70: At the Blue Dolphin

Finrod woke to find himself in a strange bed, staring up at a ceiling of carved wood beams, wondering where he was. He stirred and immediately his atar was there, leaning over him, giving him a concerned look.

“Wh-where am I?” Finrod asked, licking dry lips, as he struggled to rise.

Arafinwë reached over to a night table and poured some water into a cup, handing it to Finrod who accepted it gratefully. “We’re still at the Blue Dolphin,” Arafinwë answered as he sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“My throat is sore and my arm is stiff,” Finrod answered after taking a drink, looking at where a bandage covered the wound on his arm, “but otherwise I am well.” He gave the now empty cup to his atar, who replaced it on the table. “Edrahil?” he asked.

“Still sleeping,” Arafinwë answered. “He’s in the room next to this one. Laurendil is watching over him.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Maybe an hour or so, not very long,” came the answer. “Are you hungry? You never did have lunch.”

“Starving, actually,” Finrod said with a smile. “Searching for Edrahil as I did used up much of my energy, I think.”

“Which is why you fainted, no doubt,” Arafinwë said, standing. “I’ll have hot water sent up and the privy is at the end of the hall. Come down and join us in the private parlor and I’ll have something waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” Finrod said as he climbed out of the bed, stretching and running his hands through his locks.

Arafinwë nodded and left. Finrod decided to look in on Edrahil while waiting for the hot water to come. Laurendil looked up from the book he was reading and gave him a smile as he entered the room. “Are you well, aranya?” he whispered, putting the book down and rising to greet his friend.

Finrod nodded. “Well enough. I’m starving more than anything. Atar is seeing to that while I freshen up. I just wanted to check on Edrahil.”

“He still sleeps,” Laurendil said as Finrod made his way to the bed to look upon the ellon. “If you are awake, I think he will waken soon himself.”

“And probably just as starved as I am,” Finrod said with a smile and Laurendil chuckled. Then Finrod left and fifteen minutes later he was making his way down the stairs and to the parlor where he found the others. They gave him looks of concern which mutated to expressions of relief when he smiled.

“That was scary, what happened,” Sador said as he came to Finrod and gave him a hug. “Don’t ever do that again,” he admonished him, sounding like Veryandur.

Finrod laughed. “I’ll try not to,” he said, “but I make no promises.”

“I’ve ordered lunch for you,” Arafinwë said, “and for the rest of us, as we never got to finish our own lunch and no one was particularly hungry while we were waiting for you to awaken.”

There was a knock on the door as he was speaking and Mithlas opened it. Belegorn and Margil entered with trays loaded with food and drink while a couple of servers came in behind with trenchers and goblets. The proprietor gave Finrod a searching look as he put down his tray. “I am glad that you are better, my lord,” he said.

“Thank you,” Finrod said. “I appreciate all the help you and your son have given us today.”

Belegorn nodded and gave them all a bow. “If there is anything else I or my people can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask.”

The kings thanked the proprietor and when he and Margil and the servers left, everyone fell upon the repast, though they insisted that Finrod have first dibs on everything. Soon, though, they were all eating. There weren’t enough chairs for them all to gather around the table, so additional chairs had been brought in and the two Tol Eressëans who had followed Finrod back to the inn, along with Celepharn, Elennen and Calandil, sat where they could, balancing their trenchers on their knees.

“So, what exactly happened?” Olwë asked as they began eating.

Finrod explained between mouthfuls and the others were suitably impressed by his tale. As he was finishing describing his conversation with Lord Námo, there was a knock on the door and before anyone could answer it, it opened to reveal Laurendil there with a sheepish looking Edrahil.

“I trust you saved some for us,” Laurendil said with a smile as he and Edrahil entered to glad greetings from the others.

“Here, Laurendil,” Calandil said as he stood. “You take my chair. I’m finished.”

Elennen stood as well. “As am I,” he said, gesturing for Edrahil to take his seat, even as Margil appeared at the doorway with additional trenchers and goblets, having seen the two ellyn descending the stairs. He then offered to find additional chairs but the two guards assured him that would not be necessary. With a warm smile of thanks from everyone, the young ellon bowed and left them, closing the door behind him.

“How are you faring, Edrahil?” Finrod asked, pouring some wine into a goblet for him.

“A little confused, aranya,” the ellon responded as he filled his trencher. “I am not sure what exactly happened to me.”

