26: Petitions and Apologies

Eärnur stayed a month and then returned to Lórien and his duties as a Lóriennildo. I was sad to see him leave but no longer despondent. My experiences in the mountains taught me one thing — running away from my problems only created more problems. By running away as I did, I allowed Nambarauto and others like him to win. I was determined not to let that happen again. And so, I set out to find a new purpose in life. First, though, there was some unfinished business which needed to be addressed....

****

“Try to stay out of trouble,” Eärnur told Finrod as they were making their way down the front portico of the palace to where a groom was waiting with the Teler’s horse.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” Finrod said sadly. “You’re the only friend I have here.”

Eärnur stopped and stared at the prince with some exasperation. “No I am not,” he said firmly. “There are others who would befriend you if you give them half a chance. Not all of them are like Lord Nambarauto or that silly elleth who only wanted your friendship so she could get something out of the Noldóran.”

Finrod scowled. “That’s what I mean. People either want nothing to do with me or they want something from me, but no one just wants to be my friend. Not like you.”

“What about Lord Herendil?” Eärnur asked. “He seems genuinely interested in you and I think he would like to be a friend. You just have to give him and others like him a chance. At least try.”

Finrod nodded, giving him an embrace. “I’ll think about it,” he said, not really wishing to commit himself one way or the other. Lord Herendil did seem to accept him and treat him with respect. Still, he felt uneasy around Herendil with his wistful expression and the sadness that lurked behind his smiles, for the ellon was still grieving for his eldest son, Vorondil, and Finrod was at a loss as to how to handle the situation. Whenever he saw Herendil he could tell that the ellon had many questions, questions for which Finrod knew he could give no real answers, and that made him uncomfortable. He tried never to be alone with Herendil if he could help it, knowing that the lord would be too polite to importune him in the presence of others.

“Do more than think about it, meldonya,” Eärnur admonished him as he mounted his horse, giving the groom a nod of thanks.

“I will. I promise,” Finrod said. “Fair journey. Give Lord Irmo and Lady Estë my sincerest regards.”

Eärnur nodded, spoke softly to the horse and soon they were away, leaving Finrod standing alone on the steps. After a time, the ellon sighed and went back inside. Eärnur’s presence had brightened the place up and now everything seemed dull and uninteresting again. He wished he felt more at home here, but he still felt at times as if he were only a visitor rather than a son of the house.

The one bright spot in all this was that Amarië had not yet returned from visiting her family. Indeed, in the last missive that she sent him, she vaguely implied that she would be staying in Vanyamar for an indefinite period of time. Finrod had a feeling that her return to Tirion was conditioned on his atar’s permission for her to do so. That was fine with him. In the meantime....

“My prince.”

Finrod resisted a sigh and turned to see Herendil and Nambarauto walking towards him. Nambarauto’s expression was neutral; Herendil’s was openly friendly.

“My lords,” he said politely.

“Young Eärnur has left then?” Herendil asked.

“Yes.” Finrod said, deciding not to elaborate.

Herendil nodded. “I am glad then to see that you are fully recovered from your... ordeal,” he said sincerely.

Nambarauto gave a small snort. Herendil shot him a disapproving look, which the other ellon ignored. Finrod nodded. “Thank you,” he said and started to turn away, wanting to get as far from these two as possible. He did not like Nambarauto and he felt guilty about Herendil and his son even though he had naught to do with the ellon’s death.

Herendil held up a hand to stay him. “I was wondering, Highness, if you would be attending tomorrow’s court.”

Finrod gave him a puzzled look, not sure what the ellon was getting at. “I suppose I will,” he said hesitantly. In truth, he had not thought about it, but assumed his atar would want him to be present.

“Good, good,” Herendil said, giving him a smile. “I look forward to seeing you there.” He gave Finrod a respectful bow, nudging Nambarauto who had remained silent throughout the exchange. The ellon gave Finrod a short bow that bordered on the insolent but Finrod let it go. The two lords then turned to go back the way they had come, leaving Finrod standing there feeling puzzled and unsure of Herendil’s motives.

****

Court the next morning was proving to be as tedious as every other court Finrod had ever attended and he was reminded of the ones he had held in Nargothrond. “Why did I ever think being king would be fun?” he groused to himself at one point when there was a lull in the ceremony. He was sitting on his atar’s right, dressed in his stiffly embroidered court garb. His atar shot him an amused look but did not speak. Eärwen, sitting on Arafinwë’s left, leaned across her husband to give her son a pat on the arm. Finrod looked up and saw her smile in understanding. He smiled back and felt himself relax.

Today’s court was dedicated primarily to petitions presented by various nobles for one reason or another. Most seemed to be asking for some favor of the Noldóran, which Arafinwë either granted or dismissed. Finrod noticed that his atar seemed to grant the requests of those nobles who were asking favors for others, especially for commoners attached to their households, while petitions asking favors for the lord or lady or for someone in their family were usually denied. Yet, it was not entirely a cut-and-dried thing.

