6: The Opening Session

The opening session of the trade negotiations was more ceremonial than anything. Valandur resigned himself to boredom. Standing with the other Vanyarin delegates, waiting for Finwë and Ingoldo to make an appearance, he felt completely out of place. Certainly he was underdressed in his plain dark blue loremaster’s robe surrounded as he was by the others in their court finery. He really was going to have to hunt up a tailor and order at least one court tunic, wondering just how much he could spend of the delegation’s money on what to him was a frippery and not an absolute necessity.

“You look fine,” Laurelindalë whispered to him. “Stop fidgeting. You’re acting like a bored elfling.”

Valandur grinned. “Well the bored part is right.”

The elleth giggled behind her hand while Sorondur shot them a quelling look. Valandur stuck his tongue out at him and the ellon rolled his eyes while Laurelindalë giggled some more.

“They’re coming,” Nolondilmë said and both Laurelindalë and Valandur settled down.

Valandur craned his neck to see Finwë’s chamberlain come striding down the aisle that had been formed by the delegates with the Vanyar on one side and the Noldor on the other. The chamberlain stopped in the midst of them and, banging with his staff, announced, “Their Majesties, King Finwë and Queen Indis, Their Highnesses, Prince Ingoldo and Princess Tinwetariel.” He then continued up the aisle to the negotiating table, stopping behind the throne where Finwë would sit. In the meanwhile, Finwë entered the chamber, escorting his queen, and behind them were Ingoldo and Tinwetariel. Trailing them were Fëanáro, Findis and Intarion. Fëanáro was scowling and obviously did not wish to be there. Intarion was escorting Findis. Right behind them came an elleth wearing a servant’s tabard carrying a dark-haired elfling who could not have been even a year old. Valandur realized that this must be the recently born Nolofinwë. Coming behind them were several people wearing royal tabards, armed with sheaves of foolscap and carrying portable desks. These, Valandur knew, were the scribes who would record the words of the delegates for future reference. They ranged themselves around the perimeter of the room where they sat in chairs set aside for them, fiddling with inks and quills.

Everyone bowed or curtsied as the royals swept by, taking their seats at the round table. When they were settled, Finwë gestured. “Please join us,” he said graciously and Valandur followed the others to his assigned place, seating himself between Intarion on his left and Nolondilmë on his right. Aldamir was seated on the other side of Intarion next to Ingoldo, acting as his secretary, while Sorondur was seat between Nolondilmë and Laurelindalë. Tinwetariel was seated between her husband and Finwë with Indis on his other side. The Noldorin delegates were ranged around the other half of the table. Valandur saw Findis taking the seat next to Fëanáro, who patently ignored her. She gestured to the elleth holding her baby brother and took him from her, giving him a loving look as she settled him on her lap, bending over to speak to him softly. Fëanáro scowled at them both.

“Greetings to you all,” Finwë addressed them. “I declare these negotiations open and I ask that the Valar look kindly on our endeavors to bring our two clans ever closer together.” He gave Indis a loving look which she returned. Then he resumed his speech. “The purpose of these negotiations is to formulate legal and binding agreements between our two peoples for the mutual benefit of us all. While we live apart, each clan going its own way, still do we live together here under the benevolence of the Valar and the Light of the Trees. It behooves us, therefore, to cooperate with one another in trade and in diplomacy so that our peoples may continue to flourish without one clan taking advantage of the other.”

He paused for a moment before continuing. “While you have had time to introduce yourselves to one another privately, let us take this opportunity to allow the delegates to introduce themselves formally for the record. Should we start with your people, my brother, or with mine?” he asked Ingoldo.

The Vanya made a gracious gesture. “As you are our host, Brother, it would only be fair for your people to introduce themselves first.”

“Very well,” Finwë said. He looked pointedly to his left and Valandur wondered if Fëanáro had been chosen by his atar to head the Noldorin delegation and that was why the prince was looking so unhappy. But Fëanáro just sat there, remaining silent, and it was Findis who rose, much to Valandur’s surprise and delight, holding the baby in the crook of her arm.

“I am Findis Finwiel and I am pleased to meet you all. This is Nolofinwë.” She jiggled him and he giggled, grabbing for her cap of silver lace netted with small emeralds. She deftly took his hands and held them away from her. “He will not be joining us in the negotiations as he has not yet learned the meaning of the word ‘share’.”

