46: What Others Were Doing

Laurendil dismissed Lisselindë when their duty rotation ended, telling her he was pleased with how she had conducted herself that day, thanking her for her assistance. The Maia blushed slightly, gave him a respectful bow and faded from view. He then turned to Mithlas and suggested they go see Finrod. "I know he will be glad to see you," the healer said, but Mithlas was reluctant to leave his naneth and sister.

"They’re sleeping now," Laurendil said soothingly, "and they are being closely watched, just as you were when you first came here for healing."

The Sinda nodded, somewhat appeased. "I know, but somehow it...it’s different...."

"I know," Laurendil said sympathetically, "but we’ll not be far and you need rest. When was the last time you slept?" He gave the ellon a shrewd look and the blank expression on the Sinda’s face answered his question. "Let’s go see Finrod and you can give him your greetings."

Mithlas nodded, giving him a wan smile as they made their way towards Finrod’s grove. "I’ve been so busy seeing to Naneth and Mitheryn, I’ve barely said hello to anyone."

Laurendil smiled. "Well now that the initial crisis is over you can relax a bit. Ah... here we are."

They entered the grove to find themselves in the middle of what appeared to be an argument. Finrod was standing outside his pavilion facing Ingil. From their expressions it was clear that the elf was angry while the Maia appeared to be mildly amused.

"...and just how long is that going to be?" Finrod was asking as Laurendil and Mithlas entered. The two ellyn stopped, not sure they should be a witness to whatever was going on. Laurendil made to leave, beckoning to Mithlas, but Finrod saw them and with an impatient gesture motioned for them to remain where they were.

Laurendil sighed, looking resigned; Mithlas simply looked curious. He had yet to see Finrod in what Laurendil termed his ‘King of Nargothrond’ mood and seeing Finrod facing off a Maia was... interesting, to say the least.

"It will be as long as it needs to be, Findaráto, and no longer," Ingil replied mildly.

"That is not an answer and you know it!" Finrod exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "I see no reason why there is always one of you lot hanging around whenever the elflings and I are together. I find it insulting and the children are beginning to feel intimidated."

Ingil frowned slightly. "Intimidated? In what way....?"

"They are always on their best behavior whenever we are together," Finrod said.

Now Ingil exhibited surprise. "Is there something wrong with that?" he asked and the three elves could see the Maia was clearly confused.

Laurendil couldn’t help chuckling, though he tried to stifle his laughter. Mithlas had a wide grin on his face. Both Finrod and Ingil turned at the sound of Laurendil’s chuckle. Finrod’s expression was still one of anger though they could see a glint of amusement in his eyes as well. Ingil frowned at them, as if he just realized they had an audience, though none of the elves believed this.

"Perhaps you could explain," Finrod said to Laurendil, gesturing for him and Mithlas to approach. He smiled warmly at the Sinda. "Mae govannen, mellon," he said, giving the Sinda an embrace. "Lord Irmo told me you had come. How are your naneth and sister doing?"

If Mithlas was surprised that Finrod already knew why he was in Lórien he gave no indication. "Laurendil says they will recover given time."

"Good, good," the prince said. "I am glad." He then turned to Laurendil, rasing an eyebrow in expectation.

Laurendil grimaced as he faced the still waiting Maia. "You’ve never really dealt with elflings before, have you?" he asked and Ingil shook his head.

"Actually," he replied, "few elflings find their way here and those that do are usually not in a position to do anything but lie still. I still don’t understand what these children being on their best behavior has to do with anything. I would think you would want them to be." He stared pointedly at Finrod who nodded.

"At the appropriate moments," he said, "but to expect children to be on their best behavior at all times is expecting the impossible. They are elflings, not... not Maiar," he ended, sounding exasperated.

When Ingil raised an eyebrow at that, Laurendil stepped in. "He means, that we don’t expect them to behave all the time; it’s not natural." He turned to Finrod. "From what I gather, aranya, the elflings are feeling stifled whenever they interact with you because there’s always a Maia present."

"Exactly," Finrod said, nodding emphatically. "And quite frankly, I am finding myself feeling equally stifled. I am afraid to even pat them on the head in case someone misconstrues my action and thinks I’m going to harm them, which I would never do." He glared at the Maia.

"You and Glorfindel...." Ingil started to say but Finrod just threw up his hands again in frustration and stormed off, muttering angrily to himself.

He didn’t go too far, only to one side of the grove before turning around and stalking back to them, his expression still angry. "If Lord Irmo does not call off his watchers, I will take the elflings to Tirion with me."

"You cannot leave...."

