118: Making Arrangements

Ingwë burst into the bedroom that had been set aside for Ingwion with Arafinwë and Intarion right behind him. Inside the room, he saw Elindis, Indil and Valandur trying to subdue his son, who was screaming and ranting, his eyes blank with emotion, as if caught in some nightmare.

"Yonya!" he cried, rushing to the side of the bed where Elindis and Indil were. The two moved away so he could reach the still screaming ellon. Ingwë tried to hold him down even as Valandur was doing on the other side. "Ingwion! Ingwion! Shh, be still. It’s all right. It’s all right," he kept murmuring. "Atto is here. Shh."

Ingwion’s screams began to subside, though he still writhed and squirmed, obviously trying to get free. "Whatever you do, don’t let go of him," Ingwë commanded Valandur through gritted teeth. Valandur simply nodded. Ingwion was still struggling, but not as much and his screams were now whimpers. Ingwë suspected his son’s throat was going to be raw for some time.

He bent down and kissed Ingwion’s forehead, stroking his hair with one hand even as he kept hold of the ellon with his own body, pinning him down so Ingwion was unable to free his arm. Valandur, now that the ellon was calmer, was doing the same. Ingwë glanced at him and noticed a couple of bloody scratches on his loremaster’s face.

"Those scratches should be looked at," he said quietly.

Valandur shrugged. "Later," he replied.

"No, now," Arafinwë answered for Ingwë as he stepped to Valandur’s side. "I’ll take over. Indil, take Valandur down to the kitchen and ask for Marilliën. She’ll see to these scratches and then probably put the two of you to work."

"And then feed you," Ingwë added. He and Arafinwë exchanged amused glances. When both his daughter and Valandur hesitated, he nodded. "Go, children. There is naught that either of you can do here and those scratches look deep. Marilliën will look after you."

Indil bit her lips, giving her brother a worried look. Elindis took her daughter into her embrace and gave her a kiss. "Do as your atar says, Daughter," she commanded quietly and while any of their children might feel free to argue with Ingwë, they knew better than to argue with Elindis, so Indil nodded and she and Valandur left. Intarion held back, not really feeling he was a part of the family at this time. Arafinwë gave him a stern look.

"Sit down before you fall down, Intarion," he said. "You’re whiter than these sheets."

Immediately, Elindis went to her nephew and guided him to a chair, speaking softly to him as she found a carafe of water and poured some into a goblet. He gave her a grateful look, for indeed, he was feeling woozy and his injured arm throbbed. Ingwë and Arafinwë, meanwhile, were concentrating on Ingwion, who seemed to be coming out of his state, blinking up at them, puzzlement in his eyes.

"Atto?" he rasped, his throat raw. He swallowed and grimaced with pain and his expression became more fearful.

"Shh. Don’t try to talk," Ingwë said softly. "I have some water for you. If we release you, will you remain quiet?"

It seemed only then that Ingwion realized that he was pinned to the bed and his eyes widened with shock, but he nodded and Ingwë slowly stood to get the water while Arafinwë shifted his position slightly so he could help Ingwion to sit up. Ingwë returned to the bed with a goblet and Ingwion took it gratefully, drinking the water down greedily.

"I can go and have some tea made to help his throat," Elindis suggested, still standing over Intarion, absently brushing a hand through his hair as if he were an elfling in need of comfort. Intarion looked both pleased and embarrassed by it.

Arafinwë gave her a smile. "If I know Marilliën, she’s already got the water boiling. Someone will be up soon enough with tea."

"And who is Marilliën?" Elindis asked, looking puzzled.

Ingwë chuckled. "A very bossy Maia," he replied. "Keep away from the kitchen, my love, unless you want to be spending your time dishing out butter."

Elindis raised an eyebrow at her husband but did not otherwise comment. She came over to stand beside him and gave her first-born a concerned look. "Ingwi, are you all right now?"

"I... I don’t know," Ingwion replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at his atar, looking puzzled. "Atto, where’s Ingil? Shouldn’t he be here?"

