7: Ingwë In Tirion

Ingwë stared reflectively at the Mindon Eldaliéva rising high above the houses and palaces of Tirion, its light ever shining, casting silver shadows down the length of the Calacirya as he led his entourage towards the western gate of the city. It had been some time since he had last been in this first city of the Eldar and the memory of his original leavetaking was not a pleasant one. He and Finwë had not parted on good terms, for the Noldo had been grieved at Ingwë’s departure, though the breach in their friendship was eventually healed with the marriage of Ingwë’s beloved sister, Indis, to the Noldóran.

Elindis, riding beside him, gave him a gentle knowing smile. "It always seems... smaller than I remember it, no matter the number of times we visit," she said.

Ingwë gave her a puzzled look. "The tower?"

She shook her head. "The city."

Ingwë shrugged. "When we Vanyar left there were more than enough empty houses. I imagine that it has taken the Noldor some time to fill the city with people again. There has been no need for expansion as yet."

Elindis nodded. "I suppose you are correct. I look forward to seeing Indis again and her children. I think the last time we saw them all together was when Artanis was still an elfling."

Her husband sent her a warm smile. "Well we did see them at the trial."

"That doesn’t count," Elindis countered. "You and I barely spoke to Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë and Indis wasn’t there."

"Well, you two will have plenty of time to catch up on all the family gossip," Ingwë said indulgently.

Then, there was no more time to talk as they entered the city and were greeted by Ñolofinwë, who met them alone, save for the ubiquitous guards, in the plaza before the western gate, contrary to all protocol. Yet the look of relief and gladness on the younger ellon’s face more than told the story for Ingwë and he once again silently castigated Finwë for his stupidity and adamance.

"Be welcome, Ingwë Ingaran to Tirion," Ñolofinwë said formally, giving his uncle a deep bow before turning to Elindis. "And to thee, Elindis Ingatári, thrice welcome. My amillë has been quite impatient for thine arrival."

Ingwë laughed. "Which is why you have broken all protocol to meet us here, is it?"

Ñolofinwë blushed slightly. "She was getting on my nerves," he muttered, keeping his eyes down.

Elindis’ laugh was merry and she went to her nephew and bestowed upon him a kiss as between close kin. "Then we should not try your amillë’s patience much longer. Let us to the palace and greet the rest of the family."

Ñolofinwë gave them both a warm smile. "I’ve made provisions for your escort, Uncle." All formality was put aside as he led them up the main avenue towards the palace with Ingwë on his right and Elindis on his left, "and I’ve opened up the north wing for your use. It’s been closed for ages, but it looks towards Taniquetil and Vanyamar and so I thought...."

Ingwë gave his nephew a brief hug and a smile. "It is well, Nephew. I’m sure we will be quite comfortable."

The eldest son of Indis gave Ingwë a grateful look. "I’m so glad you came," he whispered with heartfelt emotion. "I don’t know what to do. I never wanted..."

"Hush now, hinya," Ingwë said, putting an arm around the younger ellon’s shoulders. "All is well. I am here and I will help you. You are not alone in this, Ari," using Ñolofinwë’s pet name.

Ñolofinwë smiled. "Thank you, both of you."

"We are, after all, family and what else are families for if not to help one another?" Elindis said softly and Ñolofinwë felt himself relax for the first time since his atar had left, taking a third of Tirion’s citizens with him.

****

The meeting between Ingwë and his sister was somewhat strained, though she greeted Elindis warmly enough. Beside her, waiting for their arrival were two younger ellith — Anairë, Ñolofinwë’s wife, and Nerdanel, Fëanáro’s long-suffering spouse. Ingwë had not seen Nerdanel before, for when Ñolofinwë had wed, Fëanáro and his sons had not attended, and so he looked upon the elleth with interest.

Nerdanel had the typical dark hair of the Noldor though there were red highlights which explained the red hair sported by Nelyafinwë and Telufinwë and to a lesser degree her other sons. Her eyes were also dark grey. She stood proudly beside the Noldotári and there was no hint of sorrow or self-pity in her eyes, much to Ingwë’s approval.

"Well, Brother," Indis said with a sigh as they made their way into the palace, "I’m not sorry to see you but I think your coming here at this time is a mistake."

"Oh?" Ingwë replied. "You indicated in your last missive that you did not feel up to the task of instructing your son on the intricacies of ruling a nation. I was under the impression you were asking for my help. Was I wrong?"

"Not to say wrong," Indis retorted, "but I think your being here will only inflame the resentment our people are feeling at the moment. Finwë is their king...."

"A king who deserted them for selfish personal reasons," Ingwë interrupted coldly. "I’ve already said my piece to Finwë and he knows well where I stand in this. I gave him my promise that I would look out for you and your sons and offer whatever help you needed. It is why I am here."

"Well, I am grateful that you are, Uncle," Ñolofinwë said fervently, hoping to stave off his amillë’s next spate of words. Her expression had not softened since the royal party had arrived. "I welcome your wisdom and experience and hope that I can learn from you what I need to know to be a good ruler to my people."

