125: A Snowy Respite

As it turned out, the council did not reconvene until three days later. Manwë, in consultation with the other Valar, decided a longer cooling off period for the Children was needed. Thus, with Ulmo’s help, he diverted a storm raging across the northern wastelands so that it came barreling down upon Valmar during the night while the elves slept. When they woke the next morning it was to find themselves more or less trapped inside, for the blizzard had dumped several feet of snow and it was still falling.

"If this storm continues we won’t be able to hold the Council tomorrow," Ingwë said with some amusement as he and the others at the townhouse gathered together for the morning meal. "It’ll take us most of the day to dig ourselves out."

"I wonder if that is true in Valmar itself," Beleg enquired. "Do you think the storm was deliberate?"

"Well now, that’s a good question," Olwë replied with a smile for the ellon, "and very perceptive of you, Beleg."

The former Marchwarden of Doriath glowed with the praise as everyone nodded in agreement. "It wouldn’t surprise me at all if it were," Arafinwë said with a chuckle. "I have the feeling the Valar were less than pleased with how things fell out at the afternoon session."

"I certainly wasn’t pleased," Ingwë said with an angry shake of his head. "Civility seemed to be in short supply yesterday."

"Do you think Morcocáno will return or will the Avallóneans remove themselves from the Council completely?" Finrod asked.

"I sincerely hope they do not," Ingwë replied with some passion. "It will ruin everything and the Council might as well be disbanded. However much Morcocáno may be disliked, his presence is necessary for this Council to succeed."

"Perhaps he will step aside as the head of the delegation and appoint someone else," Alassiel suggested.

"That would be acceptable," Ingwë said. "We’ll have to wait and see. When we reconvene I still want to hear what Morcocáno has to say, if only so we have a complete record of opinions."

"I apologize for Uinendilmë," Lindarion said then, looking chagrined. "When I put together the delegation I asked each one if they would be able to put aside whatever feelings they might have against the Tol Eressëans and specifically against any of the Noldor, whether from the island or from Tirion. Uinendilmë assured me that she would have no problems. They all did." He shook his head. "Maybe I should have been more careful in my selection."

"You did as you thought best, yonya," Olwë said, "and it is difficult to tell when others are dissembling for their own purposes. I was very proud of the way you conducted yourself during the Progress. I know how difficult it was for you at times, though perhaps others were not aware of your struggle."

"Actually, I was rather hoping to hear news of Falmaron while we were in Avallónë," Lindarion said, looking a bit sheepish. "I’d heard rumors that he’d been seen there. Unfortunately, we didn’t stay in Avallónë long enough for me to ascertain the truth of the rumors. Other matters kept getting in the way, like being kidnapped by the Nandor."

There were chuckles all around.

"Well, Brethorn was willing enough to share what he knew about our brother," Olwen said. "It has eased my heart to know that he is well and reasonably happy. I hope someday he will forgive us enough to return to us."

"That is our hope as well," Lirillë said quietly, taking Olwë’s hand in hers. The look that the two shared was too private for the others sitting there and people began making other conversation with their neighbors as they continued eating.

The rest of the day passed quietly. The elflings and Vorondil spent part of the morning with their faces glued to the windows watching the snow fall. It was a rarity to see so much of it and the children were fascinated, though eventually they became bored. Finrod and Aldundil, with the help of Sador, Beleg, Alassiel, and Amarië, devised a scavenger hunt for the afternoon and the townhouse rang with the laughter of the children as they followed the clues.

By late afternoon the storm had blown itself out and all of Valmar and Eldamas lay under a blanket of snow that nearly reached the upper windows of many of the houses, including the royal townhouse. Anar was setting, the sky and the snow turning crimson and deep purple shading to mauve as she sank into the west. That, however, did not deter the good people of Eldamas who, almost as soon as the last snowflake came floating down from the clearing skies, were climbing out of second story windows with brooms and shovels in hand and cheerfully beginning the arduous task of clearing the streets of snow. The lamps that lined the streets were lit and Isil rose above the Pelóri to offer his own silvery illumination to the scene below. Even before those at the townhouse had organized themselves, several elves congregated before the building and began clearing the front courtyard.

