47: Illuminating the Past

Irmo had already decided that Beleg and Sador would remain in Lórien just long enough to offer Findaráto their apologies for their part in the ‘Reborn Rampage’ as everyone in Lórien was calling it. They had arrived early enough in the morning that they could easily set out again an hour or so later and be well on their way to Valmar before the day’s end. Ingwion would be going with them part of the way, leaving them for Vanyamar once they reached Eldamas. He, Aldundil and Vorondil did not accompany Beleg and Sador to their meeting with Finrod. In fact, Finrod was unaware that they were even in Lórien, for Irmo had warned the two younger ellyn not to reveal that information to their gwador.

"One thing at a time," Irmo told them as he led them to Finrod’s grove. "The meeting between Findaráto and Vorondil needs to be handled delicately and I know he and Ingwion have things they need to speak about in private."

Thus, their own meeting with Finrod was brief and to the point. The Noldorin prince had since lost his anger if not his disappointment and accepted their apologies graciously enough. "You should have trusted me," he said at the last. "You and Glorfindel should have trusted me. We’re supposed to be gwedyr after all."

The hurt the two ellyn sensed from him pierced their own hearts and they went away feeling much chastened, wondering if they had lost not only Finrod’s love but his respect. Finrod was not ready to assure them of the contrary.

"They should have trusted me," he reiterated sadly to Irmo when the two of them were alone once again.

"Your gwedyr, even Glorfindel, are still very young emotionally," Irmo said gently. "They see you more as the elder brother and we all know that elder brothers were born to interfere with the fun of their younger siblings." He gave the elf a knowing smile and Finrod was forced to acknowledge that bit of truism.

"I wish we could have left Mandos together," he said with a sigh. "There are times when I really hate having to be the responsible one."

"I know," Irmo said sympathetically and then he gave Finrod a wicked smile. "Which is why I’m eternally grateful to Ilúvatar that Námo is the older brother, not I."

Finrod stared at the Vala in disbelief for a moment or two and then burst out laughing at the implications of Irmo’s statement. "Then I guess Lord Námo and I are more alike than I’d thought," he finally said.

Irmo refrained from commenting. "Ingwion has also come," he told Finrod. "He will leave with Beleg and Sador to return to Vanyamar. Will you see him?"

"Of course," Finrod said in surprise. "Why would you even ask?"

"I am merely being the polite host," Irmo replied, his expression now unreadable to the elf.

Finrod snorted. "Is he coming to me or am I going to him?"

"Both," was Irmo’s answer and before Finrod could question him, he was on his way out of the grove and the ellon was forced to follow.

They did not go far, for coming down the sward was Ingwion escorted by Nielluin, whom Finrod recognized as Lady Estë’s chief Maia. The two cousins greeted one another warmly and with much affection.

"I wish you could stay longer," Finrod said. "I’m beginning to feel deserted."

"I wish I could as well," Ingwion responded with a smile. "Unfortunately, I have my own duties that have been somewhat neglected of late."

Finrod nodded in understanding. "Will you give your family my love?" he asked, sounding somewhat wistful.

"Of course," Ingwion replied. "That goes without saying." He gave his cousin a knowing look. "What troubles you, Findaráto? I’ve not seen you so... dispirited."

Finrod sighed. "While everyone was away I finally had the opportunity to actually examine some documents Lord Irmo gave me detailing something of what happened here in Aman when... when I was away."

Ingwion felt the blood rush from his head, leaving him feeling suddenly faint, and stole a glance at the Vala standing calmly beside them, listening to their conversation but not a part of it. Irmo’s expression was unreadable though his eyes were bright with some emotion Ingwion could put no name to. He turned his gaze back to Finrod. "Wh-what did you learn?"

Finrod shook his head. "Too many things... and not enough," and there was a note of deep frustration in his voice that made Ingwion wince.

"What do you not know of those times?" Ingwion asked in a hoarse whisper. He was loath to speak of that period in his life, yet he owed it to his cousin to tell him what he needed to know. He doubted that either his atar or Arafinwë would be fully forthcoming with details. Even he did not know the entire story and probably never would, but he knew more than most, having been in the very center of the events that nearly tore Eldamar apart.

Finrod stared at Ingwion, gauging the level of unease he sensed from his cousin, an unease that was near to panic and he wondered at that. Instinctively he put his arms around the Vanyarin prince and hugged him. "It can wait," he whispered into Ingwion’s ear. "When you are ready. I will not press." He gave the ellon a light kiss on his forehead in benediction, then stepped back, giving him a warm smile.

