38: First Impressions

Ingwion was somewhat at a loss. He had decided that a suite of rooms on the ground floor looking out upon a small shade garden would be suitable as offices and the palace staff was busy remodeling the rooms, removing the bedroom and sitting room furniture and replacing them with desks and bookshelves and the like. His secretary, a capable ellon named Eccaldamos, oversaw most of the renovations, leaving Ingwion at loose ends.

"I really do not know what I’m supposed to do," he confided to Eccaldamos at one point. "I’ve never been an ambassador before."

His secretary smiled. "Why don’t you take a stroll through the city, Highness, and see what the mood of the people is?" the ellon suggested. "You can take Marilla and Tulcafindil with you," naming his two young assistants. "They have never been here and it would be good for them to acquaint themselves with the city."

Ingwion nodded, looking relieved. "I will do that. Perhaps I can speak to some of the people and see what they have to say. I feared my first report to Atto would consist of one sentence: ‘Have arrived safely and will write more later’."

Eccaldamos chuckled. "I am sure you can come up with something more original than that, Highness. Be sure to take at least one of the guards with you, though. If you encounter any trouble, Marilla and Tulcafindil are not equipped to defend themselves."

Ingwion was grateful that Eccaldamos had not included him in that statement, though he suspected the ellon had done so silently. He appreciated his secretary’s tact and now understood his atar’s decision to include him in their group. Eccaldamos had been one of those overseeing the royal archives and Ingwion had thought him somewhat staid and a bit dull at first. He was coming to admire the ellon’s quick mind and easy manner and he thought the two might eventually become friends.

"I will do that," he said. "In fact, I think I will ask for the loan of one of my cousins to accompany us."

"Hmmm.... if I might suggest, Highness, I would ask Lady Artanis to accompany you."

"Oh? Why her and not one of the others?" Ingwion asked, intrigued.

"Because she is the youngest child of the youngest son of the Noldóran," Eccaldamos replied, stressing the word ‘youngest’ twice, and giving Ingwion a meaningful look.

It took Ingwion a moment to figure out what Eccaldamos was saying and then he nodded. "Yes, I see what you mean. Thank you."

Eccaldamos gave his prince a nod of his head. "Enjoy your walk, Highness, and do try to stay out of trouble. I do not wish my first report to your atar to be: ‘Have arrived but not safely. Will write more when I can’."

Ingwion burst out laughing as he left the ellon to hunt down Arafinwë to ask his permission to allow Artanis to accompany him on his tour of the city. Arafinwë was surprised when he heard Ingwion’s request.

"You need not my permission, Ingwion," he said. "Artanis is certainly of age."

"But you are her atar and these are troubling times," Ingwion pointed out.

"Then I appreciate you coming to me," Arafinwë said with a smile. "I believe my daughter is in the laniesambë."

Ingwion thanked him and made his way out through one of the gardens towards a low building that was set up as a weaving room for the ellith of the palace. He was well aware of Artanis’ skill at weaving and had often admired her work. He thought he might ask her for one of her smaller tapestries to grace his own apartments.

Even before he reached the building he could hear the clack-clack of shuttles moving back and forth. Entering, he let his eyes adjust to the lesser light inside and saw that there were three other ellith besides Artanis all working away on looms. As he made his way to where Artanis was seated she looked up and smiled.

"Ingwi, what a surprise," she exclaimed without stopping her work.

"I came to ask a favor, two, in fact," he said with a smile.

The elleth stilled the loom and gave him an enquiring look.

"I was planning to wander through the city and reacquaint myself with it as it’s been some time since I was last here," he stated. "I am taking Marilla and Tulcafindil with me for they have never been here and I was wondering if you would care to join us. You probably know the city better than I and I am sure there have been changes since I last resided here."

"Not as many as you might think," Artanis said, "but perhaps there are a few. I would be happy to accompany you. When do you wish to go?"

"Perhaps after breakfast tomorrow?" Ingwion suggested.

Artanis nodded. "That will be fine." Then she gave him an arch look. "You mentioned two favors."

Ingwion smiled broadly. "I have always admired your skill as a weaver and wondered if I might purchase one of your smaller tapestries for myself."

The elleth widened her eyes in surprise and then gave him a wide smile. "Truly?" she asked excitedly. At Ingwion’s nod, she pursed her lips. "I think I might have one that will suit and do not even think of offering me payment. It will be my gift to you, cousin to cousin."

"Are you sure?" Ingwion asked reluctantly. "I am willing to pay...."