Ingwë told those inside the house to leave the clearing to the elves outside. "Let them have the honor of ‘rescuing’ us," he said with a sly grin and there was much laughter among them. Then he began issuing other orders. "When they’ve cleared the front door, then we will join them in clearing the snow. I want to see how the Tol Eressëans are making out. Mistress Luhtana, please have the cooks ready some mulled wine and cider and some hot food for when our brave rescuers free us from our prison. I’m sure they will appreciate it."

There was more laughter as everyone gathered snow removal implements while waiting for their ‘rescue’. As the clearing continued they could hear those outside singing songs in praise of snow and hymns to Lords Manwë and Ulmo. After a time there was a polite knock on the door and Sador, who happened to be the closest, opened it with a broad smile.

"Welcome! Come in," he called. "There is hot food and drink for all."

There were happy cries from the ‘rescuers’ and much laughter from everyone. Soon the townhouse was filled with cheerful elves drinking mulled wine and munching on hot meat pies while the royal families and the other delegates mingled with them and visited. Ingwë was speaking with the woodcarver, Vánandur, along with Olwë and Arafinwë, while Beleg stood beside his former mentor who had a fatherly arm around the Reborn’s shoulders.

"We haven’t gotten as far as the gate into Valmar," Vánandur was telling them. "This place was our first priority."

"And we thank you," Ingwë said with a smile, "though truly we were quite capable of freeing ourselves, you know."

"Oh, we know," Vánandur replied with a laugh, "but it was a lot of fun and it was our way of showing our love for you. Besides, who’s going to pass up free food and drink?" He gave them a wink as he lifted his goblet of wine in salute and the others laughed.

"Well, let’s see how it stands in Valmar," Arafinwë said. "I’m sure everyone is busy clearing the Landamallë and can probably use our help."

To that, no one objected and soon a small party was making its way towards the northern gate of Valmar, walking over the snow that still clogged the Formenya Tëa. Along the way they encountered various parties clearing squares and singing, shouting glad greetings as they recognized the kings. But when they came to the northern gate, the diamonds encrusting the black meteoric iron glittering in the moonlight, they found themselves blocked. The snow was piled up against the gate twice as high as the tallest elf and beyond all was dark and silent.

"There is no way we can clear this tonight," Olwë commented. "I have the feeling the Valar do not want the delegates going anywhere anytime soon."

There were snorts of amusement at that droll statement. "We’ll return in the morning and see what the situation is," Ingwë stated. "In the meantime, let us see where we can best help with the clearing. Eldamas does not seem to have been hit as hard as Valmar, which I find odd, but there is still plenty of snow to shift."

The others all nodded and with good cheer retraced their steps until they came to one of the larger squares still deep in snow and only a few souls about trying to clear it. With a good will they joined the half dozen elves already there with the three kings of Eldamar dividing their group into thirds and each taking a corner, while the fourth corner was given over to the elves of Eldamas who had accompanied them. There was an impromptu race to see who would reach the fountain in the center of the square first, with much laughter and song at the friendly competition. When the elves of Eldamas won the race, the royal party took the friendly ribbing gracefully enough and Ingwë invited everyone back to the townhouse for more food and drink, which invitation was gratefully accepted by all.

In fact, the cooks had outdone themselves while everyone was out shoveling and when they reached the townhouse they found the rarely used feasthall opened and everyone was invited to sit while the elflings in their pages’ tabards proudly served the tables under Vorondil’s careful supervision. Close to a hundred people were there and the feasting went on for some time. Afterwards, trestles were pushed to one side and an area was cleared for dancing and singing which went on until well after midnight. There were pockets of merriment throughout Eldamas as innkeepers and hostelers threw open their doors to those clearing the streets, offering them food and drink free of charge.

But in Valmar itself, all was dark and silent.

****

The next morning dawned bright and clear and as soon as all had broken their fast, Ingwë led a party back to the northern gate to discover that the city of the Powers was still snow-shrouded and the Tol Eressëans were nowhere in sight. Nor, for that matter, were there any Maiar.

Finrod, Beleg, Ingwion and Sador, with a few others, volunteered to check out the city. They climbed the gate and landed lightly on the other side, making their way easily across the drifts while Ingwë organized the rest into work details, assigning them to different parts of Valmar once the area around the gate was cleared.

