lindorillë yelled as she jumped up, her expression tearful. Melian reached over and gently forced her to her seat.

"No," Finrod said forcibly. "I am not sending you away. Any of you. That letter was a mistake. I knew it as soon as I wrote it. You were never meant to read it, Lindorillë. I meant to destroy it but was called away, remember?"

The elleth nodded reluctantly. Finrod glanced at Melian who gave him an encouraging smile. He turned his attention back to the children who were all now looking at him with wide eyes. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "In point of fact, I was seriously considering asking Veryandur’s and Eruanna’s parents permission to keep you two here a little longer. I think you would both benefit if you continue your apprenticeships."

The two younger children smiled at that and the three older ones looked somewhat more relieved, though Lindorillë still seemed doubtful of his good intentions. "You... you aren’t mad at me?"

Finrod sighed. "No, child, I am not, for none of this is your fault. Do you forgive me for the pain I inadvertently caused you, caused all of you?"

Lindorillë did not answer immediately but took turns looking at each of the other children. Some kind of silent communication passed between them and then she nodded once. Immediately all five of them rose as one and went to Finrod, simultaneously hugging him. Finrod felt tears welling and he looked up at Melian who was smiling benignly at them all. Then Ingil appeared and Finrod sighed, giving each of the elflings a hug and a kiss.

"I have to go, but I will see you all soon. Be mindful of Melian."

They all nodded and he rose, giving Melian a respectful bow. "Le hannon," he said softly, "an naid phâin."

She merely nodded and then Finrod left the grove, never looking back.

****

Lady Indis looked upon her grandson with some exasperation. "Stand up straight, Findaráto. Remember who you are."

Finrod flinched at her tone but did as she commanded, feeling all of ten years old. The second wife of Finwë was a spitting image of her brother, Ingwë, and she had the force of character to go with it. Finrod was beginning to wish he had never agreed to stay with her. Not that I was given much choice in the matter, he thought sourly as he took the seat on the settle.

Indis poured some tea and handed him a cup, speaking all the while. "When Lord Irmo came to me asking if I would let you stay here for a time, I was rather reluctant." She gave him a stern glance. "I never approved of any of you running off to Endórë, much less getting yourselves killed in the process. Thank Eru your atar had the sense to return, though his own actions afterwards left much to be desired."

Finrod raised an eyebrow at that, for he had yet to get a satisfactory answer as to what his atar had done after returning to Tirion. He had always assumed that the youngest son of Finwë and Indis had simply taken up the mantle of kingship but the hints and innuendoes, the things not said and those that were, led him to believe that something else had happened. No one was willing to talk about it, though, so he was still in the dark. He had the feeling from the set look on his anamillë’s face that she wasn’t about to enlighten him either.

"I’m sorry," he ended up saying. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Indis gave him a hard stare as if to determine if he was being facetious. Deciding he was actually sincere in his apology, she relented somewhat, giving him a dismissive sniff. "Yes, well, water under the bridge. You’re here now."

Just where I don’t want to be, he thought, though he kept his expression impassive before her.

For a long moment, there was silence between them. Finally, Indis gave him a more grandmotherly look. "So, tell me all about your engagement to Amarië. I understand you gave that arrogant Almáriel a black eye, so to speak. Good for you!"

Finrod just stared at the proper former Noldotári in surprise as she sat there drinking her tea and suddenly started laughing. Indis merely looked on with prim smugness, waiting for her indyo to calm down long enough to tell her all about it.

****

"What do you mean, I cannot see them?" Ingwion demanded of Estë. "And why can I not return to the grove?" He, along with Lady Estë and Lord Irmo, was seated in Irmo’s gaudily painted pavilion. Ingwion had been asking after his otornor and neither Vala had, in his opinion, been very forthcoming with answers.

"They are not available at the moment," Estë said patiently.

"And the grove is... under repairs," Irmo added blandly.

Ingwion stared at them both in disbelief. "Why?"

"Not important now," Irmo said somewhat forcibly. "The decision has been made to send you on to my sister. She will be expecting...."