"I’m sorry...." Ingwion started to say, but Finrod just hugged him again.

"Don’t be," he said. "When you are ready."

"And if I’m never ready?" Ingwion asked, giving his cousin a somewhat sardonic look.

Finrod shrugged. "Well, there’s always Indil...."

Ingwion’s eyes widened at the implied threat. He knew Findaráto was only teasing him but he couldn’t help giving him a fierce scowl. "Leave her out of this," he growled half-convincingly.

"Or what?" Finrod couldn’t help retorting, though there was a glimmer of laughter in his eyes that did not go unnoticed by Ingwion.

"Or I will tell Glorfindel, Sador and Beleg all about your elflinghood," Ingwion replied with a smirk. "I have lots of stories to tell. I suspect even Glorfindel doesn’t know much about your early years, seeing as how you were already an adult by the time he was born. I’m sure he’ll find them endlessly amusing."

"That’s blackmail!" Finrod exclaimed in mock anger.

"No, that’s revenge," Ingwion replied with an arch of an eyebrow. When Finrod just stared at him blankly he gave a supercilious sniff. "You still owe me for that shovel you hit me with."

Finrod threw up his hands, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "Oh for the love of Ilúvatar!" he muttered.

Ingwion looked to Irmo, giving him a satisfied smirk. "Guess I win this round," he said and the Vala started laughing, having enjoyed the bantering between the two cousins. Nielluin just smiled.

Finrod found that he couldn’t stay angry at Ingwion, though. They knew each other too well. He gave Ingwion another heartfelt hug. "All right," he said, "I won’t go to Indil...."

"Wise move," Ingwion said with a straight face.

Finrod gave him a stern look. "But someday we will talk, won’t we?"

His cousin nodded, looking more sober. "Soon, I promise," he said. "I just need some time to think some things through first."

"As I said, when you are ready, Cousin," Finrod replied. "Now, I think you had best go see how Sador and Beleg are getting on. I imagine you want to get on your way sooner rather than later."

Ingwion nodded and the two cousins embraced one last time before Nielluin led the Vanya away, leaving Finrod alone again with Irmo. The Vala gave him a sympathetic look, for Finrod was watching Ingwion walk away with a wistful expression on his face.

"You’ll see one another soon enough," Irmo said. "And now, there are two more people whom you must see."

Finrod turned his attention back to Irmo with a questioning look. Irmo merely gestured and they resumed their walk, coming to another grove where Vorondil nervously awaited Finrod’s arrival with his atar, wondering if his master would accept him back. Aldundil was also nervous though for different reasons. Finrod stopped in surprise when he saw the two of them and looked at Irmo for confirmation.

The Vala nodded. "My sister deemed them ready to return to the fold, as it were," was all he said.

Finrod stared at him for a long moment before turning back to Vorondil and Aldundil. Vorondil stood there, looking lost and forlorn and not a little scared but when Finrod opened his arms wide he gave a gasp and ran into his embrace.

"I’m so-sorry... I’m sorry...." he stuttered as he wept.

"Hush now," Finrod whispered in his ear, gently rocking him. "All is forgiven. Welcome back, child. The other elflings have missed you, as have I." He pulled back to give the ellon a smile. "Now I can finally have my tunics folded correctly. Veryandur is completely hopeless at the task."

Vorondil stared at Finrod for a moment, wondering if his master was serious, but when Finrod gave him a wink, he burst out laughing. "I guess I should teach him then," he said.

Finrod gave him another hug, keeping one arm around Vorondil’s shoulders as he greeted Aldundil. "I’m glad to see you as well, Aldundil. I trust your time with your son was well spent."

Aldundil bowed. "Indeed it was, aranya," he answered, "and you should know that I’ve resigned my office in the Noldóran’s government. I’ve taken up a new career as an illuminator."

Finrod nodded. "So Atar informed me in his last missive. I’m glad that you have found a new calling. I hope it works out for you."

"As do I," Aldundil admitted. "I have yet to know if I can even provide for my son and myself as an illuminator. The income generated by my personal estate barely covers the cost of maintenance."

