57: The Crowning of Fëanáro

"What will you do, Atto?" Ingwion asked worriedly once he, Ingwë and Indis had returned to the High King’s suite after making their excuses to Fëanáro and the rest of the Noldorin royal family. "You are High King. Will you let that... that spoiled child defy you?"

Ingwë gave his son a wry smile. "That spoiled child, as you call him, is now Noldóran," he said as he poured some wine into goblets, handing them to Ingwion and Indis. "If he will defy the Valar themselves, he will not be guided by me."

"He has always been obstinate and willful," Indis said with disdain. "And Finwë coddled him and denied him nothing."

"True," Ingwë averred with a sigh, sorrow at the thought of his good friend now dead darkening his spirit. "Ñolofinwë should not have been so eager to relinquish the rod of office," he continued. "I wish he had let me handle the situation."

"Ari has hated every moment of this since Finwë left," Indis said in defense of her eldest son. "I think he was relieved to have an excuse to hand over his authority and Fëanáro showing up gave him one."

Ingwë nodded. "I know, and I do not fault him overmuch, but he has made my job that much more difficult."

"So what will you do?" Indis asked.

"What I can," Ingwë answered, "though I fear it will not be enough."

"Findaráto and Artanis were none too pleased with having to kneel before their cousin," Ingwion observed.

"Yet they did," Ingwë said. "However much they may distrust Fëanáro, they are Noldor and he is their rightful king. I do not think either of them is willing to defy their families in this matter, nor do I blame them for not doing so. The Noldor are divided enough as it is without compounding the problem."

"Fëanáro will not meekly return to Formenos just because you tell him to, Brother," Indis said. "What can you hope to accomplish?"

"If nothing else, I can remind him and the Noldor that I am still Ingaran of the Eldar," Ingwë replied, "and that Finwë whom they loved recognized my authority as such. It may give them pause."

There was a moment or two of silence before Ingwion spoke. "Will you be returning with us, Aunt?"

"Not immediately, Ingwion," she replied. "I must first discharge my household, for most of them are Noldor and will have no desire to remove themselves to Vanyamar. It will take me some little time to see to their welfare, for they have served me faithfully and well and I would not abandon them now. Also, I wish to be here to support my sons. I do not trust Fëanáro to treat them well."

"That is my fear also," Ingwë said, "yet they are ellyn grown and can take care of themselves and do not need me to hold their hands. So I will not overstay my welcome but will return to Valmar to consult with Lord Manwë. The Valar will have to deal with Fëanáro themselves if they are minded to do so."

"When will you leave?" Indis asked her brother.

"Directly after the coronation," he answered with a sour grin. "Whether Fëanáro likes it or not, he will have to take an oath of fealty to me even as Finwë and Olwë did."

"That should be fun to see," Ingwion muttered as he took a sip of wine. Ingwë snorted in agreement and shortly thereafter Indis left them to attend to other matters.

****

The coronation took place a week later at the time that would have been Second Mingling had the Trees still bloomed. Fëanáro refused to hold it on Valanya, which would have been the most appropriate day for such a ceremony, and so they held it the day after on Elenya instead.

"And seeing as how we are now left with only the light of the stars to illuminate our way, it is meet that I formally begin my reign as Noldóran on the day that honors them," Fëanáro explained and no one felt the need to object.

The ceremony was a public affair and all the city would attend, or certainly the greater number of its citizens would congregate in the main square fronting the palace. A three-step dais was constructed before the palace doors and a single throne was set thereon. Six crystal lamps on Elf-high silver stands were quickly made by craftsmen and placed on either side of the throne, two lamps on each step. Some, seeing the lamps, their many facets glowing with scintillating light from candles set inside them, muttered darkly of the Silmarils, and not a few wondered if their construction had been deliberate, a reminder of what had been stolen, for surely candelabra would have served just as well.

Sometime in the week of preparation the fogs which had wreathed the city and the surrounding countryside dissipated, much to everyone’s relief. Thus, on the day of the ceremony the skies were clear of clouds and the stars shone down upon them in all their glory, their songs faintly heard. It escaped no one’s notice, however, that the group of stars known as the Valacirca dominated the northern sky, a visible — and for some, an unwelcome — reminder of the presence of the Valar in their lives whether they wished to acknowledge it or not.

The coronation itself was one of simplicity, for, in truth, no one had ever thought to create an appropriate ceremony, never thinking there would be a need for one. Fëanáro closeted himself with Lord Axantur, his atar’s — and now his — Chamberlain and Master of Ceremonies, hammering out the details, assigning roles to various members of the royal family. Ingwë stayed out of it, only pointing out that once Fëanáro was crowned then he must give his fealty to him as High King. Fëanáro had scowled at the reminder but did not voice any complaint. Instead he asked if the oath of fealty could be delayed until the very end of the ceremony.

"I wish to address my people first as Noldóran before relinquishing my authority to you," he said.