Ingwë smiled at his nephew. "You are most welcome, hinya. We do not intend to remain long at any rate, just for a few handful of weeks, if for no other reason than I want to make sure my sons don’t have enough time to destroy Vanyamar in our absence."

That got a laugh from everyone, even Indis, and the mood lightened as the family continued on towards the north wing where the High King and Queen would take up residence while in Tirion.

****

"The first rule of being a leader," Ingwë said to Ñolofinwë as the two sat together after the welcoming feast in what was Finwë’s private study and was now Ñolofinwë’s, "is never confuse wisdom with common sense."

His nephew gave him a quizzical look as the two of them sat before the fireplace sipping their wine. Ingwë smiled knowingly.

"Wisdom comes from experience, but common sense comes from here," and he reached over and touched the other ellon’s chest. "You have little wisdom in the way of ruling, though I have no doubt you have watched your atar as he did the things a good ruler should."

Ñolofinwë nodded but did not comment. Ingwë continued. "But you do have common sense, the notion of what is right and fair and what is not." Again his nephew nodded. "So, for now, use your common sense. Listen to what your heart tells you and then if you still have doubts, go to those whom you trust for their wisdom and their compassion before making any decision."

"Compassion?" Ñolofinwë asked, not entirely sure what his uncle meant.

Ingwë took another sip of wine before answering. "Wisdom, or rather, the accumulation of experiences, should always be coupled with compassion. There are those, unfortunately, who do not have compassion though they are wise in the ways of the world. These are very dangerous people, for they calculate everything to a nicety and people are often left out of the equation."

The younger ellon sat for a time, mulling over his uncle’s words, but in the end he shook his head, not really sure what to think. "I’m sorry, Uncle, I don’t understand."

Ingwë nodded, realizing that this particular lesson, perhaps the most important he could impart, would also be the most difficult. "Do you genuinely care for the needs of your people?" he asked softly. "Not just the needs of your nobles, but for the needs of the least among you? Other than your own body servants, do you even see the people who keep this palace running, the cleaners and washers, the guards and gardeners, the cooks and stablehands, the maids who see to the comfort of your guests, and everyone else in between? Do you even know their names and their families, what their hopes are and their dreams?"

Ñolofinwë sat staring at Ingwë in shock. He wasn’t sure if even his atar could have answered such a question in the affirmative. He was ashamed to realize that he had no idea who even cleaned his apartments, though he suspected Anairë might.

Ingwë watched the play of emotions across his nephew’s face and knew he had touched upon something that had never occurred to the younger ellon and wondered anew if Finwë had been that neglectful of his younger sons’ education. Outwardly he appeared calm but inside he was seething at his brother-in-law’s seeming indifference to his younger sons. Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë were as full worthy of Finwë’s love and respect as Fëanáro but apparently the Noldo had allowed himself to be besotted with his elder son simply because Fëanáro was a living reminder of his first love. Not for the first time Ingwë wondered why Finwë had ever sought to remarry.

When the silence between the two had stretched to an uncomfortable limit, Ingwë reached over and placed a hand on Ñolofinwë’s knee. "I don’t expect you to run out and start asking the names of everyone you meet in the hallways of the palace, hinya," he said with a gentle smile and Ñolofinwë looked less distraught. "I am merely giving you something to think about." He leaned back and gave his nephew a measuring look. "As an experiment, why don’t you ask your brother as well as your own sons and even your brother’s children if they can name any of the members of the household staff beyond their own personal servants and guards. Perhaps it will give you all an incentive to be more aware of those who see to your safety and comfort."

Ñolofinwë smiled then and nodded. "I will ask them tomorrow at breakfast."

Ingwë hid his own smile at the look of anticipation in the younger ellon’s eyes, glad that this first lesson had gone so well.

****

Findaráto trailed after his parents into the family dining hall for the breaking of fast. It had become a custom for Indis’ sons and their families to breakfast together. Sometimes, Nelyafinwë or Macalaurë would join them, but the other sons of Fëanáro never bothered, preferring to dine in their own apartments; Finwë also rarely joined them and when he did the others were constrained to be more formal than usual.

The oldest son of Arafinwë and Eärwen was in a reflective mood. His younger brothers were having one of their usual mild arguments about who was the better bowman or swordsman or rider. Findaráto shook his head as he listened to their friendly argument. It seemed that was all they ever cared about. And Artanis was almost as bad. As young as she was, she was better at most things than her brothers, except for Findaráto. No one disputed his preeminence in all these matters and more, for he was also a scholar if not exactly a loremaster in the same class as his Uncle Fëanáro.

He shook his head slightly, not willing to think about Fëanáro and the shame he had brought upon the House of Finwë with his rash accusations and attack on Uncle Ñolofinwë. The trial had disturbed him on many levels and he had been spending much of his time mulling over the implications of all that had been said... and not said.

His ruminations were interrupted when he realized upon entering the dining hall that something was happening. For one thing Ingwë and Elindis were present, though Anamillë Indis was not, and Findaráto groaned inwardly, for with the High King and Queen of all of Eldamar there, breakfast was bound to be stiff and formal and boring, in spite of the fact that they were also family. He was almost tempted to bow out and have someone bring his breakfast to his rooms but realized that it would be considered rude, so he made his obeisance to Ingwë and went to the sideboard which was laden with food, for breakfast was the most informal of all the meals taken and everyone helped themselves.