"You need have no fear of that," Finrod said. "I have already decided that the history of Heceldamar should not be lost even if it now lies within Lord Ulmo’s realm never to rise again. I have begun to compile such an account, at least of my own part in it, and would like you to illustrate it. You were there," he said, forestalling Aldundil’s half-hearted attempt to decline the commission, "unlike most of the illuminators working in Tirion or elsewhere in Eldamar. You will be able to render scenes and people more accurately than they."

"I did not see everything or meet everyone," Aldundil protested. "And I am only just beginning to learn the art of illumination. Surely there are others more skilled than I...."

"That may be," Finrod said with a smile, "but the difference is you are here and they are not. Also you are my vassal, in case you’ve forgotten, and they are not."

Aldundil had no answer to that observation so he did the only thing he could: he bowed low and thanked his lord for the opportunity to serve him. Finrod’s smile deepened.

"Well, that’s settled," he said with satisfaction. "Now, why don’t we gather up the elflings and Laurendil and Manwen and have a celebration." He turned to Irmo. "Do you suppose the cooks could come up with something special for us for lunch?"

Irmo smiled and nodded. "I’ll see what we can do." With that, he left them.

Finrod turned to Vorondil. "Why don’t you go find your friends while your atar and I look for Laurendil and Manwen. We’ll meet back at my grove."

Vorondil did not waste any time, but gave Finrod a hasty bow before rushing out. Finrod shared a smile with Aldundil. "So, why don’t you bring some of your work and you can show it to us over lunch."

Aldundil bowed and went to find his portfolio before the two of them left the grove.

****

Ingwion was quiet and somewhat distant as he, Sador and Beleg made their way into Eldamas. He had been thinking about his conversation with Findaráto while journeying between Lórien and Valmar and was lost in memories of an earlier, darker time. The other two ellyn quickly left him alone and were not too surprised, if a little hurt, when he decided not to stay the night with them at the Laughing Vala but elected to continue on to Vanyamar in spite of the fact that it was now late afternoon.

"I have no desire for sleep," he told them, "and I would like to get home sooner rather than later. I will borrow a fresh horse from the stables and be on my way after I’ve had a bite to eat."

Beleg frowned and Sador sighed. "Are you angry at us?" he asked.

Ingwion gave the younger elf a surprised look. "No, Sador. I am not angry with you or Beleg. I... I just have much on my mind and I need to consult with my atar about some things. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much company anyway. Best I continue on. Give my regards to Arafinwë and Olwë and everyone else, will you?"

Sador nodded and Ingwion gave him a brief but heartfelt hug and did the same with Beleg. "Now, behave, both of you," he admonished them somewhat sternly. "If you do not wish to be treated as an elfling, stop acting like one."

The other two ellyn nodded sheepishly. An hour later they were waving farewell to Ingwion as the Vanya rode away, their expressions wistful.

****

Ingwion reached Vanyamar before midnight and when he identified himself to the gate guards he was readily admitted into the city. Once he was sure his two horses were being cared for he made his way to the palace where he was surprised to see his atar still awake, though it appeared the rest of the household was asleep. Ingwë gave him a warm hug.

"Something told me you would be home tonight," the High King said as he and Ingwion took seats before the fireplace. "So I decided to stay up even though I have an early court session in the morning." He poured some wine from a decanter for them both.

"You shouldn’t have stayed up on my account, Atto," Ingwion said after taking an appreciative sip. "I will probably seek my own bed soon enough."

"May I ask what drove you to travel through the night rather than staying in Eldamas until the morning?" Ingwë asked.

Ingwion stared into the fire burning on the grate, not sure what he should say, if anything. "Findaráto is asking questions," he finally said in a soft voice, "questions about what happened in Aman after the Noldor left." He turned to look at his atar, his expression bleak. "What do I tell him?"

Ingwë shook his head. "I had hoped that he would be spared that knowledge."

"Why?" Ingwion asked in surprise. "It is not as if he knows nothing about it. Findaráto told me that the Reborn are instructed in the history of Aman from the time of the Darkening until the present."

"But only in generalities," Ingwë reminded him. "They are not given personal details, at least not by the Maiar or the Lóriennildi. That is the responsibility of their families if and when they are asked. You know the reluctance on both sides to seek such answers or to give them." Ingwion nodded, well aware of the conspiracy of silence that had recently come to light amongst the many elven factions, whether Reborn, Returnee or Amaneldi. All appeared reluctant to speak of their experiences, either out of a sense of shame or regret or because it was too painful a memory for them to recount. "I know Arafinwë will not speak of that time willingly," Ingwë continued saying, "not even to me."

