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In Darkness Bound  by Fiondil

47: The Feast of Thanksgiving Commences

The Vanyar, led by Ingwë and Elindis, were the first to arrive in Valmar, stopping at the northern gate of the city, having passed through Eldamas. Those Elves who lived there joined the throng. Harps and viols, lutes and flutes, hornpipes and drums were carried by many. Ingwë gazed through the closed gate towards the Landamallë Valion where he could see one of Lord Manwë’s Maiar standing. The High King was waiting for a signal from him that the Noldor had arrived at the eastern gate. He had sent messages to Valmar, Tirion and Alqualondë, attempting to coordinate the arrival of all the Eldar so that they would come at the same time, just before First Mingling.

The silver and gold lights of the Trees were blending and the bells of the Mindon Nyellion were falling silent when the Maia looked towards Ingwë with a nod and then turned to face east and nodded again, presumably at Ñolofinwë and the Noldor and perhaps whichever of the Teleri had deigned to accompany them. Ingwë turned to Elemmírë who was standing just behind him.

“Begin,” he ordered softly.

The Elder King’s Chief Bard among the Elves gave him a nod and then began singing the Calalindë. It was immediately taken up by all and Ingwë smiled as he heard voices from the other side of the Avenue join in. As he sang along with the others, he thought about the one who had composed it. Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprising, it had been Lirillo of the People of Ulmo who had written it and taught it to the Elves for the first Feast of Thanksgiving that was held after their arrival. It told of the longing of the Elves for light, of their dread journey through the dark led by the desire of the Two Trees. The song climaxed into a paean of utmost joy as it described the Elves beholding the faces of the Valar and their renewed desire once more to enter Valmar and tread the Valar’s courts.

As the final chords of the song faded away the gates of the city opened of themselves and the Eldar stepped through. Ingwë espied Ñolofinwë coming towards him and smiled, holding out his arms in greeting. The two met just before the gates of the mansion belonging to the Elder King and the Elentári and embraced, giving one another the kisses as between close kin and then the other members of both royal families greeted one another as their people spread out along the Avenue to greet old friends and make new acquaintances.

As the royal families mingled, Ingwë was pleased to see Olwë and Lirillë’s youngest son there. “I did not think any from Alqualondë would come,” he said to Salmar, giving Faniel a fond embrace before allowing Elindis to greet her.

“Well, I would have come regardless for Faniel’s sake,” Salmar said. “I tried to convince my brothers and Olwen to join us, but they decided not to.” He shrugged, giving them an apologetic look. “We Lindar reck little of seasons or times and most of our people give no thought to the cares of the Rulers of Arda.”

Ingwë nodded. “Yes, I know, but I was hoping that this time perhaps.... Well, it matters not. You and Eärwen will represent your people just fine.”

Then there was a shimmering of lights and all went silent as Lord Manwë and Lady Varda, and indeed all the Valar in their majesty, appeared, each before the gates of their own mansions, along with a host of the Maiar. The Eldar all gave their obeisance to the Elder King who smiled upon them with fond benevolence, though it was the Elentári who spoke.

“Welcome, Children, to Valmar on this first day of the festival of Thanksgiving. The great halls of the Valar are open to you. Go and enjoy the feast which has been prepared for you. Abide here in Valmar this day and the next, but on Aldúya come to Ilmarin that we may continue to make merry.”

Then all the gates of the Valar were opened and people began moving to one or the other, greeting the Valar and the Maiar with due reverence, though many, especially among the Noldor were shy in their demeanor. Yet, they were greeted warmly, even by Aulë, and soon the Noldor were as gay and joyful as the Vanyar.

“Atar did not come?” Ñolofinwë asked Ingwë, for had any from Formenos come to Valmar they would have met up with the Vanyar along the way. The members of the royal families were making their way along the Avenue as a group, for they would stop at each of the mansions and pay their respects to the Valar individually before splitting up to go to one hall or another to feast as their fancies took them. Ingwë, Elindis, Ñolofinwë and Anairë would, of course, dine with Lord Manwë and Lady Varda, but the others would scatter and join their friends.

Ingwë shook his head. “The invitation was sent,” he said, giving the younger ellon a sympathetic look as they made their way towards Lord Ulmo’s mansion, “but Finwë declared that so long as his son was forbidden to go to Tirion he would consider himself unkinged and would not meet his people.”

