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In the High King's Secret Service  by Fiondil

12: A Day at the Beach

When Valandur returned to the palace he asked to see Aldamir and Intarion and informed them both of his intention of spending Valanya with Minalcar and his family.

“You will have to make my excuses to Prince Ingoldo and anyone else who enquires. Whatever activities King Finwë has planned for us, I will not be there and frankly, I really don’t care if that meets with anyone’s approval or not. As I am constantly being reminded by all sides, I am here on sufferance and have no real role in these negotiations, so I might as well take advantage of that fact and visit with old friends whom I have not seen in many yéni. They at least appreciate my company.”

Without giving either ellon a chance to respond, he walked out of the sitting room where they had met and returned to his own bedroom, ignoring the pounding on the door, refusing to answer it. He sat on his balcony with a bottle of Aramalina, watching the ever changing play of Light as the Trees slowly waxed and waned, reminiscing on earlier times when starlight was all they knew and his parents’ friend had watched over him and his sisters as they made the arduous march across Endórë.

Only when Laurelin’s Light was beginning to fade did he leave the balcony and ready himself for the day’s outing, leaving the north wing without encountering anyone and slipping out of the palace, walking across the plaza to the central fountain where he sat on the lip and waited. Even though First Mingling was still at least an hour or so away, the plaza was already filling up with people dressed in their Valanya finery, many of them carrying large hampers filled with food, no doubt planning to spend the day at Finwë Park.

Valandur greeted people with nods as they sought a place to stand, smiling at the elflings as they fidgeted, no doubt wondering why they always had to do such boring stuff as stand around singing when there was a whole park just waiting for them to explore. He chuckled at that thought. By the time the custom of singing paeans of praise to the Valar on Valanya had developed, he had long ceased to be a fidgeting elfling and actually looked forward to joining the rest of the city in singing the hymns. He suspected that those of the earlier generations did so with more fervor than those generations that had been born in Valinor. Certainly some of his friends complained how their children seem to have no appreciation for why they bothered to sing such praises once a week. He idly wondered if later generations would even cease to bother with the custom, leaving it only to those who remembered the Great Migration to carry on the tradition.

It was a sobering thought, but he refused to allow it to dampen his spirit, for as the Light shifted toward silver-gold and Laurelin ceased to blossom completely, he felt a rising sense of excitement, standing and looking about for Minalcar, for the plaza was filling rapidly. He spied the ellon escorting an elleth with Eldacáno escorting another. Nambarauto was also there along with another much younger ellon and two ellith and he suspected these might be Eldacáno’s other children.

He waved as they came nearer and Minalcar smiled, holding out his arms to greet him. “And how long have you been hanging about the fountain waiting for us like an impatient elfling?” he asked as the two kissed each other’s cheeks.

“I was the first one here,” Valandur admitted laughingly. “I am afraid I upset certain people when I informed them that whatever plans they had for me today were not to be realized, so I’ve been avoiding everyone.”

Minalcar frowned. “Please do not get into trouble on our account. I would not wish that for you.”

“I really don’t care and you should not blame yourself if I do,” Valandur said firmly. “Ingwë, I think, really had no idea what trouble he would cause having me join the delegation. I am barely tolerated, for I have no concrete purpose or duties, other than to help Aldamir collate the notes on the day’s meeting and that is punishment for daring to speak out at the negotiations one time with a concern that I felt needed to be addressed.” He shrugged. “Now enough. Why do you not introduce me to your family and then we will sing our praises to the Valar with everyone else.”

Minalcar still looked troubled, but complied readily enough with Valandur’s request and introduced the rest of the family: his wife, Helinillë, and Eldacáno’s wife, Almiel. Their younger son was Laiqualassë, who was just past his majority, having seen about seven Valian years. The daughters were Mirillindë and Marillindë, or Miri and Mari, as they were generally called. Mirillindë was perhaps a few yéni old and Valandur could see why Aldarion was enamored of her, but Marillindë had not yet seen an entire Valian year.

Then, the royal family stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the plaza and the singing began. Valandur put aside all his worries and concerns and sang with great feeling, grateful as he always was for the Valar bringing them away from the dangers that beset Endórë — for he well remembered the terror of the Dark Rider that even now sometimes haunted his dreams — to live in peace in the Light of the Trees. He noticed Prince Ingoldo and the Lady Tinwetariel standing beside Finwë and Indis while Intarion was standing between Findis and Fëanáro. He could not see Aldamir or the others, but assumed they were somewhere in the crowd.