"What should I do, then?" Ingwion asked. "What should I tell him?"

Ingwë sighed, rubbing the space between his eyes. "I honestly do not know, yonya. I can only advise that you listen to what your heart tells you."

Ingwion nodded, took a final gulp of the wine and put the goblet on the table. "I will retire now," he said as he stood. "I have much to think on. Do you require me at court tomorrow?"

Ingwë rose as well. "Actually I do, but you are excused if you wish. You’ve had a long journey...."

"That does not matter," Ingwion assured him. "I will be there. Goodnight, Atto." He started to give his sire a respectful bow but Ingwë stopped him and embraced him, giving him a fatherly kiss.

"Goodnight, child," he said, then let him go. For some time afterwards, Ingwë sat before the fire deep in thought. Dawn was only a few hours away before he finally sought his bed.

****

Ingwion did not fall into bed immediately either. Instead he undressed and readied himself, but then he threw on a house robe and sat in his sitting room before the unlit fire, mulling over his conversation with his atar. He found himself fiddling with the ring Lord Námo had gifted him and on a hunch softly called out his master’s name. He didn’t really expect anything so he was pleasantly surprised when a multitude of colored lights, too bright for him to look at directly, coalesced into the dark figure of the Lord of Mandos. Ingwion stood and gave the Vala his obeisance.

"I didn’t really think you would come," he said, "but I hoped."

"You are troubled," Námo said, his eyes dark with concern.

Ingwion nodded and gestured to the other chair. "Will you sit and I will explain?"

Námo sat while Ingwion went to a sideboard and poured some wine for them both. When he turned around he gave a startled gasp, for there was now a cheery fire blazing away in the grate. Námo smiled. "I thought a fire would be welcome."

Ingwion smiled back as he sat down, handing one of the goblets to the Vala. "I wasn’t going to bother as I need to sleep soon. Atar needs me in the morning for court."

Námo nodded, sipping his wine, but said nothing else, waiting for Ingwion to explain why he had summoned him. Ingwion took a sip of wine and sighed, staring into the fire.

"I need advice," he finally said, not looking at the Vala.

"Advice is a two-edge sword," Námo said in a flat voice.

"I know," Ingwion said softly, "but I am at a loss as to what to do."

"Then tell me, child," Námo said gently.

Ingwion proceeded to tell him about his conversation with Findaráto and then with Ingwë. "What do I tell Findaráto?" he asked as he concluded his narrative. "How do I explain what really happened? Even I don’t know what really happened. Not entirely. I know I was... not myself at the end and much that happened after is... hazy."

"I know," Námo said sympathetically, well aware of the mental state the prince had been in at the time.

"Atar says to listen to what my heart tells me," Ingwion continued.

"Your atar is very wise," Námo said. Then he gave the ellon a piercing glance. "So, are you asking me if you should tell Findaráto everything or if you should remain silent?"

"I promised him we would talk," Ingwion replied, not willing to commit himself either way.

Námo shrugged. "Then I do not see the conflict. Speak to him. Answer his questions. He needs to know what happened, Ingwion, even if only from your perspective, which admittedly is limited. He needs to have the past illuminated or he will not understand what he sees happening around him in the present, for it has no context for him. Without that context he cannot hope to prepare himself for the future."

"Is that what he is trying to do?" Ingwion asked, sounding perplexed. "Prepare himself for the future?"

"It is what we all do on one level or another," Námo replied. "Our past illuminates the present and from that we draw conclusions about the future. Right now, Findaráto is staring into the darkness and has no light, if you will, to guide him, so he cannot make intelligent decisions about the future."

"But he was not here at the time," Ingwion protested. "Why would what happened here affect him in any way? Certainly, the events in Heceldamar don’t affect me and you don’t see me asking questions about what happened there."

The Lord of Mandos gave his apprentice a hard stare and Ingwion gulped, unsure what was going to happen next. "You speak foolishly, child," Námo said coldly and the light of the fire seemed to dim perceptibly and the temperature in the room dropped noticeably. "What happened in the elvish realms your cousin and the other Exiles carved for themselves very much impacts on the lives of the people of Aman. One need only observe the conflicts that have arisen of late over the Returnees and Reborn now populating the land. Conversely, what happened here impacts those who were not present just as surely as it does those of us who were. It is, in fact, simply all of a piece with Melkor’s taint and the Marring that we must all endure until the End."