“You suffered the blood trance,” Glorfindel answered, “and that was bad enough, but then you apparently attempted to flee your hröa when you realized whom you attacked.”

Edrahil nodded. “So I gather from what Laurendil told me when I awoke, but I don’t have any clear memories of doing so.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Which is just as well. Take it from someone who has suffered something similar to what you experienced.”

“At any rate,” Finrod said briskly, “the important thing is that you are still with us and all is well between us, is it not?”

Edrahil nodded. “Yes, aranya. All is well between us. I only regret that I....”

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Finrod insisted. “It happened. It has happened to others, including me, and no one thinks the less of you because of it. So, let us put it aside and go on to other matters. For instance, where are the ellith and Eärnur?”

Several people shrugged. “We are assuming that they are still with Bronweg and Handir. We did not arrange for them to meet us here anyway.”

Finrod nodded, then turned his attention to Eredhel and Dúnamdir. “And how are you two faring?”

The two ellyn gave him surprised looks, not expecting him to enquire after their well-being. “Well enough, my lord,” Dúnamdir answered and Eredhel nodded.

“Good,” Finrod said, giving them a warm smile. “I regret that we met under such trying circumstances, though.” There were chuckles all around.

“While we were waiting for you to awaken,” Arafinwë said then, “we’ve been talking with Eredhel and Dúnamdir as well as with Belegorn and Margil about how they feel about things here in Tol Eressëa. Belegorn, naturally, would like to see more commerce between us. He was quite happy to see mainlanders, as he put it, patronizing his inn.”

“Balamir’s parents felt the same,” Olwë interjected. “We were in the process of negotiating a sale when Beleg felt the need to find Findaráto. I plan to return to the shop and conclude my business with them before we leave Tavrobel.”

“And don’t forget the ginger biscuits,” Beleg chimed in. “They’re the most important item of purchase.”

Olwë and Lindarion laughed. “Not to worry, Cousin,” Lindarion said. “I’ll make sure we put in a large order for the biscuits before we set sail again.”

“So, what do you feel about all this?” Finrod asked the two warriors. “Have you been here long or are you new come to these shores?”

“We came recently,” Eredhel replied. “We were actually looking for employment here when we had our encounter with you.”

“What sort of work are you looking for?” Finrod asked as he took a sip of his wine.

The two ellyn shrugged. “Whatever we can find,” Dúnamdir said. “Unfortunately, we both have been warriors for so long we don’t really have any employable skills. I’m beginning to regret ever sailing.”

“Why did you?” Sador asked.

Eredhel was the one who answered. “Why do any of us?” he retorted. “Beleriand is no more and our own lords are dead. As able a king as Gil-galad is, we found we had no desire to live under his rule. Also, there is a darkness that many are sensing growing in the east. We do not know what it portends, save that some of us are weary of warfare and would know peace.”

“But peace in Endórë is a fragile flower, quick to bloom and quicker to fade,” Dúnamdir added. “We decided to find a place where peace lingers, though I have gotten the feeling that even here in the Blessed Realm, peace is a chancy commodity.”

“There is no doubt that the Sérë Valaron has been seriously breached of late,” Arafinwë said with a nod. “Yet, that is why we are here, to see to the healing of that breach.”

“Have you any family here?” Finrod asked them.

Both ellyn shook their heads. “They are either still living in Endórë or they are in Mandos,” Eredhel said quietly, not quite looking at anyone. “And any who reside in Tirion would not want us back, I deem.”

“It is one reason why we decided to sail,” Dúnamdir added, “to be here when our loved ones are finally released.”

“Their stories are not dissimilar from any others,” Haldir said. “I was fortunate that Gwilwileth was there to greet me. She spent the intervening centuries perfecting her culinary skills and was able to find employment as a cook in one of the inns in Kortirion, so she is able to support us both while I work at developing the talents that have nothing to do with warfare.”

“You were always good with organizing the warriors of the House,” Glorfindel said. “Surely, such a skill can be useful elsewhere.”

Before Haldir could reply, Pelendur spoke, looking darkly between his son and Glorfindel. “You were a member of Lord Glorfindel’s House,” he said to Haldir, “yet, I sense little love between you. It is almost as if you will not acknowledge each other’s existence.”

Glorfindel and Haldir exchanged bemused looks before Glorfindel turned to Pelendur. “That is untrue,” he said. “Haldir was one of my ablest warriors and I trusted him with my life. Indeed, I still do, but our deaths changed the relationship between us.”

