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Elf, Interrupted: Book Two: Glorfindel's Quest  by Fiondil

91: Council Meeting

Word came from Borhael later that evening as they were foregathering in the inner court for music and storytelling, letting them know that the meeting with the council and guilds was scheduled for the second hour after the noon meal.

“Hmm.... I wonder why so late in the day?” Olwë mused aloud after the messenger had come and gone.

“It is actually the usual hour in which the council and guilds meet as one to discuss matters of interest to them,” Meril told them. “Such meetings are always open to the public. The morning is devoted to more private  meetings and the conducting of the usual business of running a city or a guild.”

The others nodded. “Then, we will spend the morning at our own meeting,” Olwë said, “to discuss what we will say and who will say it. Until then, though, let us continue with our merriment.”

To that, no one had any objections.

****

The meeting the next morning was held as they were breaking their fast. Once everyone was seated and their plates full, Olwë spoke.

“I think, given the hostility that I sensed among the crowds yesterday, that we exercise our royal prerogatives and eschew wearing our most formal court garb. Let them see us as one group of elves no different than any other group desiring to address the city council and guilds on a matter of importance.”

“So does that mean I can wear my oldest and most comfortable tunic?” Beleg asked with a glint of humor.

Olwë smiled fondly at the ellon. “No, Beleg. It means you will have to wear your second best court garb for the occasion.”

“Drat!” the ellon muttered with an exaggerated sigh.

The others chuckled in amusement. “Cheer up, hanno,” Finrod said. “We won’t be here much longer.”

“Actually, I will be glad to leave,” Beleg said soberly. “I find the... atmosphere to be not to my liking.”

“Perhaps when things settle down, it will be better,” Arafinwë opined and Beleg shrugged, not willing to say either yea or nay to that.

“At any rate,” Olwë continued, “we will continue to be circumspect in our conduct among the people of Kortirion. It is important that we get them to agree to the council to determine the form of government that should be established here. If we cannot, then it is unlikely that Tavrobel or Avallónë will bother with it.”

“What about the Nandor and Marthchall’s people?” Finrod asked. “Will we leave them to fend for themselves if no council is called?”

Both Olwë and Arafinwë shook their heads. “We will continue to work with Laeglîr and any of the other Nandor who are willing to deal with us,” Olwë replied.

“And we will see that Marthchall and the people of Angobel are dealt with fairly by the rest of the Tol Eressëans.” Arafinwë added. “That injustice I will not tolerate. If need be, and with Lord Manwë’s permission, I will remove them to Aman where they may live in peace, either in Tirion or in a community of their own devising. The Miners’ Guild would welcome them, I think, especially if Lord Aulë gives his support.”

“Perhaps you should speak to Lord Manwë about it when we return to Aman regardless,” Finrod suggested. “Even if everything goes as planned with respect to the council, the people of Angobel might still not feel welcomed by the other islanders. The Valar said that Marthchall’s people are under their protection. It is possible that they would be amenable to the idea of letting them resettle in Aman.”

Arafinwë nodded. “That is something to think about,” he averred. “I will consider it. At any rate, I suspect that when we return to Tirion, I, at least, will also go to Vanyamar to consult with Ingwë and I can easily go to Ilmarin from there to speak with Lord Manwë.”

“In the meantime, let us discuss what topics we must cover at today’s meeting,” Olwë said. “I have no doubt, given the reactions of the people yesterday to our presence, that news of what happened in Avallónë has spread to Kortirion and beyond. I am sure that we will be questioned most carefully about this.”

Everyone nodded and Olwë continued. “Therefore, it only makes sense that those most directly involved be the ones to answer whatever questions may arise.”

“Since Laurendil and Manwen are not here, that means Eärnur and Iorlas,” Glorfindel pointed out.

“As well as me,” Finrod said with a grim smile, “for I led the rescue and accepted Marthchall’s parole.”

“Actually, if you think about it,” Alassiel said with a slight frown, “we were all directly involved when we were ambushed.” She unconsciously put a hand on her side where she had been wounded. Sador, sitting next to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a brief but loving hug, kissing her gently on the forehead. The smile she gave him was shy but warm and there were many knowing grins among the other elves.

“What you say is true, child,” Arafinwë said gently, “but I think we should keep it to one or two people to answer whatever questions might arise.”

