44: Further Discussions Among the Valar

They were gathered together in the mansion of Oromë and Vána this time. The regular Valanya audience with Ingwë had been completed and now the Valar were taking their ease as was their custom. Alatar and Arien, Oromë’s and Vána’s Chief Maiar, respectively, were in attendance, though no other Maiar were present.

“Ingwë seemed a little distracted today,” Varda commented as she accepted a goblet of miruvórë from Arien with a smile of thanks.

“I think he is concerned for Ingwion being in Tirion while there is still so much unrest there,” Oromë replied. “I suspect that he is ready to recall him and his embassy.”

“Which might be construed as the High King removing his support of Ñolofinwë,” Manwë said. “No, for many reasons, Ingwë will not order Ingwion to return just yet however worried he might be for his son’s safety and the safety of those who went with him.”

“You would think after all this time that there would be peace,” Yavanna said with a disgusted snort. “Fëanáro is in Formenos and all those who wished were allowed to go with him and Finwë, though now I am thinking that perhaps that was a mistake on our part.”

“And not all who are in sympathy with Fëanáro went with him,” Aulë pointed out with a shake of his head.

“Ñolofinwë exiling Morcocáno for his attack on Herencáno seems to have inflamed the hearts of certain people,” Námo ventured. “Morcocáno was clearly in the wrong, but he has many friends among the younger Eldar and Morcocallo practically disowning his son did not sit well with many of the nobles.”

“It seems that no matter what Ñolofinwë does, he is unable to appease all parties,” Oromë said with a frown. “He is in an untenable position.”

“It does not help that Finwë sided with Morcocáno and rescinded Ñolofinwë’s judgment,” Námo responded. “The fact that we confirmed the judgment apparently did not impress the Noldóran.”

“It was rather amusing to see the expression on Morcocáno’s face when he tried to leave the valley believing that Finwë’s ruling absolved him,” Tulkas said with a booming laugh.

The others smiled indulgently and there were many nods among them.

“I suspect there are political reasons why Finwë did as he did,” Manwë replied. “That we refused to allow Morcocáno to leave Formenos even though Finwë overrode his son’s decree did not make matters any better between us and Finwë.”

“He has never accepted our judgment against Fëanáro,” Varda offered, “so it stands to reason that he would be just as unaccepting of Morcocáno’s sentence.”

“Finwë has yet to learn that when he followed his son to Formenos, he gave up all rights as Noldóran,” Manwë said. “How he governs his people within that valley is his concern, but we rule the border and he needs to understand that.”

“We need to do something to bring peace to our lands again,” Oromë said with a sigh. “This unrest is like a canker and it’s spreading to other parts of Eldamar. Ingwë has every reason to be distracted and upset by what is happening. I have the feeling that, High King of all the Eldar though he be, he is at a loss as to what to do about it.”

“And then there is Ingalaurë to consider as well,” Irmo said.

The others gave him surprised looks. “Explain,” Manwë demanded.

“Ever since he returned from Tirion his dreams have been troubled and did you notice that he has not composed a poem for many weeks now?”

Manwë nodded, looking sad. “Yes, I had noticed and I must say that I have missed his recitations. He truly has a gift for verse and I was sorry to hear that he has stopped seeing Elemmírë as well. He told her that he was too busy helping Ingwë, but I suspect that there is more to it than that. Ingoldo, I fear, is part of the problem, but I have no real proof of that.”

“He has been spending a lot of time with Ingoldo from what Ingwë has said,” commented Varda.

“Ingwë did not seem unduly upset by that though,” Nessa said.

“I think he feels that if Ingoldo is tutoring Ingalaurë in the fine art of government, he will be too occupied to cause trouble elsewhere,” Nienna offered, though her expression was one of disbelief. “I am beginning to believe you were right, Brother,” she added, turning to Námo. “I think it would have been wiser if Ingalaurë had gone to Tirion or if Ingoldo had.”

Námo said nothing to that, only nodding his head once in acknowledgment of his sister’s words. Then, he turned to Irmo. “In what way are his dreams troubled?”

The Lord of Lórien pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “He has the same recurring nightmare,” he explained. “I do not know the details for I never pry too deeply into the Children’s inner thoughts when they are on the Path of Dreams; I only maintain a surface watch.” The others nodded, knowing full well what Irmo meant. “At any rate,” he continued, “part of the nightmare seems to be about being a newborn and then the dream switches to that vision he had of Ingwion falling from a high precipice.”

