29: Afterwards

Finrod and Glorfindel walked across the Ring to where the royal couples were congregated before Manwë’s throne. A word from Ingwë had been enough to make the other elves disperse, leaving them alone.

Arafinwë cast his son a wry grin. “Aran Nargothrond?”

Finrod blushed. “Well, it was my title,” he said somewhat defensively.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize the significance of the signature before I... um... well, you know,” Glorfindel said apologetically, shaking his head in dismay. Finrod gave him a sympathetic grin.

“Why did you sign it at all if you were going to destroy it?” Olwë asked.

“I think we would all like to know the answer to that,” Ingwë said. He gestured to them. “Why don’t we continue this discussion on our way back to Eldamas?”

The others agreed and soon they were making their way past the Ezellohar and through the west gate, strolling along the Landamallë Valion, heedless of the fact that they were wandering unescorted, or so they thought.

“Well,” Finrod said as he and Glorfindel found themselves in the midst of their elders, “I knew I wasn’t going to send the letter so I was really just... er... doodling.”

“Excuse me?” Ingwë asked, raising an eyebrow. He was not the only one to do so.

Finrod shrugged, giving them a wry grin. “I wanted to see how it looked, just once more. I mean, my titles.” He ducked his head, now feeling embarrassed all over again. “I’ll never be king of my own realm again,” he explained softly, grimacing slightly. “I don’t really regret it... giving up the crown, I mean, but I... sometimes I miss it.” This last was said almost as a whisper.

By mutual consent they all stopped. Glorfindel stared in surprise at Finrod standing there looking dejected. The others exchanged worried looks. Finally, Arafinwë gathered his son into his arms. “I would be very surprised if you did not, hinya,” he said, planting a light kiss on the ellon’s brow. “You bore a grave responsibility and the fact that you relinquished it says much for your character.”

“Your atar is correct, Findaráto,” Ingwë said. “Crowns do not a king make and while you may never wear one again that does not diminish your own nobility which, frankly, needs no crown or title to affirm it.”

The others all nodded except Glorfindel, who gave them all a wicked grin. “Says he whose crown is bigger than everyone else’s.”

“Glorfindel!” Finrod yelled, punching him in the arm in mock dismay while laughing at the same time. “We don’t mention that sort of thing in public.”

“Why not? It’s true,” he protested while laughingly avoiding Finrod’s attempts to hit him again. The others just rolled their eyes.

Ingwë gave them an affronted sniff. “It is not bigger than everyone else’s. It’s just prettier.”

That set everyone laughing as they continued up the avenue and made their way towards Eldamas and the Laughing Vala. People on the streets turned to see the royals strolling along, looking carefree and unconcerned, and wondered, even as they gave them their obeisance. The kings and queens nodded to the citizens, most of them Vanyar, but otherwise did not stop to chat. When they reached the inn Ingwë asked for the same back room where they had all congregated the night before.

Soon they were seated, having requested a late luncheon. Only when the meal was set before them and they were left to their own devices did they begin to speak of the Judgment.

“A terrible thing to happen,” Elindis said without preamble, her expression one of pity. “That poor Maia.”

“Lady Nienna will treat her kindly,” Finrod said. “I think the Valar were more embarrassed than anything else by the whole thing. I’m surprised they did make it a public trial.” Glorfindel nodded in agreement.

“Not entirely public,” Ingwë said.

Finrod and Glorfindel both gave him puzzled looks. “It looked pretty public to me, lord,” Glorfindel said. “All those elves....”

“Were especially invited... by us,” Ingwë interjected. “Lord Manwë sent us specific instructions.”

“What instructions?” Finrod asked.

“Every one of the elves who were there have known sympathies for my brother,” Ingwë replied with a grimace.

“The list,” Finrod said almost to himself.

“Huh? What list?” Glorfindel asked, giving his gwador a hard look. It did not escape his notice that the others also looked surprised at Finrod’s words.