“I will be glad to answer any questions of a medical nature,” Eärnur said, “but beyond that, I prefer not to speak.”

“Nor I,” Iorlas interjected. “I am too new to the island to want to be the center of attention.”

“Then that leaves me, as usual,” Finrod retorted with a heavy sigh.

Glorfindel grinned. “Would you rather I speak to the council, instead?”

Finrod gave him a disbelieving look. “And end up having to fight our way out of the council chamber in the end? I think not.”

Glorfindel merely shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

That set everyone laughing and then Olwë steered the conversation to other things concerning the day’s upcoming meeting and what they hoped to accomplish and they spent the next hour or so hammering out their agenda.

****

This time, Meril elected to join them when they left for the city. “I am not a member of the council,” she told them, “but I like to keep an eye on things.”

Returning to the city they found it less crowded, for whenever there was a market on Valanya, the markets on Menelya and Elenya were not held.

“Which makes things easier,” Arafinwë said and they all nodded in agreement.

However, upon reaching the square where the city hall stood, they were somewhat surprised to find it full of spectators. The crowd was silent as they entered the square, though there was no overt hostility, only a guarded watchfulness and curiosity. The Amanians ignored the people as they made their way to the front doors of the city hall where the council members stood waiting to greet them. Finrod was surprised to see Thorongorn there, standing among a group to their left who were identified by Borhael as heads of the guilds and certain loremasters from the city’s Academy. Thorongorn, it turned out, was there in his capacity as a loremaster. He gave Finrod a faint smile when their eyes met and Finrod returned it with a raised eyebrow, but there was no opportunity for them to speak to one another as Galadhwen led everyone into the building and towards the hall where public meetings were held.

The Amanians were shown to a place where they could see and be seen by all. Olwë and Arafinwë sat in the first row with Ingwion between them. Finrod and Lindarion flanked their atari and the rest sat where and as they pleased. The hall filled up rapidly with spectators and latecomers stood against the walls when all the seats were filled. Galadhwen, Borhael and the other council members took seats behind a long table that sat on a raised platform before the audience while the guildmasters and loremasters sat behind them.

“We want to welcome their Majesties and Prince Ingwion to our fair city,” Galadhwen said formally and somewhat stiffly by way of introduction. “This gathering has been called so we may hear what they have to say concerning the reason for their visit.”

Olwë stood and gave Galadhwen a respectful bow. “On behalf of myself and my companions I would like to thank you for giving us this opportunity to meet with you and speak of concerns that are of interest to both our peoples.” He then sat.

There was a slight stir among the spectators but it was stilled when Borhael raised a hand and addressed the Amanians. “Before we get to that, we would ask for an explanation of what happened in Avallónë. We have heard several rumors but no concrete facts.”

“Yet, can we trust that we will be given the unvarnished truth from any of them?” one of the other councillor’s asked.

Finrod, looking at his atar and anatar and receiving nods from them both, rose. “I have been elected to speak of this as I was directly involved in the situation, but there is one among you who can corroborate what I say.”

“Indeed?” Galadhwen asked, looking unconvinced. “And who might that be?”

Finrod gave her a mirthless grin. “I see Lord Thorongorn sits among you,” he replied, glancing to where the guildmasters and loremasters were sitting. “He was as much involved with the affair as the rest of us.”

The council members turned almost as one to see Lord Thorongorn standing, giving them a bow. “I was indeed present for most of it and can perhaps add to whatever Prince Findaráto has to say so you may have the whole picture.”

“Fine,” Galadhwen said stiffly as she looked to Finrod. “Pray tell us what you will, your Highness.”

Finrod gave a slight bow of his head in acknowledgment and proceeded to relate all that had happened to them in Avallónë, beginning with their arrival, continuing with the incident involving the Nandor and ending with the ambush. He kept to a straight narrative without any embellishments, giving just the bald facts. His listeners were silent for the most part, though when he spoke of the Maiar and Valar appearing there was a great stir among them and Finrod had to wait for it to calm before continuing. As he concluded his narrative and sat, Thorongorn stood to speak.

