37: Comparing Notes

Glorfindel gestured at Ingwion and the two of them moved away from the cauldron until they were far enough away to speak without shouting. "This is getting a bit old," Glorfindel stated with a scowl.

Ingwion had no words to say to that, his expression still blank with shock. Glorfindel looked around and saw that they had come to the same area where he had met the Maia. He turned his attention back to Ingwion. "It looks as if we’re stuck here for now. Let’s see if we can get a fire started somehow. I don’t fancy spending a second night without one."

Ingwion nodded, slowly coming out of his shock. "I’ll see if there is any deadfall while you build the firepit. At least there are plenty of rocks for it."

So they set about making camp, though it was a rather meager affair as they had no supplies or food. The fire, which was slow to burn, was a welcome sight at least.

"I’ve spent a night or two without much more than this," Glorfindel stated as the two of them huddled around the fire. "Before Turgon took us to Gondolin I spent some time hunting orcs through field and fen. Once, three of us were caught in a sudden spring flood. We lost all our supplies and spent several miserable nights trying to start a fire." He grinned at the memory and Ingwion shook his head.

"Nothing like that ever happened to me," he said softly, almost regretfully.

Glorfindel gave him a sharp look. "Be thankful," he said.

"But I’m not," Ingwion retorted with a scowl. "When the Valar called upon us to join in the War of Wrath, I wanted to go but my atar forbade it and now I’ve learned that even Arafinwë would not have allowed me to accompany him."

Glorfindel sighed. "I have no answer for you, Ingwion, save that nothing happens without a reason. If you were not meant to leave Aman, then you were not meant to and that’s the end of it."

"Easy for you to say," Ingwion almost snarled and Glorfindel gave him a surprised look that quickly became shrewd.

"You’re jealous, aren’t you?"

Now it was Ingwion who was surprised. "Jealous? Of whom? Of what?"

"Of those of us who left Aman and carved for ourselves new lives, sometimes even new identities. You wish you had done the same."

Ingwion shook his head. "No. I never wished that. My life is here in Aman; I wanted... want no other, but...."

"There is always a ‘but’, Ingwion," Glorfindel said not unkindly.

"I... I wanted to see where my cousins had gone," he admitted in an apologetic tone. "I wanted to see where they lived and where they... died."

"Ah...." Glorfindel said, suddenly understanding Ingwion a little better. "Beleriand was both more and less than what we expected; more, because it was beautiful in a way Aman was not, though I cannot tell you why."

"And less?" Ingwion enquired, now intrigued.

"Less, because it was already occupied by our sundered kin, who were doing quite well without us, thank you very much." The deprecating tone set Ingwion laughing and their moods lightened somewhat.

"Do you ever wish to return?" Ingwion asked after they had calmed down a bit.

Glorfindel shook his head. "It is not an option, so I do not think about it much."

"But do you?"

The Noldo sighed. "Sometimes, but what is there for me? Gondolin lies under the ocean, never to be seen again. All that I knew and loved is buried under the waves and I have only my memories to comfort me."

For a moment silence stretched between them. Finally, Ingwion stirred. "I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you pain...."

Glorfindel waved a hand in dismissal. "It is an old pain, brother, and so your apology is unnecessary. I know little of the War of Wrath save for its outcome. Is it true that Eärendil was able to sail unto Valinor to plead for the pardon of the Valar?"

"Yes, he and Elwing were the only ones...."

"Who?"

Ingwion gave Glorfindel a puzzled look. "You really do not know any of this?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "From what I can figure, whenever Eärendil’s name was mentioned, I was made to forget. Only since... returning can I think of him."

"I noticed when you and Finrod returned from wherever you were that you would look westward every day as evening fell. It was almost as if you were searching for something but never finding it, for you would come away looking angry."

"Vingilot," Glorfindel replied with a nod. "I was looking for Eärendil’s Star though I still cannot see it." He paused and gave Ingwion a scowl of frustration. "I never had any trouble remembering Turgon. I even remembered Idril and Tuor though I do not know what their ultimate fates were."

"No one does," the Vanyarin prince interjected. "We heard tales of how they set sail never to be seen again. If they ever reached these shores, none but the Valar know, and they say nothing."