Ñolofinwë sighed, and even Arafinwë looked upset. “Unkinged? He said just that?” the youngest son of Finwë asked.

Ingwë nodded. “Apparently, from what I was told by Lord Manwë who sent no lesser herald than Lord Eönwë to Formenos.”

“But how can he be unkinged?” Arafinwë demanded angrily. “None took the crown from him or forced him to give it up. He went to Formenos willingly, yet gave Ari only the regency and precious little power at that.”

“I can only tell you what I have heard, child,” Ingwë said soothingly. “Finwë has ever been a stubborn ellon.”

“Stubborn fool, more likely,” Indis said with a sneer. “My husband has never been one to listen to reason when it suits his purpose not to. That he spoke as he has does not surprise me. No doubt Fëanáro and his sons took their cue from Finwë and declined the invitation as well.”

“From what I have been told,” Ingwë replied, “Lord Manwë has commanded Fëanáro to come to Ilmarin on Aldúya. He alone of all those residing in Formenos has been enjoined to attend the festival, at least for that day.”

“Hmph. Well we will see how that goes,” Indis said with a snort.

“Until then, let us forget about Fëanáro and concentrate on enjoying ourselves,” Elindis suggested and they all agreed.

By now they had reached Lord Ulmo’s mansion, which was surrounded by a lake. One reached the mansion by way of stepping stones. When they were all assembled in the front courtyard, Lord Ulmo greeted them warmly and spoke for several minutes to them, smiling fondly at little Itarildë who became suddenly shy, refusing to leave her atto’s arms.

“We look forward to her Presentation tomorrow,” Ulmo told Turucáno and Elenwë. “Hopefully she will be better behaved than some of you were when you were presented to us.” He cast a sly look at Ingwion and Findaráto and the others grinned as the two ellyn blushed.

Then they were making their way back to the Landamallë Valion and heading towards the mansion of Oromë and Vána, their next stop. Eventually they would make a circuit through Valmar ending back at Manwë and Varda’s mansion. They had finished paying their respects to Lord Irmo and Lady Estë and were crossing the Hyarmenya Tëa, stopping before the gates of the mansion belonging to Lord Námo and Lady Vairë. Findaráto noticed that while several Elves before them were careful to make their obeisance to the two Valar as they passed their gate, they did not bother to enter. He could see that the gardens fronting the mansion and on either side were set up with pavilions under which were tables laden with food, but as yet, none had entered to eat, though elsewhere the Elves were feasting in the halls of the other Valar.

There was no hesitation on Ingwë’s part as he led everyone inside the gate. Findaráto entered hand-in-hand with Amarië just behind his atar and ammë and noticed with surprise that Lord Námo’s eyes brightened with delight at the sight of them entering his demense. The Maiar who had been standing around looking a little bored also brightened and Findaráto felt sudden pity for them, for their brethren elsewhere were busy serving the Elves who dined at their Masters’ tables while these stood idle. He feared that in spite of their best efforts to make the place inviting, all would go to waste.

Ingwë and Elindis bowed to Lord Námo and Lady Vairë and they spoke quietly for a few minutes among themselves. Then Námo turned to Turucáno and Elenwë and smiled at their elfling daughter now nestled in her ammë’s arms fast asleep.

“A beautiful child,” Námo said.

“Th-thank you, lord,” Turucáno stuttered, somewhat taken aback. “We think so,” he added giving them a foolish grin and then blushing at sounding so besotted of his daughter.

Námo turned to Ingwë and Findaráto was sure there was the light of mischief in his amaranthine eyes. “Do you remember the first elfling born here?”

“Do I?” Ingwë said with a laugh. “I never saw a more besotted bunch of people as you Valar were that day.”

Vairë laughed and even Námo turned a surprising shade of red. “We were indeed besotted and overwhelmed.”

“Except for Oromë, none of us had ever seen an elfling before and certainly not a newborn,” Námo said for the benefit of the younger Elves. “It was a very unique experience to hold that small squirming bundle of life in our hands.”

“It still is, even for us,” Elindis said with a smile. “A newborn never fails to bring us to a halt in awe at the marvelous gift which Eru has given to us in our children.”