He found his usual seat, not at the high table (he had only once been seated there in honor of his coming-of-age) but at the table where his family usually sat together. The High King and Queen he noticed were seated on either side of his Uncle Ñolofinwë and his wife at the high table, quietly discussing something, which Findaráto could not hear, so he concentrated on his breakfast, stilling Angaráto and Aicanáro who had continued their argument into the dining hall with a quelling look. Even Artanis appeared suitably subdued in the presence of the two royal Vanyar.

Then, Ñolofinwë stood up and all eyes centered on him with a mixture of amazement and confusion. Findaráto watched with interest, not his uncle, but great-Uncle Ingwë who sat there with an amused smile on his face. He had to force himself to listen to Ñolofinwë.

"... come to my attention that perhaps my education in the ways of governing has been sorely neglected and I wondered if anyone else suffered from the same neglect. Uncle Ingwë asked me a simple question yesterday and to my embarrassment I found I could not answer, so I thought to ask each of you the same question and see if any of you fare better than I did." He smiled at that and Findaráto realized that his uncle did not mean for this to be taken too seriously, though obviously it was important.

"So what was the question?" Arafinwë asked his brother and there were many interested nods throughout the room.

"Just this," Ñolofinwë answered. "How many members of the household staff, from bedchamber maids to gardeners, can you name, other than your own personal body servants and guards?"

Ñolofinwë sat down, a smug smile on his face as everyone else gave each other confused looks. Even Findecáno and Turucáno looked a bit nonplused at the question, which, truthfully, had been most unexpected.

Arafinwë was the first to break the silence. "Well, let’s see... there’s... um... and then there’s...." he stuttered, looking suddenly embarrassed and Findaráto gave him a sympathetic look.

"Anyone?" Ingwë asked, looking around the room at his sister’s family.

"Do you know any of them, Uncle Ingwë?" Artanis asked suddenly and both her parents gave her hard glares which suitably chastened her.

Ingwë laughed. "But they are not my household staff, hinya," he said equably.

Findaráto sighed, not really wanting to do this, but feeling that he should. He rose and everyone’s eyes fell on him and he started to blush. He really did not like being the center of attention. He kept his eyes studiously on his plate. "Well, there’s Calandil, who used to be Anatar’s chief guard but is now Uncle Ñolofinwë’s, and then there is Yavannamelda who is the chief cook, and Tavarion who is the head gardener, and Lótemalda who is in charge of the pages and...."

"Do you know any of the lesser staff members?" Ingwë asked suddenly, intrigued by this unassuming child’s knowledge. It would not be unusual for any of them to know the names of the heads of the various departments that ran the palace, but few bothered to learn the names of the younger staff members who did the actual chores.

Findaráto looked at Ingwë. "Some of them." Ingwë gave him an encouraging nod and he took a deep breath. "Well... there’s Calainis and Terendulë and Fereniën. They generally are the ones who clean our apartments and fetch us something if we need it." He stopped and gave them a wicked grin. "Terendulë is rather besotted of Hallacar who is one of the apprentice gardeners."

"Now, yonya," Eärwen said in gentle admonishment, "it isn’t polite to say such things about others."

"It’s true, Ammë," Findaráto rejoined with a laugh. "I caught her one day staring out the window of my sitting room watching Hallacar working in the garden below wearing naught but his breeches." He grinned even more at the memory of walking in on the unsuspecting maid and seeing her all flustered and fearing for her position. He had merely smiled, putting a finger to his lips. Then, grabbing the book he was looking for, he sauntered out of the room whistling, as if he’d not caught her sighing over an ellon.

Several of the Elves laughed at Findaráto’s words. Ingwë was quite surprised that the youngster was so aware of those around him and apparently without any coaching from others. A most unusual trait in one so young.

"So what’s the moral of all this?" Findecáno asked his atar.

"The moral, yonya," Ñolofinwë said, "is that we should all be more aware of those who offer their service to us and take the time to know who they are. Young Findaráto seems to have already learned that lesson on his own. It behooves the rest of us to do the same."

Findaráto blushed under the scrutiny of his family, especially his younger siblings and older cousins, but Ingwë gave him a wink and a smile and he felt a little better. "So how do you go about it, Finda?" his sister asked.

"Oh... well..." Findaráto shrugged, stealing a glance at Ingwë, as if looking for support. "I just... I don’t know... ask for their names?"

"It’s a start," Ingwë said with a nod. "It’s a start."

The others all looked thoughtful as they continued with their breakfast.

****

Ingaran: High King.

Ingatári: High Queen.

Hinya: My child.

Ellith: Plural of elleth: Female Elf.

Noldotári: Queen of the Noldor, i.e. Indis at this time.

Anamillë: Grandmother.

Note: Telufinwë is the youngest son of Fëanáro and Nerdanel. He will be known as Amras in Beleriand.