"You will not be relinquishing your authority to me, Fëanáro," Ingwë told him with some exasperation. "You will merely be acknowledging my authority as High King of the Eldar. Have you ever known me to abuse my authority? Have you ever known me to say to your atar ‘do this’ or ‘do not do that’? I am High King as it pertains to all of Eldamar, not just to Tirion. Rarely have I intervened in the affairs of the Noldor or the Teleri. As High King my primary role is to stand before the Valar as the ambassador of all our peoples, to represent their interests. How you conduct your affairs is your business unless it directly impacts on the lives of us all to our detriment."

"That may be as it may be," Fëanáro said, "but I would ask of your courtesy to allow me this."

Ingwë hesitated for a moment, wondering what the ellon was about, but could see no reason to deny him his request and so he nodded. "We will have your oath of fealty be the final part of the ceremony then." He noticed a flash of triumph in the ellon’s eyes, one that was quickly suppressed, and he felt a frisson of foreboding assail him, but knew he could not call back his words. He sighed and gave Fëanáro a jaundiced look. "Just don’t make it too long a speech," he muttered and left.

The ceremony began with a paean to Eru sung by a choir of ellith and ellyn dressed in blue and white that led the procession from the palace, following a path laid out that took them down one side of the square and then up the middle to the throne dais. Fëanáro followed directly behind with Nelyafinwë as his heir beside him on his right while Macalaurë was on his left, carrying a sword. His other sons came behind them followed by Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë with their respective families. They were dressed in their most formal garb, the jewels sewn into their tunics and gowns glittering in the light of the lamps and the torches of the spectators so that it seemed to some as if they were surrounded by dark rainbows. Ñolofinwë carried the rod of office and Arafinwë carried the crown on a blue velvet pillow with silver tassels. It had been specially commissioned and was an exact replica of the crown that had been buried with Finwë. Fëanáro had wanted the crown to be of different design, but in this one instance he was overruled. Even his sons had insisted that the new crown should be like the old so that there was a clear sense of continuity between the first and the second Noldóran. Neither Ñolofinwë nor Arafinwë were particularly happy at their assigned roles in the coronation ceremony, but Fëanáro had insisted that as the sons of the previous Noldóran it was their duty to carry the symbols of the king’s office.

"When you hand me the scepter and place the crown upon my head, it will be a sign to all that you accept my authority over you," he had told them and they had had no choice but to agree.

Ingwë and Ingwion came last, walking side-by-side. They were dressed in borrowed tunics, their heads bound by simple coronets, for they had none of their own regalia. Yet, for all the plainness of their dress in comparison to those of the rest of the procession, none could mistake Ingwë for anything but High King. He bore himself with a dignity few could match, his kingship mantling him with an aura of authority nigh as great as that of the Valar. While all there had bowed or curtsied to Fëanáro as he strode down the aisle toward the dais, every knee was bent as Ingwë passed them. He glanced briefly at Ingwion and gave him a slight smile, knowing that Fëanáro would see and resent it.

As they reached the dais, Ingwë and Ingwion moved to their right to join the royal family standing off to the side. Facing them on the other side of the central aisle were Fëanáro’s sons and his one grandson, Telperinquar Curufinwion. Fëanáro stood before his throne with Nelyafinwë and Macalaurë standing on either side of him. Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë stood on the next lower step directly in front of Fëanáro’s two sons.

Noticeably missing were Lady Nerdanel and Queen Indis.

Lord Axantur, acting as Chamberlain, moved to stand before the throne, giving Fëanáro a profound bow before turning to address the spectators. "Today is both a day of sorrow and of joy," he began. "It is a day of sorrow for the necessity of having to come together at all with the death of our most beloved lord and sovereign, King Finwë, who ruled us wisely and well since the days of Cuiviénen. He died as he lived, in the service of our people and we honor his memory."

He paused and silence reigned across the square as all took a moment or two to reflect on the life and death of their king and what that death had cost them as a people. Then he continued.

"Yet it is also a day of joy, for we are gathered here to crown a new king, Fëanáro, Haryon Noldoron. And so I ask you who are Noldolië, do ye take Fëanáro Finwion as your king?"

"Aye!" came the shout from a multitude of voices, save from the High King and his son. Ingwion, looking to where his cousins stood, noticed that neither Findaráto nor Artanis joined in the acclamation, though their brothers did as did the children of Ñolofinwë. He wondered if that boded good or ill for them all. Then he turned his attention back to Lord Axantur.

"Will ye give him your fealty as is meet, obeying him in all things pertaining to the realm?" the Chamberlain asked.

"Aye!" the crowd shouted again, though Ingwion now noticed that only those crowding the front were making the acclamations while most of those who stood further back in the shadows were silent. He suspected that the ones in front were those who had followed Fëanáro and Finwë into exile.

Axantur then turned to face Fëanáro. "And thou, Fëanáro Finwion, wilt thou be a true king to thy people? Wilt thou rule fairly and with respect for all thy subjects, from the least to the greatest? Wilt thou give honor where it is due and protect thy people from all harm to the best of thine abilities?"

"I will," Fëanáro stated loudly and clearly so that all might hear.