“You know about the list?” Arafinwë demanded.

“What list?” Glorfindel asked again.

Finrod nodded. “Of course I know about the list, Atar. Eönwë gave me a copy when he gave you yours.”

“Why did you get a copy?” Ingwë asked, sounding almost angry.

“Why didn’t I get a copy?” Glorfindel demanded. No one paid any attention to him.

“Because the health and well-being of Arda is one of my concerns,” Finrod said with a frown. “It is part and parcel with my being... well... you know.” He gave them an apologetic shrug, unwilling to mention the Fëanturnildi in a public setting.

“WHAT LIST!?” Glorfindel yelled, banging his fist on the table.

Everyone stared at the incensed ellon in surprise. Glorfindel, for his part, just glared at them, silently daring them to reprimand him for his outburst.

“The list of known sympathizers of Ingoldo and those who attacked Sador on Tol Eressëa,” Finrod replied, laying a calming hand on Glorfindel’s arm.

“And me,” Glorfindel insisted. “Don’t forget about me.”

“That’s hardly possible, gwador, with you shouting at us,” Finrod retorted, though he was smiling when he said it.

Glorfindel had the grace to look chagrined. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shout. So why wasn’t I shown this list?”

“And what would you have done if you had been?” Arafinwë asked.

“Well I wouldn’t have run off and attacked them, if that’s what you’re accusing me of.”

“No one is accusing you of anything, Glorfindel,” Ingwë said in a placating voice. “We know how badly you were hurt by some of these people.”

“The list was garnered from those two who survived the last attack on you,” Arafinwë said. “We’ve been keeping an eye on them ever since.”

“What I don’t understand is why Lord Manwë specifically told you to invite these people to the Judgment,” Finrod said.

“Can you not guess?” Ingwë said. “Lord Manwë is quite... devious when he wants to be. Inviting these particular people to the Judgment sent a double message: We know who you are and if we will not spare even one of our own, do not think yourself immune.”

Both Finrod and Glorfindel nodded, looking thoughtful. “Devious indeed,” Finrod commented.

“Even more than you might think,” Olwë interjected, joining the conversation for the first time. “Ingoldo was there along with the others condemned to exile.”

“WHAT!!!” The two younger ellyn rose almost as one, their expressions one of complete shock.

“Sit down,” Ingwë commanded in a soft voice, yet such was his power that they obeyed immediately.

"Wh-why didn’t we see them?” Glorfindel demanded somewhat belligerently.

“Probably because the Valar did not wish you to,” Ingwë replied. “In fact, I doubt anyone saw them.”

“Then how do you know they were even there?” Finrod asked in a reasonable tone.

“Because when Eönwë came to me with my... instructions” — He gave them a rueful look, one mirrored by Arafinwë and Olwë. Apparently none of them had enjoyed being told what to do in this instance. — “he also told me that Ingoldo and the others would be brought to the Ring to see for themselves the justice of the Valar.”

“So all of this was just an object lesson for the rest of us?” Glorfindel asked in disbelief. “Behave or this could be you in the center of the Ring?”

“Well, it was me in the center of the Ring,” Finrod said drolly. “Twice, though the first time I was the accused.”

“Your point is well taken, Glorfindel,” Ingwë said, studiously avoiding Finrod’s comments about his own Judgment. “Yet, notice that ordinary, law-abiding citizens were not invited to attend, only those whose sympathies towards those who have resorted to or at least have condoned violence against their fellow elves make them prone towards violence themselves. The rest of our people need no such warning.”

“But Lisselindë did not commit an act of violence,” Lirillë offered.

“Not in the traditional sense of the word,” her husband explained, “but certainly she did violence to that poor child, playing on her sense of self-worth to suborn her natural will.”

“And she did violate one of the cardinal laws by which the Valar are held by the One,” Ingwë added. “There is no denying that.”