They spoke for a few more minutes and then everyone made their obeisance before heading for Lady Nienna’s mansion. For a second, looking back, Findaráto thought he detected a look of wistfulness on the Lord of Mandos’ face and he wondered.

Eventually they made their way back to Manwë and Varda. Once they had made their obeisance and had been greeted by the Elder King and the Elentári, those not planning to dine with them started to scatter, looking for friends and deciding whose mansion they would go back to and join in the feast. Findaráto did not join in the discussion but stood in contemplation, remembering the wistful look on Lord Námo’s face and the Maiar pretending they weren’t upset that none would come and feast with them. When he suddenly felt several eyes on him he realized that someone had asked him a question.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I was thinking. What were you saying?”

It was Ingwion who spoke. “We were wondering where you intended to join the feasting. Your brothers plan to go to Lord Aulë’s and I know you have friends there....”

“I think I will go back to Lord Námo and Lady Vairë,” Findaráto announced, interrupting Ingwion. His brothers, sister, cousins and some of their friends, gathered around him, just stared at him in shock.

“Whyever for?” Artanis demanded.

Findaráto shrugged. “I liked the way the tables were set up,” he answered and before anyone else could comment, he started back down the Landamallë. He only went about ten steps before turning around to grin at the others still standing there in shock. “So, who’s willing to join me?” He held out his hand to Amarië. She hesitated for a moment, staring into her betrothed’s eyes and seeing the love there stepped forward in trust, taking his hand.

“You’re daft!” Angaráto exclaimed. “Come on. Let’s leave our brother to his foolishness.” He turned away and Aicanáro and Artanis joined him along with Findecáno, Aracáno and Írissë. Turucáno and Elenwë had already gone with Faniel, Salmar, and Finwaina to Lord Ulmo’s at Salmar and Faniel’s invitation.

Findaráto did not give those who left a glance, but gave his attention to those still standing there. “We will go alone, if we must,” he said, indicating Amarië with a nod of his chin, “but it would be more fun as a group.”

“Well, I’m game.” Out stepped an ellon with golden hair and a glint of mischief in his grey eyes whom Findaráto vaguely remembered seeing playing with his sister and Írissë when they were elflings. He was part of a group of younger ellyn who had been standing nearby, sons of Noldorin nobility though not necessarily part of the Noldóran’s (and now Ñolofinwë’s) court. The ellon gave Findaráto a short bow. “You will not remember me, Highness,” he said. “I am Laurefindil. I am attached to Prince Turucáno’s retinue.”

“Yes, of course,” Findaráto said. “I believe you used to play with Artanis when you were younger.”

The ellon laughed, looking somewhat embarrassed. “A long time ago.” Then he turned to a dark-haired ellon with a serious mien who was standing next to him, giving him a mischievous grin. “What do you say, Cehtelion? A wonderful lark, wouldn’t you agree?”

Cehtelion gave his friend a sour look. “You and your larks, Laurefindil, will someday get us both into serious trouble.”

Laurefindil merely laughed loudly, clapping his friend on the shoulder, turning to Findaráto. “Well, that’s two.”

Findaráto chuckled. “And we welcome you.” Then he turned to his cousins. “Come, Ingwi, Ingil, and join us. It’s not as if you have never spoken with Lord Námo before.”

“You’re right, Finda,” Ingwion said firmly and stepped forward, dragging Ingalaurë with him. His twin uttered a slight protest, mainly at being dragged, but came readily enough. “So that’s two more,” Ingwion said with a grin.

“If it pleases your Highness, I would like to make it three.” Eccaldamos, who had been a part of Ingwion’s cadre of hangers-on stepped forward with a bow.

Ingwion nodded and gestured for the ellon to join them. Intarion gave Lirulin an enquiring glance and the elleth nodded and together they joined Findaráto. Indil and Tamurilon were not far behind and, surprisingly, Valandur and Findis also came along. Then three other ellyn who introduced themselves as Laurendil, Hallatiro and Elemmacar, all younger sons of the nobility, asked to be allowed to join them and Findaráto welcomed them. Everyone else who was there just shook their heads and drifted away.

Findaráto looked to the others. “Well, let us go.” With that, he and Amarië led them down the Avenue, passing the Mindon Nyellion where the bells were merrily ringing.