There was laughter at that as Findis resumed her seat. Valandur noticed Finwë shaking his head and rolling his eyes, while Indis looked fondly upon her daughter. Tinwetariel sniffed with an obvious air of disdain, while Ingoldo frowned slightly. Intarion gave Valandur a merry look and he grinned back. Then the ellon seated on Findis’ left rose and gave them a bow. “I am Lord Herencáno and I will act as Lady Findis’ secretary…”

One by one, the Noldorin delegates introduced themselves and then it was the turn of the Vanyar. Ingoldo nodded to Aldamir, who stood and gave his name and position, then Intarion rose. “I am Intarion Ingoldion. I am here in an unofficial capacity as an observer and to sit in my atar’s stead when he is not able to attend the meetings.” He then sat and gave a look at Valandur who resisted a sigh as he stood.

“I am Valandur Voronwion, Loremaster and Lambengolmo.”

“And why is a so-called loremaster a part of the Vanyarin delegation?” Fëanáro suddenly asked, shooting him a dark look.

“Like Prince Intarion, I am here merely as an observer and will not be involved in the negotiations themselves.” Valandur forced himself to answer calmly, silently seething at the implied insult the prince had delivered to him.

“My esteemed brother, the Ingaran, appointed Loremaster Valandur to attend these negotiations for reasons of his own,” Ingoldo said, giving Fëanáro a pointed look, though Valandur detected a note of disapproval in Ingoldo’s words at Ingwë’s decision.

Fëanáro shrugged, giving Valandur an insolent sneer. “Then who am I to gainsay the Ingaran?”

“Who indeed?” Finwë replied rhetorically before nodding to Valandur who sat while Nolondilmë stood to give her name.

With the introductions out of the way, Finwë then announced that there would be a short recess before the actual negotiations would begin. He rose and everyone rose with him. Both royal couples then exited from the room through a side door even as servants entered through the main door bearing trays of food and drink which they placed on a long table set against one of the walls. The delegates began mingling and drifting over to the table. Fëanáro did not stay but stalked out of the room, leaving by way of the same door the royals had taken. Findis handed the baby back to the servant who promptly took the now crying child out of the room. Valandur stood by his chair, still feeling angry and embarrassed, wishing he could just leave.

“Do not mind Fëanáro,” Intarion said to him, speaking softly. “He’s an arrogant snob and has no love for the Vanyar, believing that Indis stole his atar from him.” He shrugged. “Anyway, we will not see much of him as he has nothing to do with this.”

“Only because he flat out refused when Atto asked him to head the Noldorin delegation.”

The two ellon turned to see Findis and they gave her polite bows in greeting. “Is that why you have been selected to lead the Noldor, Cousin?” Intarion asked with a smile.

“Oh, I wasn’t Atto’s second choice or even his third,” she said with a self-deprecating grin. “He was ready to appoint one of his courtiers, Lord Herencáno, actually, but Ammë practically had to browbeat him into appointing me. She said it was only fair since Atto won’t be attending any of the meetings and it would look odd if the head of our delegation was not one of the royal family. Atto was ready to order my brother to attend but Fëanáro told him in no uncertain terms that he would have nothing to do with it or with the Vanyar so in the end he had no choice but to appoint me since his other son is only a babe.”

“Well, I, for one, welcome you to the table, Cousin,” Intarion said. “I am sure you will do well, but what of Lord Herencáno? Is he upset that he is not acting as the head of your delegation and has been relegated to be your secretary?”

“Not at all,” Findis replied as the three gravitated toward the refreshments. “In fact, I got the distinct impression that he was rather relieved when Atto told him and it was he who suggested that he act as my secretary. He’s very knowledgeable about our laws and customs.”

As she spoke, Valandur noticed a subtle change in her intonation. When she first joined them her accent was very much Noldorin in flavor, but the longer she spoke the more her accent began shifting toward that of the Vanyarin. He suspected it was an unconscious thing on her part and he idly wondered if she spent more time with her amillë than with her atar and that was why the change in accent was occurring. He thought to ask her about it and then gave himself a mental shake; he really needed to stop thinking like a loremaster all the time.

“How long do you anticipate these negotiations to take?” he asked instead as he handed Findis a goblet of fruit punch and helped himself to his own goblet.

“Hopefully not too long,” Findis said, giving them an impish grin. “The next Feast of Double Mirth is due sometime this yén and I don’t want to miss it.”