"So I too have heard," Glorfindel stated. "Yet, of Eärendil I could learn nothing." He gave Ingwion a quizzical look. "Did you ever meet him?"

"Oh yes, but just the one time," Ingwion replied. "Eönwë brought him before the Valar when all of Eldamar was at Valmar celebrating. It was the first time any of us had seen a Mortal."

"Not entirely Mortal," Glorfindel corrected, "for he has the blood of the House of Finwë in him as well."

Ingwion nodded. "Yes, and because of that the Valar made him and Elwing, who also has Mortal blood in her, choose whether they would be counted among the Firstborn or the Aftercomers." He paused, his eyes distant with memory. "I always suspected that more lay in their decision than what was said on the surface."

"With the Valar, that’s usually the case, I deem," Glorfindel retorted with a wry smile.

"I remember when they brought Vingilot through Aman to the place where it was launched into the heavens," Ingwion said then. "I was permitted to be present when the Valar hallowed it."

"It’s beautiful," Glorfindel said, his expression rapt.

Ingwion raised an eyebrow at that. "How would you know?"

"I sailed on it," came the surprising answer and Ingwion’s protest died on his lips when he saw the absolute sincerity in Glorfindel’s eyes.

"Perhaps you should tell me about it," the Vanya said softly.

For a moment it appeared that Glorfindel was not going to say anything as he stared into the fire, but then he started speaking, his voice low, as if to himself. "Finrod ran away and I was all alone...."

Ingwion forced himself not to interrupt Glorfindel’s narrative in spite of the fact that he wanted to know just why his cousin ran away and where did he run to. Instead, he schooled himself to stillness and sat in growing wonder as Glorfindel spun his tale, one that sounded very familiar.

****

"... And then I woke up and found myself back at our camp, but Finrod was not there, as had been promised," Glorfindel was saying as he wound up his tale. "I waited and waited and he never came back and then Lord Námo appeared."

Ingwion sat there in silence, simply nodding to let Glorfindel know he was listening. He was thinking of the conversation between Glorfindel and... the Other. It was interesting how Glorfindel’s talk with Him and his own were similar in scope if not in content. "And have you?" he asked.

Glorfindel gave him a quizzical look. "Have I what?"

"Set aside your anger at the Valar as you were commanded."

Glorfindel glowered. "They make it difficult for me to do so."

"Perhaps," Ingwion said, then he gave Glorfindel a wry look. "So let me tell you what happened to me."

Glorfindel’s only response was to raise an eyebrow as Ingwion began describing how he was led to the Chapel of Stars and what followed. When he finished his narrative there was silence between the two ellyn for some time after with only the crackling of the fire and the sound of the stream somewhere behind them disturbing their ruminations.

Finally, Ingwion decided to speak. "Do you see the similarity of messages?"

"How can they be similar?" Glorfindel asked in surprise. "For me the message was ‘stop being an elfling in a tantrum’ but for you the message was ‘look to the future and not the past’. I don’t see the connection."

"Then perhaps you are not looking deep enough."

Both ellyn scrambled to their feet, Glorfindel instinctively going for his sword, looking about for the owner of the voice that had come to them from out of the darkness. A figure came into view and in the fitful firelight they could see who it was.

"You!" Glorfindel exclaimed, not relaxing his stance, even going so far as to step before Ingwion, who was unarmed save for a small hunting knife.

Nyéreser raised a hand. "Peace, Glorfindel, you have no need to fear me."

"I will decide whom I will fear and whom I will not." Glorfindel retorted coldly, sounding more like the Elf-lord that he once was, his expression grim, his stance that of a warrior about to go into battle.

"Ah, Glorfindel," Ingwion drawled, "This is the... um... person I told you about earlier."

Glorfindel nodded, never taking his eyes off the Maia. "He says his name is Nyéreser but does not state to which of the Valar he owes his allegiance. I find that highly suspicious and I’m in no mood for Valarin mind games tonight."

Nyéreser gave the ellon a measuring look and then a slow smile graced his visage. "I owe formal allegiance to Lady Nienna, but she... um... loans me out to the other Valar at need."

"I don’t remember seeing you at Lady Nienna’s," Ingwion said, stepping around Glorfindel’s more massive frame, frowning as he attempted to recall the faces of all the Maiar he had met in the house by the shores of the Ekkaia.

