129: Lessons on Innocence

Everyone rose to their feet, half in respect and half in surprise, at the sudden appearance of the Maia. Mánatamir raised a hand to forestall their demands for an explanation.

"Peace," he said, "and sit. I will tell you what you need to know."

Glorfindel eyed the Maia with suspicion. "Need to know?" he asked. "How about just telling us what we want to know and stop treating us like children!"

There was a stunned and uneasy silence that hung in the air as the other elves just gaped at Glorfindel who never took his eyes off the Maia. Mánatamir sighed.

"Don’t make this more than it is, Glorfindel," he said quietly, and as mildly as he spoke, yet could they sense the steel underlying his voice.

Glorfindel flinched slightly at the reprimand but refused to apologize. Instead, he snarled a bitten-off oath and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Even as he was stomping down the path towards the quay he knew he was being childish and stupid but he couldn’t stop himself. There was just something about all this that rankled. He was as curious as the rest to know why Falmaron felt the need to come here, yet he could not find it in himself to sit and listen meekly to what he suspected was yet another example of Valarin manipulation passed off as something more benign.

He paused along the path, trying to control his breathing and gather his scattered thoughts into something more coherent. It was snowing again, but he ignored the flakes as they swirled about him, his mind on more important matters. He did not recall ever feeling this way before, not even in his previous life. What had changed? Why was he so suspicious of every motive put forth by the Valar? He had been so trusting before... before he learned how his own memories had been manipulated by them, made to forget Eärendil. Yes. That was it. However much he recognized why they did what they did, he had never fully accepted its necessity and the feeling of violation....

He flinched and felt himself grow ill at the thought. What Tulcaner and his fellows had done to him had been a violation, but a physical one. What the Valar had done... it smacked too much of....

He found himself on his knees heaving. He couldn’t even think the word without collapsing, so vile was the concept, yet in spite of what the One had told him, it still felt to him as if he’d been spiritually raped. The exigencies of training with the Maiar and then the summer’s Progress had forced him to push all that aside, bury it deep and out of the way, but meeting Falmaron... and then Mánatamir appearing... it was all coming back to him and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Now, more than ever, he wished Finrod was with him, comforting him. He trusted Finrod as he trusted no one else and he was feeling lost and confused with the emotions presently overwhelming him.

"Oh, gwador," he sobbed and hid his face in his hands as he knelt on the stone path while snow fell around him.

He wasn’t sure how long he knelt there, the wetness of the snow seeping into his clothes. It may have been minutes or hours. He only knew a sense of despair creeping over him. Too much had happened to him, too much that was simply wrong, too much that he still did not understand. Flashes of memory surged upward from the dimness of his mind — of a time when the Trees were alive and he was safe in the loving bosom of his family, of when they were not and madness reigned supreme, of leaving Tirion and his old life behind, little realizing what the future had in store for him. The memories that surfaced came and went in seconds, barely long enough for him to grasp their meaning, a collage of scenes that seemed to build towards a climax and then one memory came to the fore and stayed....

He was sitting in a garden in Vinyamar overlooking the Sea. Gulls screeched overhead and black-feathered terns with their forked tails strutted along the beach in search of food. Someone came and sat down beside him. Without looking up he knew it was his friend Ecthelion.

"Miss it?" the Lord of the House of the Fountain asked quietly.

Glorfindel shrugged. "Not really."

"Then why do you spend hours sitting here staring into the West?" Ecthelion enquired. "What do you hope to see?"

"Nothing," Glorfindel answered. "I do not sit here to remember, Ecthelion. I sit here to forget."

"Forget!?" his friend exclaimed. "Forget what?"

"Everything," Glorfindel answered, his voice gone cold and his eyes dark. "Everything...."

Glorfindel jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see a concerned Eärendil staring down at him, snowflakes mantling him.

"Glorfindel, come inside," the Mariner said and held out his other hand.

Numbly, Glorfindel took it and allowed himself to be drawn up and herded back into the warmth. Everyone was still there, their own expressions full of concern. Glorfindel noticed Mánatamir standing where he’d last seen him. Nothing had changed. How long had he been outside? He shook his head and snow fell from it, spattering Legolas, who uttered an oath in disgust and moved away, much to everyone’s amusement, even Glorfindel’s.

"He was kneeling in the snow," Eärendil said by way of explanation.

"You’re white as a sheet," Elwing exclaimed, coming to them and throwing a knitted blanket over Glorfindel’s shoulders. "If you were one of the Edain, I’d swear you were freezing."

"Nay, I barely registered the fact that it was snowing," Glorfindel said with a sigh as he was led back to his chair which he’d deserted. Hendor thrust a goblet of mulled wine into his hands and he nodded his thanks before taking an appreciative sip.