“All that Prince Findaráto has said is true,” he told them. “I was present when the Valar appeared, though I was not there when Lord Morcocáno was attempting his ambush. I did, however, see the slag of metal that had once been the swords of those who participated in the ambush. I have a feeling it will not be carted away anytime soon. It will be left where it is as a reminder of the fact that we are no longer living in the Outer Lands where the Valar do not go. We live here on their doorstep, so to speak, and they have a vested interest in seeing that their Peace is not disturbed by anyone for any reason.”

Then he sat down and the questioning began, for there were many points about the incident that needed clarification and expansion beyond the bare facts Finrod had given them. Finrod answered as well as he could, emphasizing, for instance, the role which the Valar played in all that had happened.

“Lord Thorongorn is correct,” he said at one point. “The people of Tol Eressëa need to remember that they are no longer living in Endórë but in Valinor, the home of the Valar before it was ever ours. They know well the price that was paid the last time their Peace was destroyed by the actions of the Eldar. They will not tolerate another such breach. Therefore, it behooves the people of Tol Eressëa to work together to ensure that that Peace remains inviolate.”

“Which is the purpose of our visit here,” Olwë added. “The unrest that is evident among you needs to be addressed and rectified. The Valar have been patient, waiting for us to recognize and address the situation, but that is not to say that their patience is infinite. It is time to stop pointing fingers at one another, time to stop blaming each other for doing or not doing what should have been done or not done. It is time to put aside our differences and work together towards an equitable solution for all.”

“With you Amanians dictating to us....” Galadhwen started to say.

“Not so!” Olwë exclaimed, rising from his seat. “We are here on a fact-finding mission, to determine for ourselves what others have told us, particularly Lord Laurendil and Lord Gilvagor. Our hope is to offer a place where the different factions and interests on the island can meet in peace and discuss among themselves what should be done. If, during the discussions, our opinions are asked for, we will give you them, but that is all they will be, our opinions. What you do or not do with them is up to you.”

“I can tell you,” Gilvagor interjected as he rose, “that when Lord Laurendil and I came to Tol Eressëa we were appalled at the lack of clear leadership among you. We could not understand why after five hundred years there was no central government.” He shrugged. “I suppose we were expecting something similar to Gil-galad’s court.”

“There are historical reasons for why there is not,” Thorongorn answered as Gilvagor resumed his seat, his tone one that everyone recognized as that of a loremaster speaking on the subject of most interest to him. “Kortirion and Tavrobel were founded not long after Avallónë but none of these communities was really large enough that we felt it necessary to form a central government. Part of the problem, of course, was deciding where it would be located and who would be our leader. In the meantime, each city council and the local guilds took it upon themselves to govern their particular city and the small farms and villages surrounding them. Of course, now all the guilds look to those of Kortirion as the master guilds, but the city councils still remain autonomous and no one has been willing to relinquish that autonomy.”

The councillors all nodded at that.

“The problem is,” Thorongorn continued, giving them a slightly sardonic smile, “that autonomy is proving troublesome. The guilds have been united under a single guild council for the last two hundred and fifty-seven years. The council consists of masters elected by every member of their guild who is at least of journeyman status. The masters sit on the council for ten years and then step down for others to take their place. It has been working more or less smoothly all this time. It has been suggested that a similar approach be used by the city councils, having an overarching council with representatives from each of the main communities who are elected for a certain period of time and who would promulgate laws and such for the entire island, but so far, no one has shown any interest.”

“Yet, it cannot be denied that there is a need for some form of centralized government to meet the needs of all the peoples of Tol Eressëa,” Gilvagor said. “It was the reason Lord Laurendil and I formed the embassy to Tirion. We thought with the support of the mainlanders, the islanders would be more amenable to at least talk about it. No one will talk about it. All you do is hide behind platitudes and vague promises and nothing gets done.”

There was an uneasy silence among the council members and whispers among the spectators. Galadhwen looked particularly affronted. “Much of the blame can be laid at the feet of our predecessors,” she retorted. “They are the ones who refused to talk.”

“Yet, you were one of them, Galadhwen,” Borhael pointed out mildly. “Have you changed your tune since then?”

There were gasps from the other councillors as well as from some of the audience. Galadhwen gave Borhael a cold look. “I have not changed my tune about anything, Borhael. I was but one voice among many and I was not necessarily in a position of strength.”