Ingwion stood, his face red with fury. "I am not going anywhere until I get some answers. Do not presume to treat me like an elfling, my lord. I am not your apprentice."

"But you are mine."

Ingwion turned to see Námo approaching them, his expression grim. The Lord of Mandos was wearing a black watered-silk tunic under a black velvet robe. His elf-braided hair was graced with an actual crown made of mithril in the shape of flames in which was embedded a single many-faceted ruby. No other jewelry did he wear save for his Sun-in-Eclipse pendant. He looked forbidding and Ingwion involuntarily cringed, finding himself in his seat again. Estë reached over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a warm smile.

Námo looked about and gave his brother a wry grin. "What! No chair for me? I’m crushed."

Irmo snorted. "Considering you were not invited, you can just bring your own chair."

"Hmph... your hospitality is getting a bit thin lately," Námo countered even as a chair appeared and he sat down. His levity fled though as he gave Ingwion a hard stare. "We are not being capricious or arbitrary in our decisions, Ingwion. You are long overdue at Nienna’s and you know it."

"I just wanted to spend more time with..."

"Yes, yes, we know," Námo said, his demeanor becoming less forbidding. "Something has happened however that changes things."

"What? What has happened? Why am I being kept in the dark about this? Am I so beneath your regard that you just dismiss me as if I were a... a mere nothing?"

The three Valar stared at the ellon with various degrees of shock. Irmo reached over and put a hand on Ingwion’s arm to draw his attention. "You are not nothing, Ingwion, nor have we ever treated you or any of the other Children as such. You are all too precious to us, more so than you can ever comprehend." He leaned back, his expression troubled.

"My brother is correct, Ingwion," Námo said. "We are not dismissing you, but...." He raised an eyebrow at the other two Valar and some kind of silent communication passed between them that lasted only a second or two. "Very well, Child. We will tell you what has happened and then you may decide to stay or go. We will not gainsay your decision."

Ingwion nodded, mollified, but as the three Valar proceeded to take turns describing the fight between Findaráto and Glorfindel, his expression changed from disbelief to dismay. "What will happen to them?" he asked.

Námo sighed. "I only wish I knew, Ingwion. We all do."

That statement did not comfort Ingwion in the least. After a long moment of silence, he nodded. "My presence here will neither help nor hinder. I will go to Lady Nienna’s... for now. I only ask that you keep me abreast of any developments."

"I promise that if necessary you will be called back here," Námo said solemnly. "I hope that will not be the case, but in the meantime, you really are needed at Nienna’s." His demeanor lightened somewhat. "My sister has something planned for Vorondil and his atar and apparently, from what little she has told me, you play a large part in her plans for them."

Ingwion now looked more intrigued and grinned. "I’ll start packing."

****

After Ingwion left, the three Valar sat in companionable silence for a time. None of them evinced any surprise when Manwë and Varda appeared. Another chair was produced and the five of them held an informal council.

"We are agreed then that this is the only course left open to us?" Manwë asked without preamble.

"Do we really have any other choice?" Námo asked with a frown. "To do otherwise... and if the Eldar learn of it afterwards. I do not like the ramifications of that for any of us."

"Agreed," Irmo added. "I only regret it was one of my own...."

"And one of mine," Manwë reminded them. "It matters not. The damage has been done and we must do what we can to repair it."

"Yet, are we the ones to do the repairing?" Estë asked.

Varda gave her a nod. "My thought exactly, sister," she said. "Somehow I think more is going on than we know. I see Atar’s subtle hand in all this."

The other four nodded. "Then Judgment will commence on next Valanya," Manwë said gravely. "That will allow time for all interested parties to reach us."

"Atar help us all," Varda said fervently. "I sense we are walking a tightrope here and one slip and all will be for naught."

"All may be for naught anyway," Námo said gravely, his eyes taking on the distant look they all recognized as his being in the throes of a vision, "if we cannot figure out the real reason Glorfindel is in Lórien. He is the key to all this."

They all looked grim at that and then Manwë sighed, shaking his head. "Why am I not surprised?"

For once, none of them found anything funny about that question.

****

Le hannon an naid phâin: (Sindarin) ‘Thank you for everything’.