Artanis waved a hand in dismissal. "Yes, I am sure and no, you are not paying me. Consider it a... a begetting day gift."

Ingwion gave her a snort of amusement. "You’ve never given me a begetting day gift before," he pointed out

"Then this will make up for all those that I’ve missed," she retorted with a sniff.

Ingwion laughed and bent down to give his cousin a warm kiss on her cheek. "Then I thank you for your gift," he said softly and she smiled, obviously pleased with herself as he gave her and the other ellith a bow and left.

****

Marilla and Tulcafindil were shy and obviously feeling uncomfortable as they accompanied the two royals on their tour of Tirion. Neither was much older than five or six yéni. Artanis, however, was quick to befriend them, asking about their families and interests. Marilla shyly spoke of her painting and her hope of one day being admitted into the painters’ guild.

"Once I’ve improved my technique," she added.

"Perhaps while you are here you can show us some of your work," Artanis suggested. "I can take you to the guildhouse where you can purchase the finest paints and brushes."

"I fear that would be too rich for me, lady," Marilla replied. "Perhaps there is a shop that sells such items more cheaply."

"Bah!" Artanis retorted. "You are a member of the Vanyarin embassage, my dear. You can afford anything you wish. I am sure my cousin would have no objections to paying." She gave Ingwion an impish smile.

Ingwion merely raised an eyebrow. "My cousin is correct, Marilla. If you or Tulcafindil require anything, you must tell me or Eccaldamos."

"Thank you, Highness," the elleth said, looking both mortified and pleased at the same time.

"And you, Tulcafindil?" Artanis enquired with a grin. "What interests do you have that will require my good cousin to dig a little deeper into the Vanyarin royal treasury?"

Tulcafindil blushed. "Nothing, lady, that requires much in the way of materials," he answered. "I like writing poetry and ballads. I play the lute."

"Ah, then you must be sure to join us whenever we have a night of poetry recitation, singing and storytelling. Our family usually gathers around for such at least once every few weeks and you and Marilla are welcome to join us. Do you sing or play an instrument, Marilla?"

"I play the flute, lady," the elleth answered.

"Oh, then you and Ingwion must get together, for he, too, plays the flute and has composed several concertos. In fact, I think we could possibly form a group between us and give a little concert for the family some time."

Both assistants looked a bit nonplused at the suggestion, but Ingwion nodded. "I have a concerto that I can easily rewrite for two flutes, a lute and harp."

"Splendid!" Artanis said, clapping her hands in delight. "Now, come and let me show you Ingwë’s Tower and the White Tree that the Valar gifted us. From there I think we can take the Malta Landamallë, which is one of the main avenues. We can stop at one of the inns for lunch...."

****

The tour proved interesting on one level but depressing on another, at least for Ingwion, and he saw that his two young companions seemed equally depressed by the sight of so many houses standing empty and forlorn. If Artanis had any feelings about it, she kept them to herself. Still, he could not help but admire the city’s graceful architecture and the pleasant gardens and squares, taking pride in the fact that his own atar had had a hand in designing the city. The mood of those whom they encountered as they wandered through the city was subdued. There was no sense of hostility, but the faces of the Noldor were guarded, though they greeted their princess politely enough, some of them with obvious warmth and regard for Arafinwë’s youngest child. Artanis seemed to know most of those whom they met and introduced Ingwion and the other two Vanyar, being careful to stress the fact that Ingwion was her cousin visiting for a time and leaving out the fact that he was the head of the Vanyarin embassy. Marilla and Tulcafindil were introduced as Artanis’ friends, implying that she might have met them the last time she visited Vanyamar. The two younger Vanyar looked a bit bemused when Artanis introduced them in that fashion but Ingwion understood what she was doing and approved.

"They seem... dispirited," Ingwion said quietly to his cousin as they parted from one such group of people.

Artanis gave him a shrewd look. "They have every reason to be," she retorted somewhat sharply. "Nothing has been right since Uncle Fëanáro was exiled."

"Do you disapprove of the Valar’s decision?" Ingwion asked, curious as to what his cousin thought of the whole situation.

"Disapprove?" Artanis repeated, looking surprised. "On the contrary. I never liked mine uncle. There is something about him that makes me wary. I have the gift of reading other people’s hearts and his... his is less than pure." She paused, looking troubled. "Three times he accosted me, begging for a tress of my hair. I refused to give him even a single strand. I found him froward to the extreme. He has never forgiven me my refusal and we have been unfriends ever since."