"I’m sorry," he said after a minute or two. "I was being very rude."

"You were being honest," Mánatamir said. "But what I said was true. You were making more of my words than was there, though I admit I might have worded things differently."

"I realized that I’ve never really accepted what the Valar did to me, even though I know they had the best of intentions in blocking my memory as they did."

"It was not an easy decision for them to make," Mánatamir said with a sympathetic look. "I was not privy to their discussions, but I know from Eönwë and Olórin that not all agreed to it. Lord Irmo especially felt it was not only wrong but ultimately futile. And of course, he was proved correct." He gave Glorfindel a brief smile and the ellon nodded.

"At any rate," the Maia continued, looking more pensive, "the damage has been done, as they say."

"Glorfindel," Eärendil then said, leaning over to lay a hand on his arm in companionship, "I know this has been very difficult for you, but I want you to know that we all love you and only want you to be happy. All of us are here for you whenever you need a willing ear. Don’t shut us out, please."

"I just didn’t want to burden...."

"Bah!" Galdor exclaimed in mild disgust. "You have never been a burden, my friend, except when you were playing one of your stupid jests."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Stupid, were they? I’ll have you know that they were works of art. Ecthelion and I...."

"Were the most impossible ellyn that ever drew breath," Hendor interjected with a mock scowl. "Do you know how many times my Lord Tuor wanted to strangle the two of you? And I can assure you Lady Idril was not far behind."

Eärendil started laughing. "Oh, yes. I remember lying in bed some nights, listening to Ada and Nana going on about Glorfindel this and Ecthelion that and when will those two grow up?" He gave Glorfindel a wicked smile. "They were convinced that the two of you were a terrible influence on me, and all the while I was lying there thinking that you and Ecthelion were the bestest uncles a lad could ever have."

Now everyone started laughing and Glorfindel blushed, not daring to look at anyone. "We were good friends, your parents, Ecthelion and I," he muttered.

"The very best, and they knew it, and treasured it," Eärendil said with all sincerity. "I often heard them speaking of you and Ecthelion with great fondness and regret that you were both lost to them. They missed you both terribly, as did I. But all that is the past," he continued. "You are not a burden, at least not to us. Whether the Valar think the same...." He gave Glorfindel a sly wink and there were knowing grins among the others.

Glorfindel nodded and looked at Falmaron, who had remained silent during the exchange. "I apologize, my lord. I fear I’ve let my personal feelings get the better of me."

Falmaron shrugged. "You are recently Reborn. I remember how close to the surface all my emotions were when I was first released. The least little thing said I took as criticism when most of the time, as I think back, it was most likely just an observation on someone’s part. You’ll grow out of it eventually."

"Why thank you," Glorfindel retorted with a sardonic twist of his lips.

"You’re most welcome, youngling," Falmaron replied, his smile unrepentant. The others snickered. The sea captain turned to Mánatamir. "You were going to explain my sudden desire to brave the winter seas to come here."

The Maia nodded. "If Glorfindel is ready to hear what I have to say."

"Sorry," Glorfindel muttered, looking contrite.

Eärendil smiled at him and gave him a wink. "We’re all ears, Mánatamir. Tell us what you will."

"It’s very simple, actually," Mánatamir began. "You, Falmaron, needed to meet with Glorfindel."

"And this meeting could not have waited until spring?" Falmaron demanded, his eyebrows rising in disbelief. Glorfindel’s own expression was unreadable to any of them as he stared at the Maia.

"It would have been better if you two had met over the summer," Mánatamir said, "but Glorfindel was not ready and the Royal Progress through Tol Eressëa took precedence. However, you might recall, Falmaron, that Eärendil and Elwing kept urging you to stay longer this time round. Had you listened to them and to your own heart you would have been here when Glorfindel arrived."

"My heart was silent on the matter," Falmaron replied, though he looked a little doubtful as if he didn’t quite believe his own words. "I wished only to spend some time continuing our mapping of the islands before we would be forced to return to Avallónë for the winter."

The Maia nodded. "Which is why it was not until you were heading back to Tol Eressëa that you allowed yourself the luxury of listening to your heart." He gave the ellon a gleeful look. "I can assure you I did everything to inspire you to return here short of grabbing the damn wheel and turning the ship around myself."

Now Falmaron blushed. "Why didn’t you?" he asked. "Why didn’t you just appear and tell me?"

Mánatamir shook his head. "I had my orders, Falmaron, very strict orders."

"What would have happened to me if I hadn’t listened and continued to Avallónë?" Falmaron now looked worried.