"Am I a prisoner here?" Finrod fairly screamed, now incensed. Ingil actually took a step back, his expression wary. Laurendil and Mithlas, on the other hand, held their ground. "If so, then I suggest you chain me. The Valar know it wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to me, though this time I would like it to be a mithril chain. Sauron’s chains were made of iron and rather rusty," he quipped, though none of them could tell if he was being serious or not. "I will take the elflings with me to Tirion where none of the Valar have dominion," he continued, speaking more softly and sounding more dangerous. "I can do my work as easily there as here and none of you will be allowed to interfere with my interactions with the children."

"Are you threatening....?" Ingil started to ask with a frown but he stopped when Finrod gave him a feral smile.

Without taking his eyes off the Maia, he said, "Tell him, Laurendil."

The healer gave Ingil a thin smile when the Maia turned to him. "Findaráto never makes threats, Ingil, only promises. Just ask any of the Valar. They’ll tell you."

For a long moment there was silence as Ingil digested all he had heard. Finally, he said, "I will speak to Lord Irmo about this." Then he gave them all a bow and faded from view.

"As if Lord Irmo doesn’t already know," Finrod said, still fuming. Then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his anger dissipating. He glanced at the other two ellyn and gave them a sheepish smile. "Sorry you had to witness that," he said as he gestured for them to enter the pavilion and sit while he poured them some wine. "I’ve been trying to get Lord Irmo to call off his watchers for days now, but this is the first time any of the Maiar have bothered to speak to me about it and relay my message since Lord Irmo and Lady Estë appear to be suddenly and inexplicably unavailable." He gave them a sour grin.

"Maybe they’re hiding," Laurendil said with a smile. "They know what you’re like when you go all King of Nargothrond on them."

Finrod chuckled as he took his own seat. "No doubt you are correct. Well, there’s naught I can do about it at the moment, so tell me the news, Mithlas. What is happening on Tol Eressëa?"

Mithlas shrugged. "It’s been rather quiet. Those who attended the tournament have been talking about nothing else and everyone is eager to hear the details. Gilvagor and others are keeping a close eye on things, though. I suspect that he is in constant communication with both the Noldóran and King Olwë."

Finrod nodded. "So I was told by Atar in his last missive to me."

"I did not stop in Tirion on my way here, so I did not have a chance to see Sador," Mithlas said. "How is he doing? And Beleg? Have you heard any news from him?"

Finrod snorted. "They were here not too long ago... without permission, I might add, and immediately got themselves into trouble." He then related the events surrounding their arrival and what followed. Mithlas could only sit there, shaking his head in disbelief. "By now they will have returned to Tirion," Finrod concluded. "I have no idea what Atar or Anatar will do with them, but I’m sure it won’t be pleasant." He gave them a droll look and they all laughed.

****

Sador and Beleg, in fact, were not having a pleasant time at all.

When they went missing, Arafinwë immediately sent word to Olwë as well as a troop of guards to bring the errant ellyn back. When the escort returned without them, saying that they had been told by a Maia of Lord Irmo that the Lord of Lórien would see to their return in due time, the Noldóran stifled an oath, wishing the Valar would just for once stop interfering with their lives. By the time Olwë arrived, he was calmer, but when the two miscreants finally returned looking sheepish — As well they should!, he couldn’t help thinking — his ire rose again.

"Do you have any idea what you put us through with your stupidity?" he asked them in a scathing tone.

They were in his private study, he, Olwë, Sador and Beleg. Eärwen had wisely decided to leave any punishment to her husband and atar. If there were any tears afterwards, she would be there to dry them and offer comfort, though she would not gainsay whatever decisions were made by the two kings. Arafinwë and Olwë sat while the two younger ellyn stood facing them, shuffling their feet and not looking up.

"Sorry," Sador muttered, though he looked more angry than apologetic at that moment. Beleg’s expression mirrored his friend’s. Both ellyn resented the way everyone was treating them, as if they were no older than Veryandur.

The two kings exchanged exasperated looks. "Your apology seems somewhat lackluster," Olwë said mildly.

Sador looked up, his eyes blazing. "I resent being treated as if I’m a... a brainless Mortal."

Both Arafinwë and Olwë sat up straighter with identical looks of concern on their faces. "No one...." Arafinwë started to protest but Beleg cut him off.

"As am I," the ellon said. "I was a Marchwarden of Doriath, one of Elu Thingol’s trusted councillors, but apparently that counts for nothing here. Here, I’m a Reborn and a nuisance. Here, I’m treated as if I were ten. I may have died, and my memory of my former life may be... faulty, but I know what I was and I know who I am."

"And who is that?" Olwë asked softly, a hurt look lurking in the depths of his eyes.

The ellon stared at Olwë. "I am Beleg Cúthalion. I fought against orcs and other demons of Morgoth for many long ages, keeping the borders of Doriath safe. I... I died at the hands of... of one whom I loved... whom I still love as a brother. I think I deserve a little more respect than what I’ve received so far. Newly Reborn I may be, but I am not an elfling needing anyone’s permission for anything."