“It matters not who is to blame, lady,” Arafinwë stated. “We are not interested in laying blame on anyone. What was done was done and there is nothing we can do to change it. What we can do is move on, to recognize that mistakes were made by all and now is the time to rectify those mistakes as best we can. We of Aman are willing to host the council at the winter solstice. The place has yet to be determined, but it will not be in Tirion or Alqualondë.”

“Why can we not convene this council here on Tol Eressëa?” someone asked.

“And where exactly should we hold it?” Borhael retorted with a grim smile. “Tavrobel does not have the facilities and the people of Avallónë will want it there just as we will want it here. No, I think it best that it be held on the mainland, assuming that we agree to it, of course.”

“The people of Tavrobel are in favor of such a council,” Olwë said. “Unfortunately, circumstances in Avallónë prevented us from soliciting an opinion about it from Lord Morcocáno and others.”

Thorongorn stood. “I am in favor of it and I know others on our council will be,” he said. “If Tavrobel and Kortirion agree to attend the council, Avallónë will also attend.”

“That is well,” Olwë said with a nod. “The Nandor have also indicated their acceptance and the people of Angobel....”

“What!?” Galadhwen nearly shouted. “Allow those... those thralls of Morgoth to attend?”

The Amanians were incensed by her words and Olwë was ready to reprimand the elleth, but then Glorfindel suddenly stood and walked directly to the table where the councillors were sitting to stand before Galadhwen, his expression unreadable.

“You speak of thralls, Galadhwen, as if they deserved their slavery.” His voice was soft, almost conversational in tone, but everyone heard him. “You little realize what thralldom does to a person. There is an ellon who is now little more than a child in his mind because of what was done to him by his orc masters. He endured torments you cannot imagine and now he is looked upon by the rest of you with suspicion and distrust and even hatred when what he needs is compassion, love and understanding.” He paused for a second or two before continuing. “I’ve been a thrall myself. I know of what I speak.” And then he turned around and went back to his seat, his expression blank of any emotion. He stared straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular, ignoring the looks of concern on the faces of his gwedyr and the whispers from the spectators.

“Lord Glorfindel is correct,” Arafinwë said after a moment or two. “The people of Angobel deserve our compassion and understanding. They wish only to live in peace. If they cannot find it here on Tol Eressëa, I intend to petition the Valar to allow them to remove to Aman where they will be welcomed.”

“Better they leave then,” someone from the audience shouted and there were murmurs of assent to that from many.

“Then there is nothing more to discuss,” Olwë said coldly. “If this is your attitude towards the very least of your brethren whose only crime is having the misfortune of being taken captive by Melkor and enslaved, then it is obvious that there is no hope for any of you and it is better that we leave you to your own devices.” He stood and gave the councillors a brief bow. “Thank you for your time, my lords and ladies.”

Arafinwë stood and the other Amanians hastily followed suit as Olwë started to leave. The expression on the faces of the people of Kortirion was one of stunned disbelief at the abruptness of the Amanians’ departure.

“Wait! What about this council you were talking about?” another called out.

Olwë stopped and swept his gaze around the hall, giving them all a cold look. “It’s been cancelled effective immediately,” he stated baldly. “I will not sully Aman with your presence. You people are a disgrace to all Elvenkind with your contempt and hatred for your own kin.”

Ignoring the shouting behind them, Olwë and the others exited from a side door into a corridor that led to the main foyer. They were heading out into the square to retrieve their horses when Borhael and Thorongorn caught up with them, both ellyn begging them not to leave.

“Please do not judge us by the few who are too ingrained in their hatreds to ever change,” Thorongorn pleaded. “I assure you, most of us....”

“It matters not,” Olwë interrupted, his fury barely contained. “First Avallónë and now Kortirion. The only people with any real decency have been those of Tavrobel and the Nandor of Garth Hallâd. You of Avallónë and Kortirion pride yourselves on your sophistication but you have no compassion for those who are less fortunate in their lives. We will be leaving for Aman in the morning and there will be no council. The people of Tol Eressëa are on their own.”

He then continued down the steps, calling for his horse. The others did the same. Finrod held back and gave Thorongorn and Borhael a sympathetic look. “I am sorry, but Anatar is correct. Compassion is in short supply on this island. I hope you find some before it’s too late.” Then he joined the others and in minutes they were leaving the square, never looking back.





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