"I rarely interact with any of you Children," Nyéreser replied, his tone kindly. "My... interests lie in a different direction. So when both Lady Nienna and Lord Námo asked me to take on this assignment I was quite intrigued."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at that. Then he sheathed his sword, relaxing his stance somewhat though both Ingwion and Nyéreser noticed his hand never strayed far from the sword’s hilt. Long ingrained courtesy took over and Ingwion bowed to the Maia, gesturing towards the fire. "Would you join us, my lord? I fear we cannot offer you the hospitality of my atar’s halls, but you are welcome to share our fire."

"Now that you’re here," Glorfindel muttered ungraciously and Ingwion reached behind and gave him a slap on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" he cried, glowering at the prince as he rubbed his head.

"Be nice or I’ll make you regret it," Ingwion replied and the utter seriousness of his tone gave Glorfindel pause.

He blushed and muttered an apology that was even halfway sincere and both Ingwion and Nyéreser accepted it graciously, the Maia giving them both a knowing smile.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he said with easy grace. "Your fire is welcome and I’ve brought dinner."

At that he gestured and a basket of food appeared at Glorfindel’s feet. Both ellyn gasped in delight and Nyéreser watched with amusement as they fell on the repast. It was several minutes before either bothered to speak.

"I can almost forgive the Valar for keeping us in this Eru-forsaken vale against our wills," Glorfindel said with a sigh as he sipped his wine, settling back against the rock that was his seat.

Nyéreser gave him a disbelieving look and Glorfindel actually chuckled. "I said, ‘almost’."

"Ah..." was the Maia’s only comment while Ingwion just rolled his eyes even as he drank his own wine, deciding reprimanding his otorno wasn’t worth it. Silence that was almost comfortable stretched between the three of them as the elves sipped their wine and the Maia sat in eternal patience.

"Why are you here, lord?" Ingwion asked at the last, deciding it was time to get down to business.

"Glorfindel is being his typical dense self," Nyéreser replied calmly. "My masters have decided he needs some further... instruction."

"They can bloody...."

"Glorfindel!" Ingwion shouted. "Remember what I said and you should know me well enough by now to know I do not make idle threats."

Glorfindel subsided, his expression mulish, refusing to look at either of his two companions. Unexpectedly, it was Nyéreser who uttered an apology. "Forgive me," he said with all sincerity, "that was uncalled for. The truth is, Glorfindel, the Valar wondered at your need to see Ingwion. They knew you both had an encounter with, shall we say, the Numinous. While they knew what happened with you because you told Lords Manwë and Námo, they never learned what happened to Ingwion."

"Why the subterfuge?" Glorfindel asked. "Why this manipulation if they were so bloody interested in what we had to say to one another?"

For a moment it seemed the Maia would not answer the ellon’s question but finally he sighed. "I do not know, child. I only know what I’ve told you. The Valar did not deliberately keep you two apart out of malice but out of concern for you both. Your experiences were, how to say it, life-altering?"

Ingwion nodded though Glorfindel merely shrugged.

Nyéreser smiled. "At any rate, they deemed it necessary to give you both time to come to terms with what you experienced without the influence of the other." He looked directly at Glorfindel. "You claim that the only message you were given was to stop acting like an elfling and grow up."

Glorfindel nodded but said nothing.

"What were the exact words which were spoken to you?" Nyéreser demanded.

"To put aside my anger," came the reluctant reply.

"And what else?"

Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed as he wondered what the Maia was getting at, but he nevertheless took the time to think it through before answering. "The Valar sought to protect me from myself and mine oaths because... because they love me." This last was spoken in a whisper.

The Maia nodded. "And what was Ingwion’s message?"

Glorfindel stole a glance at his otorno who sat there impassively, his expression unreadable. "The Past was the Past and he could do nothing to change it, but...."

Nyéreser held up a hand to forestall him. "Is that not the message you have been given over and over again, child? Was that not the lesson of Gondolin?"

Glorfindel paled at that and unconsciously started to rub his peridot ring, a gesture both Ingwion and the Maia noted with some concern. "I don’t understand," he finally said and his tone was that of a confused elfling.

