128: Meanwhile... Back in Aewellond

Glorfindel stood on the quay where Vingilot was moored, looking out to sea. The harbor was well protected but even so winter still found its way there and the water was rough that morning. Snow had fallen the night before, blanketing the entire area. The elflings from the village were eagerly cavorting in it and Glorfindel smiled to himself at the sound of their laughter ringing across the valley. The occasional surprised squawk from an adult told him that yet another victim of a snowball had been found.

He idly ran his hand along the side of the ship as he kept his eyes on the water. There was something mesmerizing about the constant shifting of the waves, a power so deep and impersonal as to be almost frightening. It was a pity he was always getting sick whenever he ventured out in a boat. Eärendil assured him that on a larger ship it was unlikely that he would suffer so, but Vingilot was the only ship there and it no longer plied the waves of Ulmo’s realm.

The wind stiffened and he held his cloak a little closer to him and sighed. It was just past the winter solstice and he wondered idly how it was going with the Council and if there had been any trouble with the Tol Eressëans. They had received news that it was indeed being held, but nothing more. He wondered about his gwedyr, about Finrod and Sador and Beleg especially, and Ingwion, of course, the only non-Reborn in their little group. He wondered if the Prince of the Vanyar ever felt left out and then snorted in self-derision at such an inane thought. He had a great deal of respect for Ingwë’s son. He remembered how lost and alone he had felt when he first went to Vanyamar and how Ingwion had taken him under his wing and offered him his friendship. It was the next best thing to having Finrod there... and Sador.

He missed them, all of them. Not for the first time he wondered what he was doing there in Aewellond instead of being with Finrod and the others. Not that his presence at the Council was needed; he had said as much himself and truly believed it. Still, if he were honest with himself, he would admit to feeling a little envious, a little left out of things, a little... bored.

Yes, that’s what he was feeling — bored. Oh, he enjoyed the training, though with the winter it had been put off as no one had thought to construct a salle where they could work out during inclement weather. And he enjoyed renewing his friendship with those hailing from Gondolin and making new friends as well, but there really was not much else to do here besides the training. Some of the others, such as Galdor and Legolas, had taken up other trades or tasks to keep them occupied, but Glorfindel knew himself well enough, however chancy his memories still might be, to know that learning a craft or taking up farming simply was not something he could do. He had been a lord of his House, a member of Turgon’s Privy Council, a warrior and confident of kings and princes and he craved the excitement of those things.

He realized that the inner restlessness he’d been feeling once the incessant training with the Maiar and the other warriors had stopped had always been there, only put in abeyance by the constant drills. Now, that restlessness was coming to the fore again and he understood why the sea so fascinated him: the restlessness of the always moving waters matched the restlessness of his fëa.

He sighed again and wrapped his cloak about him more closely as the wind suddenly picked up. Spray from the water striking the wharf hit him and he stifled a curse as he stepped back and then decided standing there was a ridiculous waste of time and turned to go back to the tower and perhaps inveigle Eärendil or Elwing into a game of chess. Just as he was turning away, he spied movement out of the corner of his eye and turned back to face the harbor, squinting against the sun glare on the waves.

Was that a ship?

He stood there, waiting for the object to resolve itself into something recognizable, and heard the sound of voices singing from across the way. Then he was waving as he saw that it was indeed a ship, coming into port under minimium sails as it glided towards him. Glorfindel realized that the ship would share the dock with Vingilot and he quickly got the moorings ready, having learned that much of seamanship from Eärendil.

The ship was one of the swan ships of the Teleri and he wondered who could possibly be aboard. He had had the impression that the Maiar allowed no one to approach Aewellond but apparently that was not strictly true.

"Helloo!" Someone shouted from the deck and Glorfindel waved.

The sound of running feet alerted him that others had seen the ship enter the harbor and soon he was joined by Aerandir, Elleront and Falathar who quickly took over the job of securing the ship to the wharf while Glorfindel stood back and watched. There was much shouting and calling out between those on board and Eärendil’s sailors and Glorfindel realized that this was not the first time this particular ship had come to Aewellond and he was intrigued to find out who these travelers were. Once the ship was properly moored, a gangplank was lowered and a tall ellon, whose features seemed vaguely familiar to Glorfindel, stepped briskly out and greeted them joyfully.