"Each team will clear the area around a mansion and half the avenue before it," he told them. "That should lighten the workload for us all, though I suspect, given the amount of snow that’s fallen, we’re going to be at it for most of the day."

"I wonder why the Tol Eressëans aren’t out?" Alassiel asked no one in particular as she helped to clear the snow immediately before the gate.

"Maybe they’re trapped inside," Calandil, Arafinwë’s chief guard, suggested as he shifted some of the snow.

"Or maybe they’re just too lazy to come out," Lord Lassezel, who was part of Ingwion’s delegation, offered, smiling a little maliciously even as he leaned on his shovel briefly to take a sip of water from a flask that was being handed around.

"Nay, I cannot think that the warriors under Lord Gilvagor or the Reborn would be so lax," Lindarion countered as he accepted the flask from the Vanyarin lord. "I think you have the right of it, Calandil, and they simply cannot get out. More snow seems to have fallen here than in Eldamas, which, now that I think on it, seems rather odd."

They all nodded at that. "Perhaps the Valar felt it necessary to... um... confine the Tol Eressëans," Lassezel said with a straight face and there was a lot of good-natured groaning at the intended pun.

"Odd that there are no Maiar about, though," someone mentioned and many agreed but no one had an answer to the why of it.

The scouts re-appeared while they were still attempting to clear the gate and announced that the doors of the mansions were completely blocked with snow. "Just the doors, mind you," Finrod said with a grin. "The gardens surrounding the mansions have only a foot or so of snow covering them."

There were knowing looks all around. "How deep is the snow in the Landamallë?" Ingwë asked.

"Pretty deep, actually," Finrod replied. "We’re going to be shoveling for most of the day just to free the delegates."

"Are there no other exits besides the front doors, though?" Lindarion asked.

"Oh yes, but as I said, all the doors are blocked." Finrod smiled, giving them a significant look as he stressed the adjective.

"Hmph.... well, we’ll just concentrate on the front doors and the Landamallë," Ingwë said. "You all have your assignments."

"Let’s free the delegates first before we try to clear the avenue," Finrod suggested. "Then we can get the Tol Eressëans to help with the rest."

Everyone laughingly agreed to that idea. It had been decided that the snow blocking the doors would simply be dumped into the surrounding gardens while the snow covering the Landamallë would be piled up between the malinorni which lined the avenue. The snow did not seem to be as deep there as in the center of the street. Ingwë ordered other crews to clear the areas around the other three gates and there were still other people — innkeepers and bakers for the most part — who set up a pavilion in a square near the northern gate where workers could come and have a bite to eat and a hot drink. The atmosphere was merry and everyone tackled the onerous job of shoveling the snow with a good will.

"I wonder which delegations were housed where," Sador said as he and Beleg joined Finrod and Ingwion and several others in front of Lord Námo and Lady Vairë’s mansion.

"I know Lord Námo and Lady Vairë are hosting the Reborn delegation and I think those from the Weavers’ Guild, but I have no idea about the others," Finrod replied with a shrug as he began shoveling the snow in front of the carnelian gates leading into Lord Námo’s demesne.

Beleg snickered. "Do you think they have to walk the spiral every time?"

Finrod shook his head, chuckling. "It is my understanding that they only had to do it the one time when they first arrived. One of the Maiar lets them in a side door now."

"Why can’t people enter the mansion that way all the time instead of having to endure the spiral?" one of the other elves in their group asked.

"Because the side doors have no handles on the outside," Finrod answered. "Here, let’s see if we can’t get this open." He and the others stopped shoveling and pushed against one of the gates, managing to shift it about a foot.

"Don’t see why we couldn’t just climb over," someone said with a huff.

"That would be rude," Ingwion replied with a sniff and they all laughed.

"I think a few more shovelfuls and we can open the gate wide enough to slip through," Finrod said. "Then we’ll spread out along the path and start clearing it. Honestly, if the Valar wanted us not to meet today why didn’t they just lock all the doors from the outside?"

"That’s no fun," Beleg quipped and everyone laughed again.