It was Ingwion who answered him, placing a hand on the ellon’s shoulder. "Your anger... it ties you to the past, to what was done to you for your own protection, though I know you do not see it that way. Until you let that go, you cannot move forward, just as I had to let go of my grief for one whom I lost, a grief that I now realize kept me here in Aman when I wanted to join the Host of Valinor during the War of Wrath." He turned to Nyéreser. "That’s why Atar refused to let me lead the Vanyar, isn’t it? He feared that my grief would make me... careless, that I would seek death for myself."

The Maia nodded; Glorfindel stared at Ingwion in disbelief. "Yes, that is partly the reason," Nyéreser answered, "though it is not the only or even the real reason why you were forbidden to join us."

Now Glorfindel turned to Nyéreser, his gaze measuring. "You fought among Macalaurë’s troops."

It was less a question and more a statement. Nyéreser nodded. "I did indeed and adopted their braids for myself. When his brother decided to steal the Silmarili, I tried to persuade Macalaurë against it, but their atar’s oath was too strong for him to break free." The Maia shook his head. "I could never figure out how they thought to escape detection surrounded by an army of Maiar."

"They probably had forgotten what it was like to live in Aman," Glorfindel suggested.

"Perhaps," Nyéreser allowed. "At any rate, I continue to wear these braids in honor of the elf Macalaurë could have been — indeed, should have been — had his atar not twisted his destiny for a bauble. Someday, it is our hope that Macalaurë will forgive himself and seek healing here in Aman."

Silence stretched between them as the two elves contemplated the implications of the Maia’s words, not only for the last living son of Fëanáro, but for themselves. Finally, Nyéreser spoke. "Do you see the connection now, Glorfindel?" he asked kindly. "Do you see why you and Ingwion needed to speak? Each of you had part of the answer the other needed. Ingwion needed to hear the message that all is done out of love for you Children however it may seem to the contrary and you needed to hear that only in letting go of the Past can you ever hope to have a future worth living. Both of you are angry at the Valar but for different reasons and both of you cling to a Past that can never be reclaimed, again for different reasons. Yet, neither of you can grow in the way you were meant to until you leave both your anger and your Past behind."

"I started to do that in this vale," Ingwion said.

Nyéreser nodded. "And we are all well pleased with your decision, my prince. Glorfindel’s revelation was just the last piece of the puzzle for you, though, wouldn’t you say?"

Ingwion nodded. "Yes, it was."

Then Nyéreser turned to Glorfindel. "And you, child? What do you say?"

Glorfindel looked up at the Maia, his expression troubled. "I... I don’t know. Everything just seems so... so confusing."

"We don’t expect you to change overnight, Glorfindel," Nyéreser said gently. "That is too much to ask of anyone. We just want your promise that you will at least think about what you’ve learned this night even if you cannot come to any real decision yet."

"I... I will try to do my best," Glorfindel said somewhat reluctantly.

Nyéreser smiled. "It is all any of us are ever asked to do, child." Then he stood and the two elves followed. "I will leave you now. Fear not for your friends. They have been told that you are well and safe and will join them in the morning. When you leave this vale, go to Lady Nienna’s; she’s expecting you... all of you." This last was directed rather pointedly at Glorfindel who actually grinned, giving the Maia a nod of acknowledgment.

Ingwion bowed. "Thank you, my lord, for everything."

Nyéreser took him by the shoulders and bent down to give him a kiss in benediction on the brow and then did the same to Glorfindel. "Nai Eru let mánata," he said and then he was gone.

The two elves stared at the spot where the Maia had been for a moment or two before stirring. "He could have at least led us out of this stupid place," Glorfindel groused, bending down to throw another log onto the fire before resuming his seat on the rock.

Ingwion laughed as he joined him. "Maybe he felt we still needed time alone."

Glorfindel shrugged then cast Ingwion a wry grin. "As long as he left us the wine, I guess I can live with it."

Ingwion laughed again and held out his goblet. "In that case, you can do the honors."

Glorfindel reached for the decanter and poured more wine in both their goblets. As the night progressed and they continued to share their stories, it did not escape their notice that the decanter never seemed to get empty, which suited them just fine.

****

Macalaurë: Quenya form of Maglor.

Nai Eru let mánata: (Quenya) ‘Eru bless you (both)’; this is an attested phrase, though the pronoun is changed to reflect the dual form.