Ingwë exchanged glances with Elindis and Arafinwë then turned to his son, speaking gently. "Ingil is in another room, yonya."

"Why? He should be here with me," Ingwion retorted, sounding almost petulant.

"We’ll talk about it later," Ingwë said. "For now...."

He was interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. Intarion, being the closest, rose and went to open it, revealing Indil and Valandur standing there with the ellon carrying a loaded tray. "We have some tea and toast for Ingwi," Indil said somewhat hesitantly, not sure of her welcome.

Elindis and Ingwë smiled at their daughter and Elindis came and took the tray from Valandur. "That was very thoughtful of you, my dears," she said.

Indil shrugged. "It wasn’t our idea. Marilliën said we should bring it." She gave her atar a grimace. "She’s very bossy. I thought Maiar were supposed to be humble."

Both Ingwë and Arafinwë snorted in amusement. "Marilliën is a law unto herself," Arafinwë said as he rose from the bed so Elindis could bring the tray to Ingwion. Elindis placed the tray across Ingwion’s lap and poured the tea while Ingwion took up a piece of toast and a knife and started spreading blackberry jam onto the bread.

Ingwë turned to his loremaster. "Valandur?"

"Marilliën applied some salve and said the scratches won’t fester," he assured them. Ingwë nodded and, moving away from the bed, gestured for both Arafinwë and Valandur to join him.

"He doesn’t seem to remember about Ingil," Arafinwë said worriedly, whispering.

"I know," Ingwë replied. "I hesitate to remind him just yet. It might set him off." He straightened and spoke more loudly. "Well, if everything is fine here I need to make arrangements for our return to Vanyamar. Arafinwë, Valandur, perhaps you will come with me. Intarion, would you mind staying and keeping Ingwion company? I’m sure he would appreciate another ellon around."

Intarion nodded. "I’m not feeling up to moving much anyway," he said.

"Good." Ingwë then went over to give his wife and daughter kisses and smiled down at his son. "Behave yourself, yonya, and don’t give your ammë any grief," he said and Ingwion nodded.

Turning back to the door, he gestured for Arafinwë and Valandur to precede him. "What’s our first stop?" Valandur asked.

"I want to check on Ingoldo first...."

"INGOLDO! I’ll kill him!"

Ingwë turned just in time to see Ingwion, still clutching the knife, push the tray away, spilling the tea and crockery to the floor as he leapt to his feet. Both Elindis and Indil screamed in surprise, backing away. Ingwion, standing on the bed, ignored them, his expression one of absolute fury.

"I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him!" he kept screaming and then he leapt off the bed and rushed toward the door, waving the knife around.

"Watch the knife!" Arafinwë called out as he and Valandur attempted to stop the ellon. Arafinwë ducked under Ingwion’s guard to tackle him even as Valandur grabbed Ingwion’s wrist and twisted it enough to force the ellon to let go of the knife. He fell, still screaming invectives, wrestling with both Arafinwë and Valandur.

"Ingwion! Ingwion! Stop it!" Ingwë commanded as he stepped forward, his initial shock at seeing his beloved son in such a state fading. But Ingwion was beyond hearing him and finally Arafinwë pulled back an arm and slugged him in the jaw, knocking him out.

Ingwë stared at the Noldóran. "Did you have to hit him so hard?" he asked as he knelt at Ingwion’s head and stroked his son’s hair.

"Sorry," Arafinwë said as he collapsed across Ingwion’s body. "It was the only thing I could think to do." He gave his uncle a sardonic smile. "Well, at least we know what not to say in front of him."

Ingwë rolled his eyes. "Let’s get him cleaned up and back into bed."

"That will have to wait," Elindis said. "The bedclothes are wet and need to be changed."

"We can just put him in another bed," Valandur suggested reasonably and that is what they did. When Ingwion was settled, there was another discussion between Ingwë, Arafinwë and Valandur.