“You do not have this Life Oath between you that I’ve heard about?” Pelendur asked, clearly puzzled.

Both ellyn looked shocked. Indeed, all those who had once been of Beleriand looked equally shocked. “Oh no,” Glorfindel replied. “The Life Oath is something that exists only between one’s sovereign lord and oneself. Turgon held my life in his hands, and through me, those of my House, but never did I hold such an oath with my retainers. Indeed, such would be forbidden, given the nature of the Oath.”

Finrod nodded. “Only the kings, or, in the case of my cousins who ruled their own demesnes, ever held such Oaths.” He turned to Eredhel and Dúnamdir. “Are you Life Bound to either Amras or Amrod?”

“I am to Lord Amrod,” Dúnamdir said, “but Eredhel is not bound.”

Eredhel shook his head. “I wished not to enter into such an Oath, yet, in my own way, I am bound to Lord Amras. He was ever a good lord to me and mine.”

“You followed them when they attacked the Havens of Sirion, though,” Sador said, “along with Maedhros and Maglor.”

Both ellyn nodded, now looking pale. “Something that we both regret and always will,” Eredhel said. “We tried to make up for what we did during the war, always putting ourselves at the forefront of the worst of the fighting, but I fear our hands are too blood-stained for any to forgive us.”

There was silence for a bit and then Sador rose from his chair and stood before the two ellyn who stared at him with some confusion. “I was there at the Havens,” Sador said gravely, “and I died there, trying to protect my sister from being slain. I have no idea who slew me nor do I care. It matters little now, at least to me. For my part, I forgive you for whatever you may have done that day, though others may not.”

He gave them a measuring look and then resumed his seat. There was complete silence in the room, and all saw the tears that coursed down the faces of the two ellyn. Arafinwë gave Sador an approving look. “Nicely done, yonya,” he said.

Then Olwë spoke. “And I, too, forgive you for whatever you may have done at Alqualondë, assuming you did anything.”

“Actually, by the time we reached your city, my lord,” Dúnamdir said, “much of the fighting was over. We did little but succor the wounded among the Noldor and bring them to the ships.”

“How did you feel when Fëanáro ordered the ships to be burned when you reached Losgar?” Glorfindel asked and both ellyn sighed.

“It was ill done,” Eredhel said and Dúnamdir nodded. “I felt the sorriest for Lord Maitimo, for he truly wanted Lord Findecáno to join him and I could see the look of shock and sorrow and despair that was on him when his atar ordered the ships burned.”

“It took some time for us to reconcile with the Fëanorians,” Finrod said. “If Findecáno had not gone to look for our cousin at Thangorodrim and rescue him from Melkor, I think we would have ended up becoming so divided that our Leaguer against Melkor would have failed before it was started.”

There were nods all around by the Noldor who had gone into exile, while the others had thoughtful expressions on their faces.

“Well, getting back to our earlier discussion,” Arafinwë said, looking at Eredhel and Dúnamdir, “what hopes do you have for yourselves now that you are here?”

The two ellyn exchanged considering looks before Dúnamdir answered. “Mainly, we just want to feel useful again. When we first came here we lived for a time in Avallónë, but we realized that we both missed our old homes in Tirion and desired to at least look upon the shores of Eldamar even though we are forever forbidden to step foot there.”

Arafinwë shook his head. “Not forever,” he said. “I have been told by Lord Oromë that in time the Valar plan to allow any who live here to remove to the mainland. Indeed, new lands are being opened up south of the Pelóri for any who might wish to carve for themselves new lives, though any who desire to return to Tirion will be welcomed to do so.”

“Truly?” Eredhel asked, his eyes almost pleading. When Arafinwë nodded, he gave a great sigh. “I would like that. I find I have no real desire to return to Tirion. What life I had there is no more and I don’t wish to try to reclaim it, but I would enjoy going to the new lands. It will almost be like when we came to Beleriand and had to build our lives anew there.”

“What did you do in Tirion before you left?” Haldir asked. “I doubt you were warriors then, no more than I or Gilvagor or any of the rest of us.”

“True,” Dúnamdir said. “I was apprenticing to a farrier at the time.”

“Truly?” Finrod asked with great interest. “I learned the art of making horseshoes when I was in Lórien. Lord Aulë gave me my first lesson and Lord Irmo would not let me ride until I not only was able to make the shoes but also put them on the horse that they gave me while I was there.”