Lady Laurelindalë, for instance, had requested that her nephew Laiqualaurë be admitted to join Arafinwë’s court as a junior courtier. When the ellon was presented to the king, Finrod was surprised to learn that he was still an elfling of forty-five. Arafinwë spent a few minutes asking the ellon about his interests and aptitudes, to which he was given shy answers. At the end of the interview, the Noldóran gave Laiqualaurë a warm smile. “I think you will do well in our court, hinya. Welcome.” Lady Laurelindalë looked immensely pleased while Laiqualaurë simply looked stunned, as if he could not believe his good fortune. The ellon’s family were beside themselves with joy and Finrod realized that his atar did not always accept people to his court simply because they were nobles.

On the other hand, Lord Artamir’s request that a certain group of farmers from the Southern Fiefdoms be granted additional lands which apparently were adjacent to their own fields and had lain vacant for centuries was denied. “Those fields belong to the Crown,” Arafinwë said, “in trust to the original owners who will someday reclaim them.”

“The owners are either dead or have yet to return from Heceldamar,” Lord Artamir exclaimed. “Why should such good land go fallow for so long?”

“If the owners are dead,” Arafinwë said, giving Finrod a quick glance, “they will someday be released from Mandos. When that day comes I will present them with their lands. What they do with them afterwards is their affair. If they still live but have not yet returned, then we will wait.”

“Wait for what, your Majesty, and for how long?” Artamir asked, clearly frustrated.

Finrod narrowed his eyes, staring at the lord. “These farmers,” he said suddenly, “would they be beholden to you?”

Arafinwë gave him an approving look. Artamir’s expression became guarded. “They have my patronage,” he said.

“And no doubt they tithe a portion of their produce to you,” Finrod replied with a nod. “So, if they were granted these lands which have been vacant since the time of the Darkening, your share of the income would increase, wouldn’t it?”

“The income is unimportant,” Artamir protested. “Good land should not be allowed to lie fallow for so many yéni.”

Finrod turned to his atar. “Is that true? Have these fields been allowed to revert to the wild?”

Arafinwë shook his head. “On the contrary. When I became king, I appointed stewards to oversee any farmland that had been deserted by those who went into Exile. They have been charged with seeing that the lands continue to flourish and be productive, though on a lesser scale than if their original owners were working the land. The produce is sold and the monies placed in trust. When the original owners return, and some of them will, then they will find a handsome sum of money and arable lands waiting for them. Whether they choose to sell the lands or not is up to them. I am merely the caretaker of their interests. I have done the same for other families whose properties were left behind and there are no kin to oversee them and ensure that they are intact for when their owners return.”

Finrod nodded, looking pleased. “Then, obviously, this petition is designed to fatten the purses of these farmers, not to mention that of Lord Artamir, at the expense of others.”

“Others who deserted the lands,” Artamir exclaimed, looking affronted. “Why should they be rewarded for leaving while those who remained behind are denied any reward for their loyalty?”

Before Arafinwë could respond to Artamir’s complaint, Finrod suddenly stood up, his eyes blazing. He stepped down from the dais to stand before the lord, who took a step back in surprise. Finrod removed the coronet from his head and held it out to Artamir, whose expression was one of bemusement.

“You are correct,” Finrod said quietly. “Why should any of us who deserted Aman be rewarded for our rebellion? Here.” He reached up and placed the coronet on Artamir’s head, ignoring the gasps from the court. “You deserve this more than I, for you never left while I not only left but left gladly and if I had had my way I would never have returned.” Then he turned and gave his parents a low bow before heading for the doors leading out of the throne room. The silence was absolute.

“Yonya,” Arafinwë said gently. “Come back here.”

Finrod sighed and did as he was bid, though he only came as far as the dais, standing next to a still stunned looking Artamir. His ammë’s expression was carefully blank though Finrod sensed that his words had saddened her and he regretted them for her sake even if they were true. His atar stared at him with what could only be described as fatherly exasperation.

“Take back your coronet and come sit beside me,” Arafinwë said, still speaking gently.

Finrod glanced at Artamir who took the coronet from his head and handed it to Finrod. He did not place it on his own head. Instead, he climbed the steps of the dais and sat in his chair, his eyes on the coronet that he held in his lap.

“My son, impetuous though he may be, is correct in one thing,” Arafinwë stated to his court. “No one deserves to be rewarded, not those who left nor those who remained behind. Reward is not the issue here. Fairness and justice are. There are many reasons why those of us who initially left did so, just as there are many reasons why some of us returned while others went on. These lands, you say, were deserted. Fair enough. But it does not necessarily follow that you who remained behind or returned with me should automatically profit from what others gave up, some more reluctantly than others, I have no doubt. These lands are held in trust and will remain with the Crown until their original owners come and claim them and if that means they remain with the Crown until the end of Arda, so be it. Your petition, Lord Artamir, is denied.”