"I don’t think he should be left alone and I don’t mean with any of us," Ingwë said. "We barely were able to restrain him in his fury and I cannot have guards on him all the time. Most of them are watching the prisoners."

"What do you suggest?" Valandur asked.

"I’m open to any suggestions," Ingwë answered.

"One of the Maiar could watch him," Arafinwë said. "Assuming that the Valar permit it."

Ingwë nodded. "I had thought of that, but I hesitate to bring them into it."

Arafinwë gave him a jaundiced look. "In case you haven’t noticed, Uncle, we have a kitchen full of Maiar and who knows where else they may be lurking. I have no doubt the Valar already consider themselves ‘brought in’ as you put it."

Ingwë gave him a chagrined look. "I guess I didn’t want to acknowledge that," he confessed.

Arafinwë gave him a sympathetic look. "Well it won’t hurt to ask, will it?"

"No, it wouldn’t," Ingwë replied with a sigh.

Even as he said this, there was an overpowering scent of balsam and then a Maia was standing before them wearing the eagle emblem of the Elder King. "Greetings. I am Manveru of the People of Manwë," the Maia introduced himself. "I have been sent by my lord to guard your son, Ingwë of the Vanyar."

The three Elves exchanged bemused looks. "Ask and you will receive," the Noldo quipped and both Ingwë and Valandur rolled their eyes while Manveru just smiled knowingly. Ingwë turned to the Maia and gave him a slight bow. "I thank Lord Manwë for his solicitude."

Manveru nodded. "Your son will never be alone," he said. "One of us will always be near him. My lord is as concerned for his well-being as you are and I have been commanded to tell you that Lord Irmo will look in on Ingwion as well when his duties permit. At the moment he and the other Valar are... um... occupied."

"Thank you, again," Ingwë said. "Now, I really need to go and see to things. I sent for wagons to transport the prisoners and... and Ingil. I’m wondering if I’m going to need to do something similar for Ingwion. I don’t trust him in this state."

"He will be well," Manveru promised. "I or one of my brethren will see to it."

Ingwë nodded and, gesturing to Arafinwë and Valandur to follow him, the three Elves exited the room, leaving the Maia behind to keep watch over Ingwion.

****

They went to the cellars where Ingoldo and his men were being held in a storage room that had been hastily emptied out. Ingoldo had protested being locked up in the cellars, but Ingwë had not been in the mood to listen, too angry and grieving, his son’s death too raw. A part of him had wished that Ingwion had killed Ingoldo when he first attacked him, but it was a small, distant, and he had to admit to himself, petty part of him. Whatever his faults, Ingoldo was not a killer, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t responsible for Ingalaurë’s death.

Now he stood before the door that was guarded by three of his own men and nodded to one of them to release the bolt that had been quickly put into place since the storeroom door had no lock. The guard released the bolt and opened the door. Ingwë stood there, refusing to go in.

"Come out, Ingoldo, and if you behave yourself, I will see you housed in better quarters until we are ready to return to Vanyamar."

For a moment there was only the sound of breathing and then shuffling as Ingoldo emerged from the lightless room, blinking owlishly in the torchlight that illuminated the cellar. Ingwë gave his brother a cold stare. The ellon was the worse for wear, his face still purple and yellow with bruises gotten when Ingwion attacked him, his tunic torn and grimed with dirt and blood.

"And if you’re extra good, I might even let you bathe," Ingwë added as he gestured for the guard to close the door and another took Ingoldo by the arm to guide him. Ingoldo snarled at the ellon and started to pull away, but the expression on Ingwë’s face stopped him and he allowed himself to be led upstairs. Ingwë brought them into a small library where there was a writing desk. It had been moved into the center of the room with a chair in front of it. Into this chair Ingoldo was commanded to sit while Ingwë sat behind the desk with Arafinwë and Valandur standing on either side of him.

"Am I on trial?" Ingoldo asked, giving them a sneer.

"Not yet," Ingwë answered equably. "This is just a chat between you and me."