Mánatamir’s expression softened towards sympathy. "Why nothing would have happened, child," he said. "You and Glorfindel simply would not have met. Then or ever."

"Wh-what do you mean by that?" Falmaron demanded, his face paling and those listening also paled at the Maia’s words.

"Nothing sinister, I assure you," Mánatamir told them. "I only meant that it was unlikely that you two would ever meet because by the time you were back here, Falmaron, Glorfindel might well have returned to Tirion. You would never have learned about your family and would then have no reason to think you should return to them and reconcile with them."

"Is that what this is all about?" Glorfindel enquired. "Getting Falmaron to reconcile with his family?"

"In part," Mánatamir replied with a nod. "Falmaron needed to hear from you about your own experiences with Olwë. He needed to know that things have changed and it was time to go home, at least long enough to reconcile with his family. What he decides to do after that would be up to him."

There was a long pause as everyone considered the Maia’s words. Then, Eärendil gave Falmaron a shrewd look. "It is true that Elwing and I and all your friends here have wished for you to be reconciled with your family. We know Olwë and Lirillë and your brothers and sister and we have the greatest respect for them. Your atar welcomed Elwing without reservation while I was with the Valar and when I came to Alqualondë he welcomed me as well, though the blood of the Noldor ran in my veins."

"But not the blood of the Kinslayers," Falmaron said. "When I was first reunited with them I was disturbed by how they kept asking me about the one who killed me. Did I know who he was? Did I feel anger or hatred towards him, towards all the Noldor? I was confused by the questions because they made no sense to me and I fear I couldn’t give them the answers they were looking for. I still cannot." He turned to Glorfindel, his expression almost pleading. "You know of what I speak. You know how everything was different afterwards."

Glorfindel nodded. "Our innocence was restored to us."

"But Falmaron," Elwing retorted, "you weren’t guilty of anything. Why do you say your innocence was restored to you? You were innocent from the beginning, untainted by the madness that overtook the Noldor."

"But I wasn’t innocent, Elwing," Falmaron said with a sad smile. "I was slain. At that very moment my innocence was lost. At that moment I came face-to-face with evil and knew it for what it was. Had I survived the attack it is very likely that I would have nursed hatred in my heart and I would have become corrupted by it, perhaps corrupting others, including my family and thereby destroying them where swords had failed. Dying was what saved me and them from that fate. How then could I possibly hate the one who slew me, sending my fëa to the one place, to the one person who could cleanse me of my incipient hatred and restore me to my innocence?"

"And Olwë couldn’t understand it," Glorfindel said.

"None of them could," Falmaron nodded in agreement. "Not then, though you tell me that things have changed."

"They have indeed," Mánatamir interjected. "Your leaving them woke them up to what they were doing to you, what they were doing to themselves. It took them all time to come to terms with your new-found innocence, for they themselves were no longer innocent. Their fëar were still tainted with darkness. You did well to leave when you did, child."

"I had no choice," Falmaron said sadly. "I had no choice."

"And they came to understand that eventually," the Maia said. "But now, it is time for you to return and reconcile with them. That is why you and Glorfindel were meant to meet. He holds the key to your reconciliation."

"How so?" Glorfindel asked, looking confused.

"You were there during the Progress and interacted with Olwë and Lindarion and the other Teleri," Mánatamir answered. "You saw the way they treated the Reborn, Celepharn in particular. You are a witness to the honest respect they gave to the Noldor. Beyond that, you are the first Noldorin Reborn permitted to come to Alqualondë."

"But only because I wasn’t also a Kinslayer," Glorfindel pointed out.

Mánatamir shook his head. "No. That in itself is not the point. The point is, Olwë gave you his permission to return to Alqualondë with him. That was a monumental step forward for him, though you do not see it."

There was a considering silence among them. Then Falmaron gave Glorfindel a nod. "Mánatamir is correct," he said. "That my atar accepted you is indeed a giant step forward for him."

"And where Olwë leads, the Teleri will follow," Mánatamir said with a smile.

"And this is why I was meant to come here," Falmaron replied, "to meet Glorfindel and learn of my atar’s change of heart."

"His heart was not changed, child," the Maia responded. "He never stopped loving you. Only his perceptions were changed. Olwë has struggled through these many yéni to find some meaning in all that has happened, to salvage what he could for his people and their way of life. Nothing was the same after your death and the deaths of so many others. Innocence was lost and those who survived have never regained it. While we may regret that loss, wish it were otherwise, we cannot but recognize that something else was gained in the losing."

"And what was that?" Falmaron asked.

"Wisdom," Mánatamir replied shortly.