“What connection is there between the two?” Námo asked.

“I do not know,” Irmo admitted. “As I said, I only maintain a surface watch, or rather, my Maiar do. They have been instructed not to interfere with the Children’s dreams in any way or to probe too deeply into the details. Their task is to maintain a watch on the Path itself, to ensure that no evil spirit makes its way there.”

“Yet, the Children do suffer from nightmares from time to time,” Nienna said.

“An inevitable consequence of being mirroanwi,” Irmo replied. “Their hröar are of Arda and unfortunately Melkor’s taint has corrupted the matter of Arda from which the Children are born. Still, most of them seem able to dismiss their darker dreams readily enough, but Ingalaurë continues to be plagued by his.”

“He is obviously worried about something then,” Manwë said with a slight frown. “I wish I could speak to him alone and help him but he will not come here willingly except in the presence of Ingwë or others and I do not wish to command him to come. That will only make matters worse, I deem.” He paused for a moment, obviously in deep thought and the others remained silent. Then he turned to Irmo. “Continue having your Maiar monitor him and if you can learn more details of his nightmare then perhaps we can see what we can do to help him. I do not wish his bright spirit to be darkened any more than it needs to be.”

“I will have Olóremmárië keep a watch on him,” Irmo said, naming one of his Maiar. “She is one of my better watchers.”

“That is well,” Manwë said, then turned to another matter. “Oromë is correct when he said we must do something to restore our Peace among the Eldar.”

“What do you propose?” Varda asked him.

“I have been thinking that it is time that we intervene somewhat in the affairs of the Children,” Manwë replied. “It has been five years now since Fëanáro was exiled and still our Peace is disturbed. I think it would be wise to see if we cannot attempt a reconciliation among the Princes of the House of Finwë.”

“That may be harder than we think,” Aulë opined. “Fëanáro is stubborn and believes he is in the right.”

“Yet, if we do nothing, this canker, as Oromë puts it, will only grow and worse things may happen,” Yavanna replied. “I, for one, would at least see us try. It may come to nothing, or it may lead to peace between these two brothers. I know Ñolofinwë would welcome such a reconciliation.”

“Finwë will be the hardest to convince, I deem,” Námo said.

“Why do you say that?” Vairë asked him.

He gave her a wry smile. “If Fëanáro is stubborn it is because he comes by it honestly. Finwë is twice as stubborn as his son.”

“We are somewhat overdue for a feast as has been our custom,” Vána said. “Also, if you recall, the last Feast of Double Mirth was supposed to have been celebrated five years ago, but the incident with Fëanáro put all our plans awry. Perhaps we can combine that with the Feast of First Fruits, which we have also neglected these last five years with all that has been happening.”

“You are correct, Vána,” Manwë said. “We have been neglectful of our duty to Atar and in doing so we have caused the Children to be neglectful as well. Perhaps, though, we should just declare this a Feast of Thanksgiving for the First Fruits and leave it at that. The primary goal is to bring reconciliation and healing to the Children.”

“Fëanáro is still under ban, though,” Námo reminded them. “You will have to command him to attend, else I doubt he will come voluntarily.”

“I know, and it grieves me that I must so command him,” Manwë averred. “All others, though, whether in Formenos or Tirion, we will not command but invite. I know Ingwë and the Vanyar will welcome the festival and perhaps we can convince Olwë to at least send a token group so that all the Children may be represented.”

“And now that we have decided on this course of action,” Ulmo said, speaking for the first time, “when should we hold the festival?”

“We shall hold it in the three hundred and fiftieth week,” Manwë answered, “at the mid-year and like the Feast of Double Mirth, it will last for the entire week, one day for each of the other four festivals of Thanksgiving that we have missed plus this year’s feast. Does that meet with your approval?”

There were nods all around. “Let us hope this works,” Tulkas said, “else our efforts at reconciliation will be for naught.”

To that, the others could only agree and many held a slim hope that all would work out for the better, but Manwë noticed that Námo’s expression was unreadable and wondered.

****

Note: The Feast of Double Mirth, which lasted a week, was held every twenty-one years in honor of the arrival of the Eldar in Aman. [See Book of Lost Tales I, ‘The Theft of Melko and the Darkening of Valinor’.]