"I am sorry to hear that," Ingwion said sincerely. "It is hard when family cannot live in peace with one another."

She gave him another shrewd look. "You mean your Uncle Ingoldo, don’t you?"

He smiled wanly. "It looks as if we both have trouble with uncles."

She laughed at that, though it was short-lived. "At any rate, nothing has been the same here since Uncle was exiled. Atto and Uncle Ñolofinwë are doing their best to make things right, but it has not been easy." Then she gave herself a shake. "This is much too depressing. Come. Let us take our ease at the Golden Tree tavern. I understand they serve an excellent venison pie."

Ingwion agreed and they made their way to the inn which was in the lower section of the city, overlooking the eastern wall where a park spread out before them.

"It’s called Tarwa Finweva," Artanis explained to Marilla and Tulcafindil as they took a table in the courtyard that looked out onto the park. "Anatar created it. It is a favorite place for picnics and some of the nobles like to go there with their falcons and hunt. If you like, after lunch we can take a stroll."

They all agreed to this idea and then eagerly ate the venison pie that they had ordered on Artanis’ recommendation. It was accompanied with frumenty and a red wine that Ingwion recognized as coming from Nolondur’s vineyard. By mutual consent, they kept their conversation light with Artanis describing a hunting incident involving her brother Findaráto and their cousins, Nelyafinwë and Macalaurë, and one irate twelve-point buck that had the three Vanyar practically falling out of their seats in laughter. Ingwion then regaled them with a story of when he and his brother snuck away from Vanyamar to climb Taniquetil to see the Valar and managed to lose their way and had to be rescued by one of Lord Manwë’s Maiar.

"It was most embarrassing," Ingwion ended with a laugh.

"How old were you?" Artanis asked.

"Oh, I don’t think we were much older than twelve or fourteen at the time. Much too young to be wandering alone."

"However did you manage to sneak away from your minders?" Tulcafindil asked.

Ingwion gave them a smug smirk. "Oh, we managed," was all he said and the others chuckled. "Of course, after that," he amended, "We were watched like hawks. Atto even asked the loan of a Maia from Lord Manwë whose sole duty was to keep us from wandering off the palace grounds. Ingil and I got very creative trying to find ways to elude Nornoros. I think he rather enjoyed it, as we sort of turned it into a game. We were always caught, of course, but Nornoros was very good with us and never got angry. In fact, he sometimes would tell us what we had done wrong and how we should have done it. Atto was not amused when he found out, but Nornoros merely laughed. I think he was rather sad to leave us when it was decided we had grown up enough that he was no longer needed. Ingil and I were most upset at his leaving but eventually we got over it."

"Did you ever see him again?" Marilla asked shyly.

Ingwion shook his head. "Oddly enough, no. I think perhaps it was decided that it would be better if we did not meet again, at least while we were young. I like to think, though, that Nornoros looked in on us from time to time to see how we were faring."

"Strange though that even after you were no longer elflings you never saw him," Artanis said.

Ingwion shrugged. "I have no answer for you, Cousin. In truth, I had forgotten about Nornoros until something you said sparked the memory. Perhaps the next time I visit Lord Manwë I will ask after him. It may be that the Elder King has only been waiting for Ingil or me to ask about Nornoros before letting us see him again. I don’t know."

"Well, I hope you do ask," Artanis said, "and you must let me know what happens. I am surprised, looking back on my own elflinghood, that my parents did not ask for a Maia or three to keep an eye on me as well." She gave them an impish look. "I understand I was a regular terror. Even Findaráto has said so."

Ingwion laughed. "Perhaps they did and every Maia politely refused the assignment."

Artanis stuck her tongue out at him and even Marilla and Tulcafindil laughed.

"Well, if we are finished, why don’t we go to the park?" Artanis said. "We will return to the palace by way of an arbor that was constructed for the sole use of the royal family."

They quickly settled the bill and went across the street to the park entrance, the ubiquitous guards following. It was a pleasant park, and Ingwion smiled at memories of earlier times when he and his siblings had picnicked here with their Noldorin cousins or had gone hawking. Marilla and Tulcafindil both admired the layout of the park and they began to visibly relax, for they had been somewhat tense during the earlier part of the tour.

"The arbor is just this way along the wall," Artanis told them, leading them to a gate. "It’s actually a tunnel constructed of tightly woven trees and was designed so that people from the palace could come to the park without the entire city knowing about it. The other end opens up into one of the lower gardens."