Falmaron snorted. "He wasn’t acting very wise where I was concerned."

The Maia smiled. "You were the final lesson," he said and Falmaron’s expression became thoughtful at the implications of what Mánatamir was saying.

"So what now?" Glorfindel asked then. "Falmaron has met me and knows his family have become more tolerant and more forgiving. So what? What does it have to do with me?"

"Nothing," came the surprising reply. "It was important for Falmaron to meet you, nothing more. What Falmaron does with the knowledge he has gained this day is his affair."

Glorfindel sat in silence, thinking about the Maia’s words and finally nodded. "Fair enough." Then he stood and threw off the blanket that Elwing had placed around his shoulders. "If you will excuse me, I think I need some time alone."

"And I need to see about my ship," Falmaron said, rising as well. "Will I and my crew be stuck here for the winter?" he asked Mánatamir. "Those goods I was meaning to bring to Avallónë will have to be unloaded if we are."

"This storm will blow itself out in a day or two," the Maia assured him. "You may leave then. I have been commanded to tell you that Lord Ulmo has already instructed Ossë and Uinen to see that you arrive safely in Alqualondë."

"And what makes you think I will go there first?" Falmaron asked. "I would prefer going straight to Avallónë and get this shipment unloaded. Besides, from what I understand, my family isn’t even in Alqualondë. There’s no point my being there unless they are."

But Mánatamir wasn’t listening to the ellon. In fact, they could all see that the Maia’s eyes had that glazed look of someone communing with another in ósanwë and they remained respectfully silent. Glorfindel stayed where he was, curious to know what would happen next. Then Mánatamir’s expression cleared and he gave them his full attention. "There have been some unexpected developments in Valmar and things are getting out of control."

"What’s happened?" Elwing exclaimed.

"All was going well until Lord Morcocáno was about to speak," the Maia replied.

"Who is Lord Morcocáno?" Eärendil asked.

"The head of Avallónë’s city council," Falmaron answered before Mánatamir could speak.

"A regular troublemaker," Glorfindel added.

"He is also the head of the delegation from Avallónë," Mánatamir said.

Glorfindel gave a low whistle of surprise. The other elves stared at him. "This is significant to you?" Eärendil asked.

Glorfindel nodded. "Yes, very significant. Damn, but I wish we weren’t so far from everything," he exclaimed in frustration. "Not that my presence there is needed, but I hate being so far away from... well, from everything." He ended on a lame note, giving them an apologetic look, and there were knowing chuckles all around.

"So what exactly happened with this Lord Morcocáno?" Galdor asked and Mánatamir went on to explain about Uinendilmë and Morcocáno storming from the council chamber, ending his tale with Brethorn’s words.

"He actually mentioned me by name?" Falmaron asked in surprise.

Mánatamir smiled. "It got Olwë’s attention and the attention of the other Teleri. Your atar admits having been responsible for driving you away and asked Brethorn to let you know when next you met how much he loves you."

Falmaron sat in thoughtful silence for a moment and then gave them a shrug. "I guess it is time to go home," he said softly and then he turned to Glorfindel. "If you wish, you’re welcome to sail with us. It’ll take eight or nine days for you to reach Valmar and by then the whole situation may have changed, but at least you’ll be there and not here stewing."

"Thank you for the offer," Glorfindel replied, "but I don’t think I have permission to leave here." He glanced first at Mánatamir and then at Eärendil.

"You are not a prisoner, Glorfindel," Mánatamir said with no little exasperation. "Go if you wish, stay if you wish. That is for you to decide."

Glorfindel nodded. "Then I will go, that is, if you have no objections," he said this last to Eärendil, who shook his head.

"No objections," the Mariner replied with a smile. "But you will return, won't you?" The look he gave him told Glorfindel that this was more a command than a question.

"In the spring with Falmaron, I promise," Glorfindel replied with a nod.

"And I will hold you to it, my friend," Eärendil said, giving the ellon a firm hug.

"What of Alagos?" Glorfindel asked.

"Best he stays here with us," Eärendil said. "Falmaron’s vessel isn’t equipped to transport a horse. You’ll be able to find one once you reach Alqualondë." Glorfindel nodded reluctantly.

"That’s settled then," Elwing said with a satisfied look as she stood up. Just then, one of the servants arrived to announce that dinner was ready to be served. Elwing thanked her and gestured to the others. "Why don’t we go in to dinner?" She took Eärendil’s arm and everyone followed them out of the room, everyone, that is, save Mánatamir, who watched them leave with a slight smile on his face before fading from view to go in search of Cundu who was in a corner of the kitchen happily chewing on a bone.