"Captain Falmaron!" Aerandir called as he, Elleront and Falathar went to greet the new arrival. "We didn’t expect to see you here until the spring."

The captain laughed. "Nor did I but I decided to stop here anyway. Where’s Eärendil? And who’s this?" He looked pointedly at Glorfindel who simply stood there smiling.

"Ah, let me make you known to Lord Glorfindel who recently joined us," Aerandir said. "My Lord Glorfindel, this is Falmaron, Captain of the Elerína."

"Captain," Glorfindel said with a bow.

"My lord," Falmaron replied with his own bow.

"Forgive me, but there is something familiar about you," Glorfindel then said. "Have we met before? Perhaps in Mandos, for I can see that you are a Reborn as am I."

Falmaron gave him a piercing look and shook his head. "I have no memory of meeting you in the Halls of Waiting, my lord...."

"Just Glorfindel," the former Balrog-slayer said.

"Glorfindel, then," Falmaron echoed with a nod, "and I’m just Falmaron. As I was saying, I have no memory of meeting you in Mandos, though in truth I’m not sure that means anything."

Glorfindel shrugged, unsure himself.

"Why don’t we go inside?" Falathar suggested. "Eärendil is around here somewhere, else he would’ve been here to greet you himself. Elwing, I think, is conversing with some birds in her tower." He nodded towards the white-stoned tower that none but the Lord and Lady of Aewellond were allowed to climb.

Falmaron nodded, then turn to the sailors standing by the rails. "Secure the ship and then go greet your friends. I’ll call for you when I’m ready to leave."

"As you will, Captain," one of the ellyn said with a careless salute and then the sailors were busy with their tasks as Falmaron, Glorfindel and the other three sailors made their way off the wharf and headed towards the tower. They were nearly there when Eärendil appeared, coming around a corner of the building attached to the tower and gave a glad cry, running to greet the Teler who gave him a fierce hug.

"So what brings you here and in the middle of a storm?" Eärendil demanded with a laugh.

"Ah, that would be telling now, wouldn’t it?" Falmaron replied with a laugh of his own.

"Come in, then, and warm yourself," Eärendil said, "and you can tell us all about it. Your crew?"

"Securing the ship and then they’re off to visit friends," the captain answered. "I don’t think we’re going anywhere until after this storm blows itself out."

"Good, good," Eärendil said eagerly. "You never stay long enough as far as I’m concerned. But come, I see Elwing is waving to us. She’ll be down presently."

They all looked up to see the Lady of Aewellond looking down at them and waved back. Then she disappeared and they went inside and Aerandir quickly went to the kitchen and presently brought back some mulled wine that had been simmering on a backburner, infusing the house with the tangy scents of cinnamon and orange and other spices. By now Elwing had joined them and others, including Hendor, Galdor and Legolas, also came in until Falmaron had a good sized audience eagerly waiting to hear what the sea captain had to tell them. Glorfindel, the newest member of their little clique, sat on a bench against the wall, sipping his wine and watching everyone around him, wondering why this Teler looked so familiar to him.

"Why are you here, Falmaron?" Eärendil asked when all were settled. "What brings you here in the teeth of winter? I thought you would be well south by now."

"And certainly I had planned to winter in Avallónë as usual," Falmaron said after taking a sip of his wine, "but something compelled me to come here instead. Indeed, I was already more than halfway to Tol Eressëa when the urge to come here came over me." He gave them a rueful look. "My crew thought I was insane, though none were stupid enough to say so. Frankly, so did I, but the more I ignored the feeling the more intense it became and so I was two days out from Alqualondë when I ordered the ship turned about. Naturally, the wind was against us and we spent much of our time tacking."

"How long...?" Eärendil began to ask.

"It’s taken us two days longer than it should have to get here," Falmaron answered.

Glorfindel did a quick calculation. "Then you turned about just before the Gates of Winter as those of Gondolin called the solstice," he said.

Falmaron gave him a considering look. "Yes, that sounds about right."

"But why?" Elwing insisted. "Why did you feel the need to come here?"