Ingoldo’s eyes flicked to Arafinwë and Valandur and then to the two guards standing on either side of him. He then looked again at Ingwë, giving him a sour grin. "The room’s a bit overcrowded for a chat between the two of us," he said.

Ingwë just shrugged. "The only reason you are still alive, Brother, is that neither my wife nor my daughter suffered any physical harm during their captivity, which is more than I can say for myself, but that is neither here nor there. And I am not clear in my mind as to whether you are guilty of murder where my son is concerned. That still needs to be determined."

Ingoldo paled at those words, biting his lips nervously. "I swear, Ingwë, I never...."

Ingwë held up a hand. "As I said, that has yet to be determined. I sincerely hope for all our sakes that you are at least innocent of that but don’t think you will get away without some kind of punishment. Your actions against me, not only as your brother, but as your king, necessitate some type of punishment. What you do from hereon out will determine the severity of it."

"What do you mean?" Ingoldo asked belligerently.

"I want your solemn oath that you will neither attempt to escape nor cause any further trouble," Ingwë replied coldly. "Give me your parole and I will allow you limited freedom or you may rejoin your comrades in the cellar and when we return to Vanyamar I will put you in the deepest, darkest hole I can find until I am ready to hear your case."

For a long moment Ingoldo simply stared at his brother, gauging his sincerity. Ingwë sat still as stone waiting to hear what his brother would say. Neither Arafinwë nor Valandur so much as blinked, their expressions unreadable to Ingoldo. Finally, licking his lips, he nodded. "You have my oath, Brother," he said.

Even as he spoke, the room filled with the mingled scent of lavender and lovage and before the astonished eyes of the Elves, Eönwë, Herald of Manwë, stood before them, a large blue book in his hand that was open to a particular page onto which he was writing.

Every Elf gasped at the sight. Both Ingwë and Ingoldo stood in shock while the others were either rooted to the spot or found themselves taking a step or three back before they realized what they were doing and forced themselves to stand still. Eönwë ignored them all as he continued writing.

"M-my lord?" Ingwë finally said in a somewhat strangled voice. "Is... is there something we can do for you?"

Eönwë looked up and gave him a sympathetic smile. "First, on behalf of my Lord Manwë and the other Valar, I wish to extend to you our sympathy for your loss. While a day will come when Ingalaurë will rejoin you, the time of separation will be painful and the Elder King wishes you to know that he and the other Valar are here for you."

Ingwë swallowed and nodded mutely, not trusting himself to speak for the lump that was suddenly in his throat. Eönwë took a moment before speaking again. "I am more than the Elder King’s Herald, though," he said. "I am also Oathkeeper of the Valar." He lifted the book slightly as if to call attention to it, and indeed, every Elf stared at it as if it might suddenly come alive. "Every oath ever uttered by anyone is recorded in this book," the Maia continued, looking pointedly at Ingoldo, "just as I have recorded your oath, Ingoldo of the Vanyar."

Ingoldo paled and Eönwë nodded, his expression becoming more stern. "I normally do not bother with showing myself when I record a person’s oath, but I decided to make an exception in this case, Ingoldo, to remind you that if you plan on reneging on your oath just given to your brother, others are aware of it and will call you to an accounting if you do not honor it." He paused for a moment to let the implication of his words sink in. If anything, Ingoldo went even paler than before. Eönwë nodded. "I’m glad to see we understand one another, Child."

Ingoldo, to his credit, only nodded, though Ingwë suspected his brother wanted to do nothing more than faint on the spot. He was feeling rather weak-kneed himself, but he gathered his wits and addressed the Maia. "You must be very busy with all that recording, lord," he said with a faint twist of amusement to his lips.

Eönwë’s mien lightened slightly and the smile he gave them was warmer. "Less busy than you might think, Ingwë. I only record the oaths as Eru Ilúvatar directs me." He gave Ingoldo another significant glance. "The ones He deems important."