For several tense moments Ingwion remained silent, mulling over the Vala’s words. Finally, he shook his head. "I’m afraid," he muttered as he looked at Námo, his expression bleak.

"What frightens you?" Námo asked, his voice low and non-threatening.

"The truth," came Ingwion’s answer.

Námo nodded, his expression sympathetic. "The truth is the most frightening thing of all, for there are no defenses against it and it lays our fëar bare. Yet truth is our only real weapon against the Darkness. Truth is the real illuminator of our lives, Ingwion. Truth is what sets us free from self-doubt and self-pity. Truth is what Findaráto needs now. He cannot adequately function in his new role without it."

Ingwion sighed, recognizing the verity of Námo’s words. He gave the Vala a sly look. "Would you tell him, then?"

Námo raised an eyebrow. "He asked you, Ingwion, not me. If he ever bothers to ask me I will tell him, but until then, I’m afraid it is up to you."

"That’s what I thought you would say," Ingwion replied in a dejected tone. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair. "You must think me a coward," he said without opening his eyes.

Námo leaned over and brushed a hand over the ellon’s hair. "Never," he replied. Then, he stood, drawing Ingwion with him. "You should rest. Dawn comes soon and we don’t want you falling asleep in the middle of court, do we?"

Ingwion snorted. "I guess not," he admitted. He looked upon the Vala shyly. "Thank you for putting up with me."

"I don’t ‘put up’ with you, Ingwion," Námo said. "You’re my apprentice, but more than that, you are one of the Eruhíni, and it is a joy to serve you."

The ellon frowned. "If I’m the apprentice how is it you’re the one doing the serving?"

"Ah... now that’s a question for another time," Námo responded with a light chuckle. "Go to bed, my prince."

Any inclination on Ingwion’s part to continue arguing was forestalled by a large yawn. He gave Námo a sheepish smile, bowed and made his way into his bedroom, closing the door. Námo resumed his seat, staring at the fire, looking up only when he sensed the presence of Irmo seated in the chair Ingwion had recently vacated. The Lord of Lórien gave his brother a quizzical look.

"Why did you give Findaráto those documents?" Námo asked, his tone one of mild curiosity rather than of censure.

"I felt it was time and he has been asking," Irmo replied.

"When he learns the truth he will be devastated," Námo observed.

Irmo shrugged. "Perhaps, or perhaps not. It’s rather hard to say with that one. There are depths to Arafinwion that only Atar can fathom, I deem."

"Hmph," was Námo’s only reply.

"Do you think Ingwion will tell him?" Irmo asked after a moment or two of silence.

"I’m counting on it," Námo said. "We all are."

Irmo nodded, then sighed. "Let’s hope it’s worth what will follow from it."

"You mean Arafinwë," the Lord of Mandos said.

"Yes," Irmo replied shortly. "He fears he will lose his son’s respect when Findaráto learns what happened after his atar turned back. He’s been dreading this since the day Findaráto was released from my care."

"I know," Námo replied, "and I regret...."

Irmo snorted in a most unVala-like manner. "Tell that to Arafinwë."

"His fears are baseless," Námo insisted. "Findaráto loves him too much. Arafinwë will never lose either his son’s love or respect."

"I sincerely hope you are right, brother," Irmo retorted somewhat gruffly.

"May I point out that it was you who gave Findaráto the documents, not I," Námo couldn’t help saying in a rather prim manner.

"And we may all live to regret that decision on my part," Irmo replied somewhat sadly.

"A risk we are all willing to take," Námo said with a slight grimace.

Irmo gave his brother a jaundiced look. "We, perhaps, but what of the Children? We have not asked any of them if they are willing to take the risk."

Námo sighed and nodded, acknowledging the truth of his brother’s words. "I suppose we have no choice but to play this out to the end. More is at stake than the loss of a son’s love and respect for his atar."

"Yet, that loss, if it happens, can change everything," Irmo stated. "Are we prepared for that eventuality?"

Námo did not answer immediately, and when he did, he spoke so low Irmo had to strain to hear. "I hope so."

"Atar help us if we’re wrong," Irmo retorted with a sigh as he faded from view, leaving Námo alone in Ingwion’s sitting room staring morosely at the fire.

****

Author’s note: While some of the events alluded to in this chapter will be addressed in subsequent chapters, the full story will appear in a future tale, In Darkness Bound.