Eärwen then spoke. “Do you think today’s object lesson will do any good?”

“We can only hope,” her husband said with a sigh. “I weary of it. I thought we had put all that nonsense behind us a long time ago.”

The others nodded in silent agreement.

****

Later, as they were sitting on a bench in the courtyard of the Laughing Vala enjoying the evening air, Finrod and Glorfindel were debating as to what they might do next. “Should we return to Lórien do you think?” Glorfindel asked somewhat dubiously.

“Well I know I need to get back,” Finrod said. “I don’t know about you.”

“I thought for sure we were going to be punished today ourselves,” the other ellon stated.

Finrod nodded. “Me too,” he said.

“Do you think they’re planning something nasty for us and they’re just making us sweat it out?” Glorfindel then asked.

Finrod gave him a measuring look. “Nasty how?”

His gwador shrugged. “Don’t know, but certain Valar, who shall remain nameless” — Finrod snorted at that and Glorfindel flashed him a mischievous grin — “are being awfully... cagey of late. All they did was separate us for a few days but they let us travel together....”

“Under armed guard,” Finrod interjected.

Glorfindel waved his hand in dismissal. “But they still allowed us to speak to one another and all. No. I think they’re up to something and we’re not going to like it.”

Finrod shrugged. “Well if they are, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Maybe we can run away.”

Finrod stared at Glorfindel in disbelief. “Run away where?” he cried.

“Hmm.... bad idea?” Glorfindel asked.

“To say the least.”

The two of them jumped up from the bench and bowed before the amused Lord of Mandos, both of them looking guilty. Námo gestured to them with a crook of his finger. “Walk with me.”

The two hastened to obey, with Glorfindel on Námo’s left. They exited the courtyard and made their way along the winding cobblestone streets, meeting no one, which was odd, for the night was still young and the streets of Eldamas were normally busy even at this hour. There did not seem to be any real destination in mind to the ellyn’s thinking, for their path seemed aimless. Eventually, though, they found themselves in a square off a narrow alley.

“I know this place!” Glorfindel cried, pointing at the small fountain of Ulmo and Ossë riding unknown sea creatures that graced the courtyard. “Ingwion and I discovered this place when I was here before. We never did learn why this fountain was hidden away here.”

Námo nodded. “The fountain has its own story but it is too long to tell it now and it is not the reason for my bringing you here.”

“Why did you bring us here, lord?” Finrod asked respectfully.

Námo did not answer immediately but gestured for them to take a seat on the bench that fronted the fountain. He sat between them.

“This square has the virtue of being seldom visited,” Námo said. “Indeed, I suspect that most of the people of Eldamas are unaware it even exists, so I doubt we will be disturbed.” He cast them a brief wintry smile. “That and the fact that three of Manwë’s warriors are stationed at the entrance to the alley to deter anyone who might wish to wander down this way.”

Both elves raised eyebrows at that revelation.

“Are we going to be punished?” Glorfindel asked, deciding to get to the point.

“Do you think you should be?” Námo asked unexpectedly.

The ellyn exchanged considering looks before they turned as one and nodded at the Vala. Námo sighed. “I think you both have been punished enough. You, Glorfindel have been returned to the gardens set aside for the Reborn while Findaráto must endure his anamillë’s sharp tongue and sharper wit.” He gave Finrod a knowing smile which the ellon did not return. “Plus, his interaction with the children is strictly limited at the moment.”

Glorfindel gave Námo a puzzled look. “You mean I’m being treated the way Celepharn was when Olórin took him away?”

Námo nodded. “Something like that, though in truth we thought it time that you and Celepharn become friends. Sador must someday renew his acquaintance with Celepharn and if he sees you have forgiven him for his unkindness toward you both....”

Glorfindel nodded, well aware of what Námo meant. “Still, it doesn’t feel like a punishment,” the ellon offered uncertainly.