Valandur and Intarion both laughed. “And we wouldn’t want that,” Valandur said. “I, too, hope these negotiations do not last too long. My students will forget what I look like.”

“Do you enjoy teaching?” Findis asked.

“Very much so,” Valandur replied. “It was long a dream of mine to become a loremaster. I spent many yéni working as a woodworker to save enough coin to be able to atend the Academy. I was very much older than my fellow classmates.”

“It must have been difficult for you,” Intarion said sympathetically.

Valandur shrugged. “I managed. I had hoped while I was here I would have an opportunity to speak with other lambengolmor but Prince Fëanáro…”

“Oh I heard all about that,” Findis said with an unladylike snort. “Stupid git. He went on about how some Vanya with delusions of being a loremaster importuned him and how he set him straight. Atto said nothing but I could tell Ammë was angry at Fëanáro for his rudeness.” She gave them a sly look. “I recognized you from his description and my brother is wrong. There is nothing delusional about you. You’re haughty as all Vanyar are and think you’re better than the rest of us, but you’re not delusional.”

Valandur forced himself not to smile at the elleth who was putting on her own airs. “And I thank you for that… um… unqualified endorsement.”

Findis smirked and Intarion laughed. Before anyone could make a further comment, the doors opened and Finwë and Ingoldo were entering, escorting their wives. Everyone returned to the table and when they were all seated, Finwë spoke.

“So, let us begin by setting out the parameters of the negotiations and what our particular goals are. To that end I will have Lord Herencáno remind us of the relevant laws pertaining to trade. Lord Herencáno.”

Herencáno rose and bowed to Finwë before addressing them all. “When first we came to these shores….”

****

Once Herencáno finished boring them all with the relevant details of law and custom, Finwë then outlined what he perceived as the goal of the negotiators and the parameters of the trade agreement that was to be hammered out between them with Ingoldo elucidating the wishes of Ingwë, speaking solely as Vanyaran, as to what he hoped would be achieved.

“My royal brother instructed me to say that as Ingaran he hopes that these negotiations will bring our two clans closer together in mutual accord and that we all remember that, whatever our clan affiliation, we are all Eldar and should conduct ourselves accordingly,” Ingoldo stated, then gave them a sly smile. “At the same time, as Vanyaran, my brother urged me to, and I quote, ‘not let those Noldor take advantage of us poor Vanyar’.”

“Poor Vanyar?” Finwë muttered, shaking his head. “I’ll give him ‘poor Vanyar’, the insufferable little git.”

Ingoldo chuckled. “Ingwë figured you’d react that way, Brother.”

Finwë gave him a rueful look. “Ingwë knows me too well, I fear. Well, in the interest of maintaining familial harmony between us, I order you, my daughter, to play nicely with the poor Vanyar.”

“Yes, Atto,” Findis said meekly, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle, and everyone laughed.

Valandur sat back, analyzing the byplay between Finwë and Ingoldo. It seemed obvious to him that the two were on good terms, yet, there was an undercurrent of something else that was barely detectable. It wasn’t distrust or even dislike. It was more a wariness, yet not on Finwë’s part, but Ingoldo’s. He wondered at that. Of what did Ingoldo need to be wary… or of whom? He watched the interaction between the royals as the meeting progressed. Lady Tinwetariel was indeed somewhat haughty in her manner, though she appeared to be genuinely warm and pleasant toward Indis and her daughter. Ingoldo was unfailingly polite, but that was perhaps all that could be said of him and the same was true of Finwë. The King of the Noldor may well have accepted the necessity of these negotiations but it did not necessarily follow that he actually approved of them. Certainly Fëanáro did not, but Valandur dismissed the prince as unimportant in this. Fëanáro’s antipathy was based solely on his hatred of Indis and her children rather than on any real arguments against having these negotiations take place.

He watched Indis. The Noldotári was no one’s fool, which made sense, considering whose sister she was. He was intrigued by her. That wink she gave him at the feast still haunted his thoughts, wondering what was behind it. He watched her interacting with both her husband and brother and, though it was subtly done, he realized that she was the one who was in control of this meeting for all that she barely spoke. Yet, her glances at both Finwë and Ingoldo told him everything he needed to know: Indis, not Finwë, was the power behind it all. Oh, not in everything, he suspected, but certainly it was her will that drove these negotiations. What had Findis said, that her amillë had to practically browbeat her atar to get him to appoint his daughter to lead the Noldorin delegation? That right there told him much of the dynamics between the two of them.