Axantur then nodded to Arafinwë who turned to face his half-brother, kneeling before him and holding up the pillow. "Takest thou then the Noldoríë which is thine by right of blood. Bear it well, Fëanáro Finwion, for with it comes the burden of kingship."

Ingwion watched as Fëanáro reached down and lifted the crown of state, holding it before him so all might see. It was intricately wrought of white gold in the shape of a wreath of flowers and leaves, with an emerald embedded in the center of each flower. In the front the leaves formed a frame for a single pigeon-egg-sized sapphire surrounded by four diamonds of the purest water. Fëanáro then placed the crown on his head and Arafinwë rose and stepped back to allow Ñolofinwë to come forward. He knelt before the new king, holding out the rod of office.

"For a time, I held this sceptre in trust for when the Noldóran would return to us from his exile," Ñolofinwë said. "That the king for whom I kept faith is not the king who stands before me today is of little consequence. Takest thou this sceptre, which is thine by right of blood, as a symbol of thine authority to govern thy people, my brother. Mayest thou ever wield it in honor and truth."

Fëanáro reached down and took the rod of office from Ñolofinwë, holding it in the crook of his left arm. Ñolofinwë rose and stood back and Axantur then turned to the people and with a loud voice proclaimed, "Behold your king!"

Glad cries resounded across the square, reverberating so that even those who were elsewhere in the city heard it and knew that they now had a new king and rejoiced. In the square itself the proclamations eventually died as Axantur held up his hand for silence.

"Let the lords of the land come forth to swear fealty to our king," he announced.

This was the most tedious part of the ceremony, however necessary. It had been decided, however, for the sake of brevity, that only Fëanáro’s sons and his two half-brothers would give their fealty singly. The rest of the royal family would offer their fealty as a group. Then those nobles who sat on Fëanáro’s Privy Council would come forward together and give their fealty, symbolically representing all of the nobility. In the days that would follow, these same people, and all the other nobles, would come before Fëanáro singly to give him their fealty. A similar group comprised of the chief masters of all the guilds would follow, representing the rest of the populace.

Nelyafinwë went first, with Fëanáro exchanging the rod of office for the sword with Macalaurë. Ingwë watched with interest as Nelyafinwë placed his hands upon the sword’s hilt before speaking his oath of fealty, his atar’s hand overlaying his. It seemed odd to him for them to have a sword there when previously the one giving his oath would simply have placed his hands into those of the king. It appeared to Ingwë as if the oath was given more to the sword than to the king and he did not like the implications of that. When Nelyafinwë had given his fealty, he in turn took the sceptre from his brother, while Macalaurë gave his oath. Then one by one, Fëanáro’s other sons came forward to give their oaths, with the twins coming together to kneel before their atar, though they spoke their oaths singly.

As the procession of oathgivers continued, stars wield across the heavens in their stately pavane, some of them disappearing below the horizon while new stars rose, but ever did the stars of the Valacirca remain above them, a constant reminder of the presence of the Valar, in spirit if not physically. During this time the choir sang hymns of thanksgiving and praise, as much to entertain the crowd as to honor the new king. Ingwion leaned over to speak quietly to his atar, glad that the voices of the choir would drown him out so none standing near them would overhear their conversation. "Did you notice that they never once asked for the blessing of the Valar?"

Ingwë looked at his son and nodded. "I wonder how the people will feel about that?" he replied. "Most are still loyal to the Valar and not to ask for their blessing I think will be seen as an ill omen."

"I heard a few around me mutter ‘Valar valuvar’, at the proper time," Ingwion said, "but then I heard someone whisper ‘Valar óravar messë’. I don’t think everyone is happy to have Fëanáro as their king."

Ingwë shrugged, for there was nothing to say to that. Finally, the last oath was heard and accepted and the choir finished their final hymn of praise. With a nod from Fëanáro, Axantur bowed to him and turned to the crowd. "It is customary at this time that our king would give his own oath of fealty to our High King, but with the Ingaran’s kind permission, that oath will be given later, for our king would speak to us first words that he deems are meet for us to hear." He then turned and bowed once more before stepping back.

Ingwion leaned over to whisper into Ingwë’s ear. "I wonder what he will say that could not have waited until after he had given his fealty to you?"

"We are about to find out," Ingwë said, then flashed his son a bright smile. "I told him not to take too long."

Ingwion smothered a snort of laughter and then focused his attention to listening to Fëanáro’s speech.

****

Ingaran: High King, an attested title.

Haryon Noldoron: Throne-prince of the Noldor.

Noldolië: The Noldo-folk; cf. Eldalië "the Elven-folk", which is attested.

Noldoríë: Crown of the Noldor [Noldo + ríë ‘crown’].

Valar valuvar: ‘The will of the Valar be done’, an attested phrase.

Valar óravar messë: ‘The Valar have mercy on us’. The phrase órava (o)messë ‘have mercy on us’ is attested [see Vinyar Tengwar 44:12].

Note: Telperinquar Curufinwion will be known as Celebrimbor Curufinion in Beleriand.