Ingwë found himself swallowing nervously for some reason, mentally reviewing every oath he could remember uttering and wondering which ones were deemed ‘important’. He glanced to his left where Arafinwë was standing and was secretly amused by the ellon’s worried expression, suspecting that the Noldo was taking a mental inventory of his own oaths. Eönwë’s smile became more genuine, as if he knew what effect his words were having on the Elves and was amused by their reactions. Then he turned his attention to Ingwë.

"I have been commanded by my lord to inform you that the wagons you requested are arriving, along with a suitable escort and additional horses for those in need of them. He also suggests you not allow Ingwion to see Ingoldo at this time. He might become violent again."

Ingwë nodded, his expression troubled. "I know and his reactions worry me. What do you suggest?"

"Send the prisoners, including Ingoldo, ahead, and we will ride back later," Arafinwë answered before Eönwë could speak.

"That is a sound plan," the Maia said. "Besides, I understand Marilliën has gone to a great deal of trouble preparing a meal for you. She would be very disappointed if you did not remain long enough to enjoy it."

"And an unhappy Marilliën is not something I care to contemplate," Arafinwë said with a convincing shudder. Ingwë snorted in amusement and Valandur raised an eyebrow in disbelief, not having known the formidable Maia long enough to form an opinion either way.

"I think what you suggest is an admirable plan," Ingwë said. "As soon as the wagons arrive, we will have the prisoners sent back to Vanyamar while we will remain for a meal, though I doubt any of us will do justice to it." Then he paused, his expression turning more sorrowful. "I still don’t know what to do about Ingil," he said, not looking at anyone, as if he were thinking out loud. "What are we supposed to do with... with his hröa?"

Eönwë gave him a sympathetic look. "There is a smaller wagon that can be used to transport your son," he said gently. "Return him to Vanyamar and let his people have the chance to farewell him. After that, I think my Lord Manwë may have a suggestion or two."

Ingwë nodded. "Then that is what we will do." He turned to Valandur. "I know you would rather remain here with us, but would you go back with the prisoners and make arrangements with Sorontor for Ingil’s viewing? I think we can set something up in the throne room."

Valandur gave him a nod and a sympathetic smile. "It would be my honor, Ingwë. Do not concern yourself. I will see to everything."

"Thank you," Ingwë said sincerely. Then he turned to Ingoldo. "I am sending you back with Valandur. You will be allowed to ride rather than be placed in a wagon with the other prisoners, but you will have your hands tied and another will lead the horse. Once home, you will be taken to your apartments where you will be allowed every comfort but your freedom. Do not even think to cause trouble or attempt to escape. You will not enjoy the consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

Ingoldo simply nodded and Ingwë looked to the guards. "Take him away and see that he’s had a chance to clean himself up before you leave."

The two guards saluted and one of them took Ingoldo’s arm and led him away. Ingwë closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his temples. "Valandur, when you get to Vanyamar, seek out the family of the dead ellon and tell them what has happened. I do not know what arrangements they will want to make, but let it be known to them that I will see to it that... that Lemenyon’s hröa will be treated with honor. I do not know who he was or what sort of person he was or why he was willing to do Ingoldo’s bidding, but he is in Mandos now and has been judged by one who is greater than I and I will not arrogate to myself the right of judgment in this case. Also, let them know that I hold them blameless and will not seek retribution against them."

Valandur nodded. "I will take care of it, Ingwë," he promised. "You just concentrate on your family. When you return to Vanyamar, I will have everything arranged."

"Thank you," Ingwë said sincerely. "Best be on your way then." Valandur nodded, gave Ingwë and Arafinwë hugs and left. Ingwë then addressed the Maia. "Lord Eönwë, please convey my heartfelt thanks to the Elder King and the other Valar for their sympathy and solicitude. I and my family are grateful for all that they have done for us."

Eönwë bowed and without another word faded from their view, the scent of lavender mixed with lovage lingering in the air. Ingwë looked at Arafinwë, the two now alone in the room, and gave the younger ellon a wry look. "Well, let’s go see what Marilliën has cooked for us."

Arafinwë snorted and with a nod of his head, followed Ingwë out.