Indis, then. She was the key and it was she against whom Ingoldo was wary. He tried to remember who might be considered the older and was unsure. Not that it truly mattered in this instance. Indis could wield the power that was hers as Noldotári and she was in her own place, whereas Ingoldo was merely the brother of the Ingaran and the title ‘prince’ was a mere courtesy without any real power behind it. In truth, only Ingwë’s two sons were rightfully regarded as princes, for Ingwë had declared them both his heirs, an unusual move on his part and Valandur felt a sense of uneasiness at the thought, though he was unsure why. Dismissing the thought, he concentrated on paying attention to what was being said — and more importantly, not being said — among the delegates.

At the moment, very little of any real import was being said. This was a preliminary meeting on a very polite level, solely to introduce the delegates formally to one another and lay out the parameters by which future meetings would be conducted. Nothing more would be accomplished beyond that.

Finally, Finwë drew the meeting to a close and thanked everyone for their courtesy and patience. “Tomorrow we will meet an hour after we have broken our fast and begin the real work. We bid you all a good day.” He rose and all rose with him, the delegates and scribes giving the royals bows and curtsies as they exited from the room. Most of the Noldor also made their exit, leaving the Vanyar to fend for themselves.

Valandur let out a sigh of relief as he joined the others making their way back to the north wing. “I am so glad that is over with,” he said sincerely to Intarion who was walking beside him. “It’s worse than departmental meetings at the Academy.”

Intarion snickered. “Well, the rest of the meetings should be more interesting, certainly less formal and stiff. I, for one, cannot wait to get out of this court finery and into something more comfortable.”

“Aldamir told me that I could use some of the delegation’s funds to order more appropriate court garb. I fear what I am wearing now is the best I can do at the moment.”

“By my advice, I would not bother,” Intarion said. “Your loremaster robe may be plain and unassuming, but its very plainness stands out among all us popinjays. That, I think, is very important. You lend an air of sobriety and earned wisdom that will be very much needed in the days to come.”

Valandur gave him a doubtful look. “Still, I cannot continue wearing this same garb at every formal court event. I should have at least one other good tunic for that.”

Intarion shrugged. “If you feel you need to, then, by all means, seek out one of the seamstresses or tailors attached to the palace and order a new tunic, but in truth, what people will see will be your robe and what it represents and not what you wear underneath.”

“I just do not wish to be an object of embarrassment for you and the others. Image is as important, if not more so, as fair words and polite manners.”

Intarion nodded. “Then I will have some money set aside for your use.”

“You?” Valandur couldn’t help asking.

Intarion gave him a wry look. “I may only be an observer, but Uncle Ingwë entrusted me with the delegation’s purse. Anything you need that you cannot supply on your own, you are to come to me and if I think it a reasonable expense, then I will give you the money toward it. I deem one new tunic for court an acceptable expense. When you speak to whomever will do your garb, merely tell them to send the bill to me and I will see it paid.”

“Thank you,” Valandur said gratefully. “I promise not to go overboard and buy the most expensive silks and velvets.”

Intarion waved a hand in dismissal. “Choose whatever you feel is appropriate.”

They entered the main dining room for the north wing, following the others. “Ah, I see that a cold repast has been set out for us.” Intarion observed. “Why don’t we enjoy it and speak of other matters? I am interested in the thesis you wrote. Uncle Ingwë couldn’t stop talking about it. I will confess I have little knowledge of such things, but please tell me something of your work while we enjoy our meal. First, though, I truly will go and change. I wish to be comfortable while eating.”

Valandur smiled. “That sounds like a good idea.”

He and Intarion walked out, each heading for his own room. Valandur wasted little time in getting out of his court garb and donning a less restrictive tunic that was old and comfortable before returning to the dining room. Intarion was already there, working his way along the buffet. Valandur joined him and soon they were sitting together and after a little encouragement Valandur told him something of his study of politeness and face. Intarion seemed genuinely interested and even asked one or two discerning questions. It was a pleasant hour spent between them and it continued as they wandered through the lower gardens still discussing the social aspects of language usage and for the first time since joining the delegation, Valandur felt himself relaxing.

****

Vanyaran: King of the Vanyar; Ingwë’s title when he is not speaking as High King of all the Elves.

Noldotári: Queen of the Noldor.