She unlatched the gate and ushered the others in before entering herself, closing the gate. They found themselves in a tunnel filled with green light, dim in comparison to outside but they could see well enough. Tulcafindil gave Artanis a puzzled look. "Do the people of Tirion never use this tunnel?"

She gave them a grin. "The gate at this end is spelled," she explained. "Only one of Anatar’s blood-kin can open it. Not even those who have married into the family, such as my own ammë, can do so."

The two younger Vanyar looked nonplused at that and Ingwion could not help but smile at their bemusement. He turned to his cousin, giving her a courtly bow. "Thank you for the tour, Artanis. I am grateful that you made the time for us."

"The pleasure was mine, Ingwion," Artanis said politely. "If ever you wish to wander through the city again, please let me know and I will accompany you."

Ingwion nodded and then they made their way up the tunnel, remaining silent, each with his own thoughts. When they reached the other end, Ingwion thanked Artanis again and dismissed the guards, steering Marilla and Tulcafindil back to the north wing where they found Eccaldamos sitting at a desk writing something out. It appeared to be a list from what Ingwion could see and he suspected the ellon was making note of supplies and such that were still needed for their offices. Eccaldamos looked up as they entered and stood.

"A pleasant tour?" he asked.

Marilla started to answer but Ingwion shook his head. "My sitting room in fifteen minutes," was all he said, including them all in his gaze, before exiting. He made his way to his own suite of rooms, removing his tunic so he could freshen up a bit, replacing it with one that was more formal in preparation for dinner which would be in a few hours. He was coming out of his bedroom when there was a knock at the sitting room door and went to open it, ushering the three Vanyar in. Without a word he gestured for them to find seats and went to a sideboard to pour some wine for them all before joining them.

Eccaldamos appeared relaxed, if a little bemused, but his assistants were obviously uncomfortable, both wondering if they had done or said something during the tour to upset their lord. The fact that Ingwion was solemn and unsmiling made them think that perhaps that was the case, so they were both surprised when the prince addressed them, his tone conversational. "Tell us what your impressions are of Tirion and her people," he said, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of the wine.

For a moment the two stared at one another as if trying to decide who would speak first. Finally, Tulcafindil licked his lips and said, "The city is very beautiful, but...."

"Go on," Ingwion commanded softly. "I would hear your thoughts. Do not hesitate to speak what you truly feel. I wish to know if we share similar impressions. I do not necessarily trust my own feelings about the city. I have memories of happier times here, but neither one of you have ever been here before, so your impressions, I think, will be more... honest."

Eccaldamos nodded in approval. "Which is why I suggested that they accompany you, Highness," he said. "Unlike you or me, they have no preconceived notions of what to expect."

"So, please, tell us what you think," Ingwion pleaded.

Tulcafindil nodded. "It’s a beautiful city, as I said, or at least, I can see how it was once beautiful, but so many houses stand empty, their gardens neglected. It made me feel... uncomfortable."

"And sad," Marilla interjected. When Ingwion nodded encouragement, she continued. "The people were pleasant enough, I suppose, but there was no joy in their eyes, only... um... sorrow and... er... discontent?" It was obvious to the listeners that she was groping for words that were not normally a part of her vocabulary.

Ingwion nodded but did not say anything, merely letting it be known from his expression that they were still free to speak as they would. Tulcafindil spoke again, looking troubled. "If I might ask, Highness... why did Lady Artanis introduce Marilla and me as old friends of hers? I do not understand...."

Eccaldamos gave Ingwion a startled look. "Did she now?" he asked.

Ingwion gave his secretary a sardonic look. "Not something you expected, was it?"

The ellon merely shook his head. "Lady Artanis is full of surprises. I think I may have underestimated her to some extent. I will not make that mistake again."

Ingwion raised an eyebrow at the implications of those words, but let it go. He turned to Tulcafindil and Marilla, giving them a warm smile. "My cousin was merely ensuring your safety," he said and both assistants looked nonplused at that admission. "By introducing you as her friends, she was letting the people of Tirion know that you were under her protection."

"But are we not protected by law and custom as members of an embassy?" Marilla asked in confusion.

"Yes, we are, but Artanis was making it known that any harm that came to you she would consider a personal affront against her. You do not know my cousin, so you are unaware that when Artanis is affronted no one is safe." He chuckled as he recalled the last time he had seen his fair cousin that way. Even Findaráto had stayed out of her path.

"When we were at the inn," Tulcafindil offered, looking troubled, "I noticed how everyone glared at us while we were eating. Even the tavernkeeper did not appear happy to see us, though as soon as he recognized Lady Artanis, his posture changed."

