Rebuke

(exactly 1000 words)

Olwë stood, plainly clad, on the broad plaza that fronted the pearlescent towers of the palace, surrounded by his advisors and his fleet captains, facing the fountain that looked like a great swan alighting on the water. He listened, his grey eyes hooded and face impassive, as the sea wind blew his silvery locks about his shoulders. He watched the changing expressions of his people in the torchlight as the fiery-haired Fëanáro, who stood on the fountain's rim, urged them to return to Middle-earth. At Olwë's sides, his sons, Lindarion and Salmar, stood and he wondered what they thought of their kinsman's words.

"Cuiviénen's waters await us!" Finwë's eldest son cried out. "Take ship and go to Middle-earth to take back from Moringotto our first home under the stars, which is fair and free. We, who ought not to have forsaken those lands, have vowed to return there, to win freedom and great realms of our own, and not be bound to these narrow shores."

The torches flickered and flared, emphasizing the—Olwë could only call it madness—in Fëanáro's eyes as he exhorted the Teleri to help them build ships to carry the Noldor and themselves across the sea. When he finally fell silent, the Telerin ruler was surprised when Salmar stepped forward and faced Fëanor.

"Why would we wish to go back to those lands?" he demanded. "I am old enough to recall at least part of our great journey, and the joy we had in accepting the invitation of the Valar to come to Aman. It is this land and waters that I love, and I desire no other home besides this. I desire not to rule, but to be ruled by my lord father. I grieve that you do not trust that the Valar will do what is necessary to heal the hurts that Melkor has given this land. What you ask is folly and I will not sail east, not even to carry you and your people thence on my ships."

As if a trickle had become a stream, others in the crowd began to question Fëanáro, until it was clear that the tall elf was getting frustrated by the Teleri's rejection of his vision and their refusal to assist him.

Olwë patted Salmar on the shoulder and stepped forward, raising his hand to bring silence to the plaza. "Turn back, Fëanáro," he said. "Take thy people home to Tirion and apply thy great skills for the healing of this land. I have faith that Lord Ulmo and the other great among the Valar will redress the hurts of Melkor and that this darkness will be overcome and the night pass into a new dawn."

He nearly flinched at the wrathful expression that filled Fëanáro's face, but stood steady and unmoving as the hot words poured forth. "You renounce your friendship, even in the hour of our need!" 

When Fëanáro's next words twisted to insult, Olwë was tempted to respond in kind, but resisted the urge to fuel the fire. 

Olwë drew in a deep breath and said, his voice mild yet firm, "We renounce no friendship. But it may be the part of a friend to rebuke a friend's folly. And when the Noldor welcomed us and gave us aid, otherwise then you spoke: 'In the land of Aman we were to dwell forever, as brothers whose houses stand side by side.'" He drew himself up and waved his hand towards the white ships that were moored at the quays, rocking gently in the sheltered waters of the harbour. "But as for our white ships: those you gave us not. We learned not that craft from the Noldor, but from the Lords of the Sea; and the white timbers we wrought with our own hands, and the white sails were woven by our wives and our daughters. Therefore we will neither give them nor sell them for any league or friendship. For I say unto you, Fëanáro son of Finwë, these are to us as are the gems of the Noldor; the work of our hearts whose like we shall not make again."

Olwë thought for a moment that Fëanáro was about to draw blade on him, as he had years before on Fingolfin. Instead, he snarled, then whirled and stalked towards the street that led south to the Tirion gate of the city, disappearing into the murk beyond the reach of the torches. 

The princes, Salmar and Lindarion, moved to join Olwë and they, all three, stared after Fëanáro for a time, while the gathered crowd murmured and whispered, then began to trickle away to their homes or back to the ships they manned.

"He is unhinged," Salmar said finally. "I pity him. Atto, Veriéldar is waiting for me to look at the new rudder on the White Swan. I'll go ahead and check on the other ships there before coming home." He embraced Olwë and, beckoning to a pair of ellyn who were waiting just out of earshot, headed to the north side of the harbour where the shipyards were located.

Lindarion walked with Olwë back towards the palace, but paused near the portmaster's office. "Duty calls, Atar, along with the ledgers from the most recent voyages."

Olwë nodded to his heir. "When you are finished come and share supper with your mother and me." He watched until Lindarion had closed the door to the office behind him, then walked up the steps of the palace, his councilors and a quartet of guards trailing behind him. Fëanáro's abrupt departure was quite disturbing, but he could not determine just why. He pondered briefly if he should have sent anyone after the Noldo, but put it from his mind until after the council's business of the day was done.

I'll talk to Lirillë about it, he decided as, hours later, he turned towards the family sitting room where he'd left her when Fëanáro had appeared in the square. I wonder where his sons are?

(written Nov. 24-29, 2008)