“So why do you really want to go to Lord Námo’s mansion?” Ingwion asked.

Findaráto stopped and the others gathered around him and some there were surprised to see a look of compassion on the prince’s face as he addressed Ingwion. “Did you not see how Lord Námo brightened at the sight of your atar and the rest of us entering his gate? Did you not see how the Maiar there were pretending that they were not feeling hurt that none would honor their lord and lady by entering and joining them at the tables? Look about you,” he commanded, gesturing with his free hand, the other still firmly in Amarië’s. “See how people throng to the mansions of all the Valar, even Lady Nienna’s, yet Lord Námo and Lady Vairë’s gardens stand empty.” He paused to give them time to reflect for a moment and then added. “I... I guess I just felt pity for the lord and lady whose tables are no less fine than any others. This is supposed to be a festival of Thanksgiving and I think also it is meant to be a time of reconciliation between us and the Valar. Are not Lord Námo and Lady Vairë Valar? Should they not enjoy our presence any less than the other Valar?”

There was a long pause and then Valandur nodded. “I saw that as well, Findaráto. Your compassion is commendable. Would that we all had such compassion even for those whom we consider our betters. Come, then, let us not keep Lord Námo and Lady Vairë waiting.”

With that, they continued on their way. When they reached the carnelian gate leading into Námo and Vairë’s demesne, they noticed a handful of Elves were already there, both Noldor and Vanyar. By their dress they could tell that they were commoners, and since they were speaking more to Lady Vairë than to Lord Námo, who stood listening to the conversation but did not join in it, they guessed that these might be members of the Weavers’ Guild.

Lord Námo glanced up as Findaráto and the others entered and the ellon thought he saw a look of surprise, quickly suppressed, on the Vala’s face at the sight of them.

“Back so soon?” Námo asked in a bland voice.

Findaráto couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Lady Vairë poke her spouse in the ribs with her elbow. He gave the Valar his obeisance, but now that he was there, he felt some hesitation as to how to answer the Lord of Mandos. ‘I felt sorry for you’ did not seem an appropriate thing to say. However, he was saved from explaining anything when Ingwion spoke up.

“Finda said he liked the way your tables looked,” the ellon said with a straight face.

“So we figured he could have one and the rest of us will share,” Ingalaurë added.

Both Valar’s expressions were inscrutable though one or two of the Maiar had their hands in front of their mouths as if hiding grins.

Findaráto rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “What my cousins mean is that we would be honored to join you in this fine feast that has been laid out, that is....”

“The honor, child,” Námo said with solemn joy, “is ours. Please, all of you be welcome. Perhaps, Findaráto, you would introduce us to your companions whom we have not had the pleasure of meeting.”

Findaráto did just that as everyone found a place to sit, the Maiar scurrying about to see that trenchers and goblets were filled. The weavers, who initially had only intended to make a courtesy call on their patron, Lady Vairë, ended up staying as well. They were shy in the presence of the nobles at first but Findaráto and the others soon put them at their ease. Some few other Elves, still wandering along the Avenue, undecided as to where they would join the feast, spied the party in Lord Námo and Lady Vairë’s gardens and stopped in wonder. Seeing their enjoyment, they gave one another shrugs, hesitating before the gate. One of the Maiar graciously and warmly invited them to join the feasters and soon they were seated among the weavers and a few of the nobles, gladly helping themselves to the fine repast.

Findaráto looked up in surprise at one point to see Lord Námo himself pouring wine into his goblet. The Vala bent down to whisper in his ear. “Thank you,” was all he said before moving on to fill someone else’s goblet. Findaráto stared after him, his expression thoughtful, until Indil asked him a question and he turned to her to respond.

And elsewhere in Valmar all the other Valar smiled as they felt the utter joy that their brother Námo was feeling in being able to serve the Children, even if it were just to pour wine into someone’s goblet, and they rejoiced.

****

Calalindë: Song of Light.

Hyarmenya Tëa: Southern Road, which lies between the mansions of Irmo/Estë and Námo/Vairë.

Note: Laurefindil, of course, is Glorfindel. Cehtelion will someday be known as Ecthelion of the Fountain. Laurendil, Hallatiro and Elemmacar will be known in Beleriand as Glorendil, Haldir and Gilvagor, respectively.





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