Arafinwë chuckled. “And I remember when you first returned to us how critical you were of the shoeing of our horses, insisting that it was sloppy work and you could do better.”

“And I could,” Finrod said with a laugh. “Still can, in fact.”

“What about you, Eredhel?” Ingwion asked, entering the conversation for the first time. “What were you doing at the time?”

“My family owned a small farm in the Southern Fiefdoms,” he answered. “I hated it there, actually, though looking back I know that I had a good life. I guess I was just too restless to see that.”

“Would you like to take up farming again?” Finrod asked and the ellon shrugged.

“When I told my parents that I was leaving,” he told them, “my atar said that if I did I was no longer his son and I would never be welcomed back.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Arafinwë said with a sigh. “I fear that is all too common a sentiment among those who chose not to leave.” Pelendur expression went thoughtful and he stole a glance at Haldir, who refused to look at anyone.

“There is little farming here on the island,” Mithlas said then, “but we do breed cattle and sheep and horses.”

“And we were at Pêl Cuil ’Wain earlier,” Laurendil said. “They specialize in improving livestock feed as well as the breeding of horses, sheep and cattle.”

“In fact, the people who run the garth told us they were looking to hire additional help,” Finrod said. “So, if you will, go to them and tell them that Finrod Felagund commends you to them. I do not know what your duties might be, but at least you will be gainfully employed and perhaps you will find a new calling.”

Eredhel and Dúnamdir exchanged glances and then nodded. “Thank you, lord,” Eredhel said. “We will go there now, if it pleases you.” Finrod nodded and told them how to find the garth and to whom they should speak.

“I wish you both well,” he said, and all the others echoed him with their own good wishes. The two ellyn then bade them all farewell and departed.

“Well, I think it’s time for us to return to our camp,” Olwë said and the others agreed. Belegorn was called and, in spite of his insistence that no money was owed, the two kings, along with Finrod, insisted on paying for their meals and the use of the rooms. In the end, Belegorn was a few silver pieces richer with the promise that Arafinwë and Olwë would encourage their people to begin traveling to Tol Eressëa and to stop at the Blue Dolphin for food and lodging.

They made their way to the encampment to find that the ellith, Eärnur and Eregil were already there. Manwen saw her husband and ran to him, giving him a wifely kiss. “Did you know that you and I are prisoners of the Amaneldi?” she asked with a coy smile.

Laurendil grimaced. “So I heard.” He turned to Gilvagor. “So, do you want to explain why you did not tell us about these rumors or why those who attended the Tournament have not spoken out against them?”

Gilvagor gave him a puzzled look. “Rumors? What rumors? I have no idea what you are talking about. I have heard nothing about any rumors.”

“Yet, apparently Manwen and the others were told of these rumors even as we were,” Finrod said, looking pensive. “They had to come from somewhere.”

“I swear Laurendil,” Gilvagor said fervently, “there have been no rumors about you and Manwen being held prisoners. This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Laurendil muttered a half-heard curse in Sindarin. “Well, someone is spreading these specious lies about us. I think we should try to find out just who is doing so and why before they cause even more damage. If the people of Tol Eressëa believe that the Amaneldi are holding us against our wills then the whole purpose of this Progress will be for naught.”

“And perhaps that is the whole point,” Beleg said shrewdly.

Olwë nodded in agreement. “If these rumors are very recent then they may have been started for the very purpose of sabotaging this Progress, in which case, our hope for a good outcome is doomed before it is even realized.”

There were sober expressions all around as they contemplated Olwë’s words. Then, Finrod shook his head. “So, the question is, who started the rumors, Tol Eressëans or Amaneldi?”

To that no one had an answer. Eventually, the question was put aside and they sat around the main fire, enjoying the early evening, drinking wine, while waiting for dinner. Each group took turns describing their day. The ellith, Eärnur and Eregil stared in amazement at Finrod’s telling of what happened with Edrahil and when he was finished with his narrative Eärnur shook his head. “Some people have all the fun,” he exclaimed with a sniff.

There were snorts of disbelief and amusement all around and Edrahil reached over and tipped his goblet of wine over Eärnur’s head. Eärnur let out a surprised yell and began cursing Edrahil in a mixture of Quenya and Sindarin that set the others laughing.

The laughter rang through the fields and down into the town and the people of Tavrobel paused in their own activities to listen and wonder at the sound of it.