Ingwion nodded. "I noticed that as well. It is a similar reaction that the few Noldor in Vanyamar receive from some of our own people."

"I don’t understand," Marilla said, looking both confused and worried. "Why would they look upon us with such distrust. We didn’t cause the problem."

"No, but I have no doubt that the Noldor who have been to Vanyamar and have seen how they have been treated by some of us have returned with tales painting the Vanyar in a dim light. These people are hurting and they do not appreciate others exacerbating the situation with their own prejudices."

Eccaldamos nodded. "I suspect you are correct, Highness." Then he turned to his assistants, giving them a hard stare. "That is why you are not to leave these grounds unless either I or Prince Ingwion give you permission and you are accompanied by guards. The situation here is volatile and there is no knowing what might happen. Noldor are attacking Noldor and they will not stop at attacking any Vanyar who happen by."

The two younger Vanyar nodded, looking suitably subdued at the implications of Eccaldamos’ words. Ingwion gave the ellon a look of approval and stood, the others rising as well.

"Marilla, Tulcafindil, I want you to write down every impression — good, bad or indifferent — that you have about Tirion, the people, even the conversation we had among us as we toured the city. Anything and everything, leave no detail out, however insignificant you might think it to be. I want your reports by the fourth hour of Laurelin’s blooming." He indicated with a slight nod of his head that they had his leave to depart.

Marilla and Tulcafindil gave him their obeisance and left. Ingwion motioned for Eccaldamos to remain and resumed his seat. Eccaldamos took the liberty to go to the sideboard and return with the decanter of wine and refreshed their drinks before sitting again. Ingwion’s expression was thoughtful as he took a sip of his wine.

"Artanis approves of Fëanáro’s exile," he said without preamble.

"Indeed?" was the secretary’s only comment.

"I thought you should know," Ingwion said, giving the ellon a measuring look. He had a feeling that there was more to Eccaldamos than met the eye. He suspected that perhaps the ellon was one of Valandur’s ‘eyes and ears’. He didn’t care. Eccaldamos was proving valuable and he appreciated again the ellon’s inclusion into the embassage. "According to my cousin, Fëanáro accosted her —her word by the way — three times asking for a tress of her hair."

Eccaldamos’ expression went completely unreadable to Ingwion. "And what did she do?" he asked softly.

"Refused him," Ingwion answered. "She claims that she can read the hearts of others and that Fëanáro’s heart was less than pure. Her word again," he added when Eccaldamos raised an eyebrow.

"A most interesting elleth," Eccaldamos commented. "I wonder if anyone in the family recognizes her... talent."

Ingwion shrugged. "I have no idea. Until today, I did not know myself, and I’ve known Artanis since she was born. I will have to remember to ask Findaráto about it. He is the closest to her of all the siblings."

"It would be interesting to know if Prince Findaráto is aware of his sister’s gift," Eccaldamos acknowledged. "I have only met his Highness one or two times, but he struck me as being particularly discerning of the hearts and minds and motives of others. It would not surprise me to learn that he, too, has this particular talent."

"Though I think Artanis’ gift may be the stronger," Ingwion said. "Unlike Findaráto, she has an obvious dislike and distrust of Fëanáro. I did not detect this attitude in Findaráto, merely a sense of disgust at his uncle’s attack on Ñolofinwë. In some ways, I think Findaráto may even admire Fëanáro, something that Artanis does not. She actually said that they were unfriends. Not even Findaráto has gone that far."

"Hmmm.... that is something to consider," Eccaldamos said with a frown.

"At any rate," Ingwion said with a sigh, "I wished for you to know this."

"And I appreciate you telling me, Highness," Eccaldamos said with sincerity. "And now, if you will excuse me, I still have things I must do before the dinner hour."

Ingwion nodded as Eccaldamos rose. "I will see you at dinner then," he said and his secretary bowed, exiting the room, leaving Ingwion alone with his thoughts. After a few moments he sighed, rose and went to the desk that overlooked the shade garden, pulling out a sheet of vellum and sharpening a quill. Then he set about writing down his own impressions of the tour while they were fresh in his mind, meaning to include it in his first report to his atar.

****

Laniesambë: Weaving room.

Malta Landamallë: Gold Avenue.

Tarwa Finweva: Finwë Park, literally, ‘the garden/enclosure belonging to Finwë’.

Note: Artanis’ mention of Fëanáro asking for a tress of her hair and her refusal to give him a single strand is taken from ‘The History of Galadriel and Celeborn’, Unfinished Tales.