Falmaron shrugged. "I do not know, Cousin," he replied, "I only know that I needed to be here."

"Cousin?" Glorfindel asked, latching onto the word. It was the term normally used between those who were related to one another within the first three degrees of consanguinity and not for more distant affinities, yet Glorfindel knew that none of Elwing’s family had survived.

Falmaron gave him a smile. "Elwing is my first cousin twice removed, for her great-grandfather is mine uncle."

Glorfindel blinked at that bit of news. "You’re Lindarion’s brother," he said. "That’s why you seemed familiar."

"You have met my older brother, then," Falmaron said.

Glorfindel nodded. "Indeed. I have met your entire family. Your atar helped me to come here though he knows not where Aewellond lies, only that it lies somewhere in the North. He provided me with provisions and aid."

Falmaron gave him a puzzled look. "You have the look of the Vanyar. Did you die in this War of Wrath everyone talks about?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "My atar was of the Noldor," he answered. "I died in Gondolin."

Falmaron rose suddenly to everyone’s surprise and stared at Glorfindel for the longest time, his expression unreadable. No one dared to speak, but Glorfindel slowly stood to face the Teler, not sure what the ellon meant to do. Finally, Falmaron spoke, his voice low and full of deep emotion.

"You... are a Kinslayer?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No. I was with Turucáno. He forbade us to join in the fight." He paused and tilted his head as if considering something. "Does it really matter now?"

"To me?" Falmaron replied with a surprised look. "No. Of course not. I have no animosity towards my slayer, but...." His expression became more puzzled.

"What is it, Falmaron?" Eärendil asked with concern. He and the others had remained silent until now, not wishing to interfere, but the Star-lord felt it was time to speak, rising as he did so to lay a hand on the captain’s arm. "Why are you upset?"

Falmaron looked at him and it seemed as if he only then remembered that he and Glorfindel had an audience. He gave Eärendil and the others a warm smile. "Forgive me, my friends. I did not mean to upset any of you. Come. Let us sit and perhaps I can explain."

He sat and Eärendil and Glorfindel followed suit. Elwing motioned to Galdor to pour more wine into everyone’s goblets. Meanwhile, Falmaron continued staring meditatively at Glorfindel, who returned his gaze with equanimity, sipping on his drink.

"Has Atar then forgiven the Noldor for killing me?" Falmaron finally asked.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "To the best of my knowledge, your atar, indeed your entire family, is on good terms with the Noldor, or at least with Arafinwë and his family. You know that Findaráto has been released from Mandos?"

Falmaron looked surprised and shook his head. "No. I hadn’t heard. When?"

"About a century or so ago," Glorfindel answered. "I have only been released for a few years myself."

"Falmaron, will you not tell us the story?" Elwing asked gently. "We have never pried but we are curious to know what happened to you."

Falmaron stared at his cousin for a moment and then shrugged. "There’s not much to tell, really. On the day I was killed I was not in Alqualondë. I was acting as a guide to an ellon, a Vanya, dedicated in service to Lady Yavanna. He was cataloguing the plants that flourished in and around the sea. It was my lot to act as his escort, making sure he did not do himself an injury in his enthusiasm." He paused and grimaced slightly. "It wasn’t even my turn."

"Turn?" Eärendil asked. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, it’s just that Atar had each of his children acting as Cemendil’s escort and that day it should have been Lindarion, but at the last minute he asked me to take over for him because... because... I forget now why." He frowned again, as if trying to recapture the memory and then shrugged in a resigned way. "Doesn’t matter now why. The end result is that as we were returning to Alqualondë we found ourselves in the middle of a pitched battle. My memory of it is still confused but I think I tried to protect Cemendil when a couple of Noldor came at us with swords. Neither of us were armed, of course, and the shock of seeing our ships in flames....Anyway, I died. I don’t know what happened to Cemendil."

The room was absolutely silent for the longest time, as if they were afraid to breathe and thereby break the spell of Falmaron’s tale, so simple in the telling, yet so fraught with horror and pain. Finally, the Teler, whose expression had gone dark with memory, shook himself and gave them a rueful look.