"We’ve discussed this before, child," Olwë said. "No one is disputing anything you’ve said, but your emotional responses to things are those of an elfling and it will be some time, a century, before you become emotionally mature. I wish it were otherwise, but it is not and we both have to live with it."

"That goes for you as well, Sador," Arafinwë said. "I know it’s difficult for you and I understand your frustrations, but you are going to have to learn to accept the situation as gracefully as you can. If you can demonstrate to me that you are taking your responsibilities seriously, I will treat you as you deserve."

"What responsibilities?" Sador asked with a scowl.

"You’re learning to be a diplomatic aide to Findaráto," Arafinwë replied, sounding exasperated.

"It’s hard to be an aide to someone who’s never around to require any aid," Sador retorted in a rather petulant tone.

"And what of your apprenticeship with Netilmírë?" Arafinwë continued, ignoring Sador’s comment. "She was rather upset that you left without giving her any notice or even asking for her leave. I hold your wardship...."

"I’m not an elfling," Sador growled. "I’m of age. I don’t need to be anyone’s ward."

Arafinwë sighed, feeling hurt at the ellon’s obvious truculence. He glanced at Olwë, hoping the older elf would have something to say. It seemed as if both young ellyn had had plenty of time on their way back to Tirion to share their feelings of frustration with one another and to line up their arguments accordingly. He couldn’t really fault them. He well remembered he and Eärwen having similar arguments with Findaráto in the early stages of their reacquaintance with the stranger bearing their beloved firstborn’s face. It had been somewhat trying and he thought he had mastered the art of defusing irate Reborn by now, but apparently having two of them at the same time was different from dealing with only one. Thank the Valar we don’t have Glorfindel here as well, he thought and shuddered mentally at the image that thought evoked.

"And you, Beleg," Olwë said, "I noticed that at the first opportunity you jumped at the chance to leave Alqualondë. Why is that, hinya?"

"Alqualondë is not my home," the ellon responded quietly, not looking at his uncle, thus missing the hurt in Olwë’s eyes. "And I tire of being stared at, snubbed or just ignored by... your people." He took a deep breath before going on. "Also, I feel... useless. In my previous life I had a purpose, but now I have nothing. All that I was is looked upon by the Teleri as...wrong. When I’m with Sador or Finrod I don’t feel... worthless."

Olwë closed his eyes at the pain he could detect in the ellon’s voice and then he stood and took Beleg into his embrace, rubbing his back. "I am sorry, hinya. I wish I could wave my hands and wish away the prejudices and misconceptions of our people, but I cannot. We Teleri, of all the Eldar, were the most grievously hurt by the madness that consumed Fëanáro. We are still recovering from the shock."

"It’s the same complaint we are hearing from the Returnees in Tol Eressëa," Arafinwë said, "even more so than from the Reborn, for Lord Irmo sees that they are given instructions in various crafts if they did not practice one before their deaths. The warriors who have sailed are finding it difficult to adjust to their new surroundings."

Olwë stepped back to give Beleg a quizzical look. "Did you learn anything while in Lórien?"

Beleg smiled. "I am one of the greatest archers in Arda," he said without any arrogance. "I was crafting my own bows, arrows and quivers before I was fifty. I need no other craft to support me. I’m rather interested in those... altaquingar used by the Vanyar. I would like to learn the making of them. I can also give lessons in the art of archery, the constructing of bows and the fletching of arrows."

"And you have no interest in learning anything else," Olwë said somewhat sadly.

Beleg paled, realizing he may have insulted his own uncle and looked contrite. "Until I came to Alqualondë I had never even seen the Sea and the one time I sailed with you, I was... um... sicker than Túrin was after he ate some mushrooms he shouldn’t have." He gave Olwë a rueful look and the King of the Teleri threw back his head and laughed.

"That you were, hinya," he said jovially, giving the ellon another hug. "That you were."

"I watched the Tol Eressëans at the tournament," Sador said out of the blue. "They were not just happy, they were... contented, perhaps for the first time since coming to Aman, I deem, if what you say is true, Atar. Gilvagor and Laurendil did tell you about the sense of unrest that has become endemic among the Returnees. Of course, all that nonsense with the Amaneldi did not help."

Olwë gave Arafinwë a knowing look. "I noticed how all the Tol Eressëans and not a few of the Amaneldi who fought in the War of Wrath always saluted Eönwë whenever that Maia made an appearance."

Arafinwë nodded. "He was the Captain of the Host of the Valar and held the supreme command. Even Ereinion, who is the High King of the Noldor still residing in Endórë, deferred to him."