Throughout the city there was the ringing of laughter and song as the rescuers went about the business of clearing the snow away. The first mansion to get cleared turned out to be that of Lord Oromë and Lady Vána. This was because of the way in which the mansion was constructed, the halls low and each room supported by a tree. The snow was not as deep under the trees as in other places, but the front portico was elf-high with the stuff and it still took time for them to clear it. When the wooden doors were finally cleared, one of the elves knocked loudly. A few seconds went by and then they could hear people rushing to them from the other side and the rescuers grinned at one another. The doors were flung open to reveal Councillor Dúlinn and the other delegates from Tavrobel as well as those from the Guild of Bards all looking relieved.

"We didn’t think we would ever get free," Dúlinn exclaimed, gesturing for their rescuers to enter. "We woke this morning to find no way out. Some of the ellith were beginning to panic."

"Where are the Maiar?" someone asked. "We’ve seen neither hide nor hair of them ourselves."

Dúlinn shrugged. "Nor have we, not since last night. When we woke this morning, breakfast was waiting for us but there was no sign of any Maiar and we thought it rather odd. When we tried to leave we found that none of the doors would open and there was this note on the door here with just one word: ‘Wait’. Only, we did not know for what."

"Apparently for us to rescue you," a Noldo said with a laugh. "But I see you have shovels and brooms here." He gestured to a pile next to the doors. "These doors open inward. You could have simply shoveled the snow yourself."

Dúlinn shook his head. "You are not listening," he said with some exasperation. "We could not open the doors. Until you knocked these doors refused to open and these shovels and brooms were not here an hour ago, I assure you."

The rescuers exclaimed softly amongst themselves. The leader of the group, a Vanya, frowned. "We tried to reach Valmar last night once a way was cleared along the Formenya Tëa," he said, "but the snow was heavier here than in the town and King Ingwë decided to wait until the morning to see how you were doing. It’s taken us nearly two hours just to clear the snow from the street to here."

"What about the other mansions?" Barancheneb asked.

"All blocked with snow," the leader replied. "But come, now that you are free, you can help with the rest of the clearing. We still need to do the Landamallë. King Ingwë wishes Valmar cleared before noon. With all of us helping, that goal should be reachable."

"Odd that the Maiar aren’t about," Dúlinn commented even as he grabbed one of the shovels.

The rescuers shrugged. "More fun for us," someone quipped and there were amused chuckles all around.

****

The next group of delegates to be released were the Reborn. Finrod decided that it was pointless to try to clear the front portico. "That is simply an entrance, but not an exit," he pointed out. "Let’s try one of the side doors instead."

The others agreed and once they had gotten the main path cleared at least to the front steps they angled off to the left where another path wended through the gardens. Sador and Beleg remembered it from their previous visit. The snow, while not as deep as it was elsewhere, was still heavy and there was a great deal of it to shift, but finally they came to a door that was protected by an arch. Finrod knocked and they waited. When no one came, he knocked again, only louder.

"Maybe no one is home," Ingwion quipped and they all laughed.

"They won’t know to come to this particular door, assuming they could find it," Beleg offered. "Perhaps we should have cleared the main doors after all."

"Well, third time’s the charm," Finrod said with a grin. He practically pounded on the door this time and when it suddenly opened, he nearly fell across the threshold. Brethorn was there to catch him.

"Easy now, Finrod," the Reborn said with a smile. "We came as soon as we could."

"What took you so long?" Finrod asked.

"Do you know how many doors there are?" Brethorn retorted. "I’ve got people at every one of them."

"So why didn’t they open this one immediately?" Ingwion asked.

"Because we were told that only I could open any of the doors, but we had to wait until we heard someone knocking on the other side."

"Told? Told by whom?" Sador demanded.

"By one of Lord Námo’s Maiar, of course," Brethorn explained even as other members of the Reborn delegation and those of the Weavers’ Guild joined them. "Yesterday we were told that a blizzard had effectively snowed everyone in but we were not to panic. Then she told us what we were to do concerning the doors."

Gwîrendur smiled at them grimly. "Thank the Valar you came!" he exclaimed. "Do you know how many games we’ve been playing since yesterday? If I have to play hide-and-find one more time...."

Several of the Reborn stuck their tongues out at the ellon and made rude noises while the rescuers all laughed. "Well, I’m glad we were able to rescue you from such a dire fate, Gwîrendur," Finrod said. "Come. We still need to clear out the Landamallë. Perhaps you can take over while we have a breather."