Lord Artamir gave the Noldóran a stiff bow and retreated, his expression stony. Arafinwë turned to Finrod and reached over to take the coronet from him, placing it on his son’s head, then bending down and planting a kiss on Finrod’s left temple. “The next time you decide to take over my court, yonya,” he whispered in his ear, “ask first.”

Finrod blushed. “Sorry, Atto,” he murmured.

Arafinwë patted him on the arm and turned his attention to the next petitioner. It was only when the chamberlain announced Lord Herendil’s name that Finrod looked up and saw that not only was Lord Herendil approaching, but Lords Nambarauto and Selmacas, as well as Selmacas’ wife and daughter. Finrod held his breath, wondering what this might mean, remembering Herendil’s question of the day before.

The four gave the Noldóran and his queen their obeisance. Arafinwë nodded graciously. “Lord Herendil. You and your fellow nobles wish to present us with a petition?”

“Actually, your Majesty, we wish to address his Highness, Prince Findaráto,” Herendil said.

Arafinwë gave the five nobles standing before him a considering look, then turned to Finrod. “Wouldst thou hear what Lord Herendil hath to say to thee, yonya?” he asked formally.

Finrod stared at his atar and realized that if he said no then Arafinwë would dismiss Herendil and the others summarily and that would be the end. He was almost tempted to give a negative answer, but curiosity and Eärnur’s parting words won out and he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Arafinwë then turned to Herendil. “Speak then, my lord, to my son,” he commanded and Herendil gave a respectful bow before turning his attention to Finrod who sat there with a wary expression on his face.

“Your Highness,” Herendil said, “some months ago an incident occurred which, I believe, led to you leaving Tirion with unfortunate results.”

Finrod sat there tight-lipped, wondering what the ellon was getting at. He knew that everyone there understood what was being said and he mentally cringed at the imagined titters and sly smiles that were hidden behind bland expressions.

“I formally wish to apologize for anything I may have said or done which caused you any pain,” Herendil continued and Finrod now looked at him with surprise.

“You did nothing, my lord, that caused offense and for which you need apologize,” Finrod said, “though I cannot say the same for others,” he could not help adding, casting a cool glare upon the four other nobles standing before him.

“Which is why we are all here, Highness,” Herendil said smoothly. “My companions have something they wish to say, if you will allow it.”

Finrod nodded reluctantly. Then Herendil gave Nambarauto a slight nudge. The ellon glared at him before turning his attention to Finrod. “I also wish to tender my sincerest apologies for anything I may have said that caused you any pain, your Highness.” The words were stiffly spoken and Finrod was not sure if he believed a word the ellon had uttered.

But then, Herendil turned to Selmacas, giving him a meaningful stare, and when the ellon began uttering a similar apology, Finrod realized that Herendil had somehow forced these four nobles into making formal and public apologies for their harsh and careless words. He wondered what hold Herendil might have over these four to get them to do his bidding and the very thought intrigued him, for he had not thought Herendil to be that powerful. Then, the two ladies also gave him their apologies.

At first, he wasn’t sure what he should do, but memories of his life as a king came to the fore and he straightened his spine and gave the five nobles a gracious nod. “I thank you for your apologies, my lords and ladies,” he said as regally as he knew how, “and I wish to also apologize for any offense I may have committed against you in the heat of mine anger. I fear that mine emotional responses are somewhat suspect and will be for some time. I have been told that it may be nearly a century before I reach the level of emotional maturity that I enjoyed at the time of my death.”

“Which, if memory serves, is not saying much,” Arafinwë said with a gently teasing smile.

Finrod gave him a disbelieving look. “Atto, please!” he nearly wailed, turning red with embarrassment, causing the rest of the court to start laughing. Even Nambarauto had a sour grin on his face and Lady Tarwen’s expression was actually sympathetic. Arafinwë merely threw an arm around his son’s shoulder and gave him a hug and a kiss on the brow.

When the laughter had quieted, Herendil gave Finrod a bow. “Thank you, your Highness, for accepting our apologies.”

Finrod nodded. “If you will accept mine,” he said and then, making a quick decision, he added, “and perhaps, my lord, you would favor me by joining me for dinner this evening that we may get to know one another better.”

Herendil looked pleasantly surprised and gave Finrod another bow. “It would be my honor, Highness.”

With that, the audience came to an end. Herendil and the other four nobles gave the royal family their obeisance and retreated even as the chamberlain announced that court was over. Arafinwë stood, offering his arm to Eärwen, and together they processed out with Finrod trailing behind.

****

Heceldamar: Beleriand, literally, ‘Land of Forsaken Elves’; a word used by the loremasters of Aman.