"When I was Reborn and returned to Alqualondë I was dismayed to find my family feeling bitter over my death. I remember Olwen asking me if I knew who killed me. I’m not sure what they would have done with the information if I had had it, which I didn’t. I knew none of the Noldor by sight except my sister’s children. I couldn’t understand why they were so upset with me for not being angry for having died, for not feeling hatred for my slayer. Yet, what was the point? For all I knew my slayer was himself slain and we might very well have played together in ignorant bliss within the Halls of Waiting. That was something I don’t think my family could accept. I finally could not take it any longer, so I left, went to Tol Eressëa where I befriended some sailors and hired on as crew. After a few years, I bought my own ship and the rest you know."

"Well I don’t," Glorfindel said with a smile, "but that’s of no consequence to me. Suffice it to say that when Olwë and Lindarion joined Arafinwë and Findaráto on a Progress through Tol Eressëa this past summer, they were confronted with a number of Noldorin Reborn and Exiles and neither seemed unduly upset by it. They treated all with respect and Lindarion and I became fast friends."

Falmaron smiled. "I am glad to hear this, more than you can know. I vowed I would never return to Alqualondë so long as there was one Teler who held hatred in his heart for what happened. Hatred leads nowhere except to death, death of one’s fëa if not of one’s hröa."

"Well, I cannot speak for all the Teleri," Glorfindel said, "but I can tell you that your family and those whom I met during my brief visit to Alqualondë appear to hold no animosity towards the Noldor. Your atar, in fact, spoke eloquently about forgiveness and a need to move forward and ensure that such a thing never happens again."

"I am glad to hear it," Falmaron said with great emotion.

"So does that mean you will return to Alqualondë and be reconciled with your family, Cousin?" Elwing asked. "It has grieved me deeply that you severed your ties with them. My family, too, is a victim of Kinslaying, and for long and long I held hatred in my heart, but I realized that it would not bring them back to me any sooner. It’s taken me a long time to forgive those who murdered my family and forced me to abandon my own children."

Falmaron took Elwing’s hands in his and squeezed them. "This I know and I honor you for it. I have the advantage of passing through Lord Námo’s demesne and being taught by him and the Lady Nienna, yet you came to this on your own."

"Not on my own," Elwing corrected with a smile. "I had the help of my beloved and my friends."

Falmaron nodded in acknowledgment, then turned his attention back to Glorfindel. "So, what brings you here, my friend? You say you were of Gondolin. I know little of what happened in the Outer Lands and care even less, but I will hear your tale now that I have told you mine."

"Which is only fair," Glorfindel said with a smile. "Well, as I said, I followed Turucáno’s banner and...."

****

The telling was long, for Falmaron interrupted with questions and the day was dying towards evening by the time Glorfindel brought his story to a close. At one point, Elwing excused herself to check with the cooks about dinner, returning shortly to let them know that dinner would be ready in another hour or so. Glorfindel, meanwhile, finished up his narrative, telling Falmaron about how he arrived in Aewellond under Mánatamir’s guidance.

"Ah, Mánatamir," Falmaron said with a laugh. "Him I know quite well. It was he who led me here the first time and ever since I have acted as the go-between for the people here and in Avallónë, trading back and forth, when I’m not exploring the coast and the islands. I was planning to return here in the spring laden with goods for trade, but now I’m not sure I should risk the seas at this time. They can be treacherous with storms."

"Yet, you say you were nearly to Tol Eressëa when you felt the urge to turn back and come here," Eärendil said and Falmaron nodded.

"My heart told me I was needed here and so I came."

"Yet, why?" Glorfindel asked. "As you can see, we are not in straitened circumstances. All is well here, is it not?" He asked this of Eärendil and Elwing and both nodded.

"Well, we are glad you are here, nonetheless, Cousin," Eärendil said to Falmaron, "and welcome you and your crew for as long as you wish to stay."

"Thank you," Falmaron said, then frowned. "If there is naught amiss here, as you say, then why did I feel so strongly that my presence was needed here?"

Suddenly the air was filled with the perfume of lemongrass mixed with rosemary and Mánatamir was there in their midst, smiling. "Perhaps I can answer that."

****

Elerína: (Quenya) Star-crowned. Also a name of Taniquetil.