"Hey, look!" someone shouted, pointing to a nearby alcove. "Where did these shovels and brooms come from? They weren’t here five minutes ago."

"And enough for us all," Brethorn noticed with a nod. "Well, come along then. Playtime’s over."

"Oh good," one of the weavers said under her breath to her neighbor who giggled as they grabbed a couple of brooms and followed the others outside.

****

One by one the delegates were freed. Most took it in good humor and eagerly joined in to help clear the rest of the city of snow. The Warriors’ Guild with Gilvagor were housed in Lord Tulkas and Lady Nessa’s mansion. "We could see you from the windows overlooking the courtyard but none of the doors would open," Gilvagor said as he and the other warriors stepped outside. He gestured to the many doors still blocked with snow that opened onto the arcade enclosing three sides of the courtyard. "It was very frustrating," he added with a grin.

"Well, you’re free now, my lord," one of the rescuers said with a laugh. "Perhaps you and your fellows would care to join with the rest of us to clear the avenue of snow?"

"With a good will, my friend," Gilvagor said heartily and the others shouted in gladness and grabbed the shovels that they happened to find hanging on hooks on the inner side of the arcade.

The most difficult mansion to get to was Lord Ulmo’s as there was only the one way across the lake surrounding it. The lake itself was free of snow and in spite of the cold, there was not a hint of ice forming on its surface. The stepping stones, however, were another matter and care had to be taken to cross over. Two of the elves, perhaps showing off or simply not being careful enough, slipped and fell into the lake, much to the amusement of their fellows. They came up sputtering and cursing, climbing out and stomping off to get dried off while the rest continued across. Then they had to take turns shoveling because there was only enough space for two at a time until they got to the front doors themselves.

Once the portico was cleared, they knocked and when the doors opened they found a most irate Lord Morcocáno standing there.

"About time!" he snarled, stepping out and glaring about. "I suppose we’re the last to be set free?"

"As to that, lord," one of the rescuers said, piqued at this arrogant Tol Eressëan’s ungratefulness, "we do not know. It took us longer than we anticipated to reach you. And now, we must go help with clearing the rest of the city." He gave the still fuming lord a short bow and motioned for his people to head back across the lake. "Take care crossing," he admonished the Tol Eressëans as he walked away. "The stepping stones are icy. Two of us already slipped and fell into the lake as we came across."

By now, all the delegates were freed. Morcocáno was not the only one who was put out. The Amanians were amazed how many of the Tol Eressëans considered their being snowed in as a personal insult to them.

"As if we had anything to do with it," Ingwion muttered to Finrod who merely grunted as he continued shoveling snow.

The Reborn, on the other hand, made it into a game and they were more likely to throw snowballs at people than to actually shovel, though they did that too. When a small group, led by Morcocáno, protested having to shovel, an argument broke out between them and the elves of Eldamas and there was a great deal of shouting and angry words. Suddenly, a flurry of snowballs indiscriminately bombarded the arguers. When they cleared the snow from their eyes they found themselves surrounded by all the Reborn, along with Finrod, Sador, Beleg, Haldir, Gilvagor, and Ingwion, all with snowballs in their hands.

"If you can’t play nice," Brethorn said sternly, "we’ll just do this." Everyone with snowballs pelted the ones who’d been arguing.

"Hey!" one of them protested and reached down to make her own snowball. Soon, there was a general free-for-all as snowballs flew hither and yon. Even Morcocáno, forgetting his dignity, was seen organizing some of the Tol Eressëans into an army, his eyes aglow with the light of battle as other elves joined one side or the other in the snowball fight. Someone suggested building forts and soon there were many hands constructing snow forts and then the battle continued with much laughter.

Ingwë, Arafinwë and Olwë stood to one side, along with a number of other older elves, watching the antics with amusement but did not join in. "We’ll just let the children play," Ingwë said and motioned for the others to join him as he made his way through the northern gate to the dining pavilion for a much needed lunch break.

And high on Taniquetil, safely ensconced in Ilmarin, the Valar and their Maiar attendants looked down upon the battle scene and smiled.

****

Formenya Tëa: The North Road which wends its way through Eldamas and eventually will take you to Vanyamar.

Malinorni: Plural of malinornë: Mallorn.