Námo gave him an indecipherable look. “I can always make it worse, if you like,” he suggested softly and Glorfindel reeled slightly, feeling suddenly faint, and shook his head. “Good. Then be content that my brother and I do not seek to chastise you any further than we already have.”

“So why have you brought us here, lord?” Finrod asked again in the ensuing silence.

“There are things that must be discussed,” Námo replied. “We Valar are as curious as the rest of you as to why Glorfindel felt the need to go to Lórien at the last moment. More seems to be going on than meets the eye but even we cannot see what it is. A veil covers you Glorfindel.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, not literally,” Námo assured him with a smile, “but figuratively. You are an enigma wrapped up in a mystery.”

“I don’t mean to be,” Glorfindel objected with some dismay.

“Of course you do not,” Námo said. “You are just being yourself and we do not fault you for that. The truth is, though, we are at a loss as to what to do with you.”

“Why do you have to do anything with me?” Glorfindel asked, looking mulish. “Why can you not just leave me alone?” Silence stretched between them, for Námo refused to answer him. Finally, Glorfindel sighed. “I don’t recall being so much trouble to everyone when I lived in Gondolin,” he said with a grimace.

“Oh?” Námo said, looking at him in disbelief. “That’s not what I heard. You and Ecthelion especially were thorns in Turgon’s side.”

“We were his best captains,” Glorfindel nearly shouted in anger, standing to confront the Vala, “and his staunchest supporters... next to Tuor.”

“Peace, child,” Námo said. “I am merely pointing out that even in your previous life you were somewhat... volatile in your emotions. Have you not spoken of how in the end you and Turgon had a falling out over the issue of Maeglin, a dispute that was never fully resolved before the end?”

Glorfindel nodded reluctantly. “Turgon was wrong.”

“Yes, he was, and he and his people paid the ultimate price for his arrogance,” Námo said softly, remembering well the anguish and despair that had consumed Turgon’s fëa, so much so that Námo had forbidden his Judgment at the time. Even now the once king of Gondolin still lay in healing sleep guarded constantly by four Maiar until such time as he was deemed strong enough to face the Judgment of the Valar as all must who had participated in the Rebellion.

Glorfindel sighed, knowing that Námo was speaking of him as well. He was as much a victim of Turgon’s arrogance as any. Yet, he did not blame his king for his own death. The chances that any of them would have survived that night of horror had been slim to none and the fact that others did survive because of his sacrifice made his death worth it as far as he was concerned.

“I do not know why I feel the need to be in Lórien,” the former Balrog-slayer finally said in a dejected voice. “I’m not even sure if it’s in Lórien I should be or if I’m meant to be... elsewhere.”

Námo gave him a considering look while Finrod’s own expression was more troubled. “There are only two places near to Lórien that you can go,” Námo said reflectively. “One is to Mandos and the other is to Nienna’s.”

“Lady Nienna....” Glorfindel said musingly. “Ingwion is there, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is there,” Námo said, his voice and expression neutral.

“I think... I need to see Ingwion,” Glorfindel said, looking doubtful. “He wanted to tell me something while we were recovering from our... ordeal but he never got the chance. We were never left alone long enough to have a private conversation.” This last he said somewhat accusingly as he glared at Námo, who deigned not to answer.

“So you want to go to Lady Nienna’s?” Finrod asked.

Glorfindel nodded. “Though first I will stop at Lórien and make sure Celepharn has done the flet correctly.” He flashed them both a bright smile.

Finrod snorted. “As if you even know what a flet should look like.”

Glorfindel stuck his tongue out at Finrod. Námo merely smiled at their antics. “You will both return to Lórien tomorrow and then we will see about getting Glorfindel to my sister’s, though I suspect she will have something to say about that. She may not let you come,” he warned.

The ellon nodded. “Then would it be permissible for Ingwion to come to me instead?” he asked.

“We will see,” was the Vala’s only reply and Glorfindel had to be content with that.