"I wish I had lived long enough to see that," Sador said wistfully. "I mean, the Host of the Valar coming, not Gil-galad bowing to Lord Eönwë, although that would have been fun to see, too...." His voice trailed off in embarrassment as the others stared at him and then Arafinwë started laughing.

"It was quite a sight, I assure you," he said.

"How did the Elves of Heceldamar react?" Olwë asked. "I have never gotten a full report on what happened from you."

"They were at first quite welcoming and very relieved to see us," Arafinwë answered. "Unfortunately, many of our warriors, especially among the Vanyarin, gave them the impression that this was a... rescue mission and the elves of Heceldamar were at best poor cousins who were to show proper gratitude to their saviors."

"I bet that didn’t go over well," Olwë said with a wry look.

Arafinwë shook his head. "It did not and there was almost dissension in the ranks because of it. Lord Eönwë put a stop to it almost at once, reminding the Host that their mission was to defeat Melkor. Whatever their personal feelings about the elves of Heceldamar, they were as beloved of the Valar as any of the Amaneldi and they were not to be disparaged."

Arafinwë sighed and then gave a piercing stare at Sador and Beleg, who had remained still as the two kings spoke, hoping not to draw attention back to themselves and remind the older elves of why they were there.

No such luck.

"But enough history," the Noldóran said. "We were discussing you two."

"What do you mean to do with us, Atar?" Sador asked resignedly.

"Why, put you to work, of course," Arafinwë replied in a tone that indicated that the answer should have been obvious.

"What sort of work, lord?" Beleg asked, looking somewhat disconcerted. He had visions of himself and Sador on their hands and knees scrubbing the front hallway of the palace with tiny brushes and forced himself not to shudder.

"Starting tomorrow Sador," Arafinwë replied, "you will return to your studies as a junior diplomat and you will also begin attending council meetings, which is something you have not done before. You will also go to your anamillë after we speak here and apologize to her. I’m sure she will have her own ideas about suitable punishment for an apprentice who leaves without his master’s permission."

Sador nodded, expecting no less and relieved it wasn’t worse. Having to attend council meetings did not seem too onerous. He remembered Finrod and Glorfindel telling him about them.

"As for you Beleg," Arafinwë continued. "With your uncle’s permission I would like you to start training the Noldor in archery."

Beleg gave him a surprised look and turned to Olwë, seeking confirmation. His uncle nodded. Olwë decided then that when Beleg was done teaching the Noldor he would have him do the same with the Teleri. No one knew when the final war against Melkor would commence. The Teleri had kept out of the doings of the other Amaneldi to their detriment. He had vowed to himself as he watched helplessly while his city went up in flames that they would not make that mistake again.

Beleg turned his attention back to Arafinwë. "You want me to teach them archery, lord?"

"Yes," Arafinwë answered with a nod. "We Noldor are excellent swordsmen, but we know little of the bow and I think it high time we learned. The Vanyar excel in the use of the altaquinga. I would like to see my people at least become efficient in its use."

"As I would for the Teleri," Olwë said, "so when you are finished teaching the Noldor all that you know, you will return to Alqualondë to do the same there."

Sador frowned. "I thought we were going to be punished," he said, giving the two kings a suspicious look. "Yet, I am only going to be doing what I have been doing since coming to Tirion and Beleg is going to be doing what he loves best: be an archer."

Arafinwë nodded. "True, but you fail to see the point."

Both ellyn shook their heads in confusion and gave him quizzical looks.

"The point is, hinyar," Arafinwë said, "that punishing you is a waste of time. You fully expected to be punished for what you did and I suspect that in some perverse way you were even looking forward to it." He gave them a knowing look and they both had the grace to blush. "Well, you’re about to be disappointed, because instead we intend to give you the responsibilities you crave and demand. You will find, Sador, that your duties, especially now that you will be attending council meetings, will leave you little time for future mischief. The same goes for you, Beleg."

There was silence between them for a long moment and then Sador turned to Beleg, speaking Sindarin. "Correct me if I am wrong, gwador, but I think we both have just been promoted."

Beleg snorted and Arafinwë smiled, having gotten the gist of what had been said. Olwë’s own expression was unreadable. He would wait until the ellyn left before he asked Arafinwë for a translation.

****

All words are Quenya.

Altaquingar: Plural of altaquinga: Great War Bow of the Eldar.

Amaneldi: An attested plural of Amanelda: an Elf of Aman. One would expect the more normal plural form *Amaneldar, but apparently Tolkien decided differently in this case.

Heceldamar: Beleriand. A learned word used by the loremasters of Aman, literally meaning ‘Land of the Forsaken Elves’ i.e. those who forsook the Sea journey once they arrived in Beleriand.