Once the singing was done and the king blessed them, people began filing out of the plaza. Minalcar suggested they wait a bit to let the crowd disperse. “We rent horses from a nearby stable,” Minalcar explained to Valandur. “Do you wish to retrieve your own horse?”

“Nay, I will rent one as well. I do not wish to encounter anyone I know who may be at the royal stables.”

Minalcar gave him a troubled look, but Valandur ignored him, turning to speak to Nambarauto and his siblings, enquiring of Laiqualassë if he was following his brother and father in becoming a coppersmith — he wasn’t, for he was more interested in learning the art of jewel-making and was apprenticed to a jewelsmith — and asking Mari what her favorite games were — hide-and-find came at the top of the list. Merillindë acknowledged that she was a journeyman potter when he asked.

“Which is how she and Aldarion met,” Nambarauto explained to Valandur. “She’s one of his apprentices. I think once she receives her mastership, he will ask her to marry him. Until then, their relationship has been low-key for obvious reasons.”

Valandur gave the elleth a sympathetic smile. “I hope it works out for you both.”  

By now, the crowds had thinned enough for them to leave the plaza and Minalcar led them to the stable where Valandur quickly negotiated for the loan of a horse. Soon they were on their way down Hwalin Mallë and through Finwë Park, passing through the gates which led onto the plains fronting the Calacirya. They headed down the cleft that led to the Sea and Valandur noted with interest the way the colors began to dim, becoming less vibrant as they moved further away from the Light of the Trees. When Almiel enquired, he admitted he had never returned to the shore to look upon the stars.

“Once we came onto the plains, I had no desire to return,” he told her, eschewing to explain how the memories of the dread Dark Rider and the other dangers they had encountered while living under starlight still haunted his dreams, especially those concerning the loss of his playmate, wondering what ill fate had befallen him.

Almiel admitted that she and Eldacáno had befriended some of the Teleri during the time when the Noldor had helped built Alqualondë, long after many of the Vanyar had left Tirion. “Perhaps while you are here, we can take you there to meet our friends.”

“I would like that. I have often wondered what their city looks like. I was surprised when Olwë did not bring his people into Eldamar proper but elected to live on its fringes, barely within sight of the Light.”

“The Teleri have always loved the Sea and did not wish to desert it entirely,” Minalcar answered. “Many of them are Ulmonduri, even as some of the Noldor are Aulenduri and the Vanyar are Manwenduri.”

Valandur nodded and little Mari shyly asked him if he was a Manwendur. He smiled and shook his head. “I have not had the privilege of being asked by Lord Manwë to enter his service. Perhaps someday he will.”

The further down the Calacirya they went the darker the sky became until, passing between the high cliffs that marked the original pass over which the Elves had entered Valinor, Valandur looked up with a gasp, beholding the stars for the first time in more yéni than he cared to remember. By mutual consent the others stopped, allowing him time to reacquaint himself with the stars.

After a few minutes, Minalcar said, “Come, let us go further on. There is a spot where we like to picnic and you can see the stars in all their glory. Here at the beginning of the pass, the Light still hinders our view. We’ll leave the horses here to graze as there is little for them to eat further on.”

Valandur tore his gaze from the glory above him and nodded, alighting from his horse and helping to carry their packs, following the others as they wended their way northward. Across from them, blocking a good portion of the eastern horizon rose the dark cliffs of Tol Eressëa where none now dwelt, though Minalcar assured Valandur that the Teleri often stopped at the island to replenish their water and other supplies as their fishing boats plied the southern waters. They reached the small cove where they meant to picnic, rounding a headland that blocked the Light streaming out onto the Sea. Tiny glints of sapphires, rubies, emeralds and diamonds strewn about the sand sparkled under starlight, mirroring the glints of color shining above them.

“I sometimes wish we had not been so flagrant in strewing these gems about,” Minalcar said with a smile as he helped Helinillë spread the blanket on the sand, after the children had dutifully raked it to remove the gemstones, leaving a smooth surface on which to sit. They gathered the stones and threw them elsewhere, laughing with delight. “It makes picnicking a chore sometimes.”

Valandur laughed and Nambarauto invited him for a walk along the shore. The younger ellon had already removed his shoes and was rolling up his leggings. “We will not go far,” he assured the loremaster and in minutes the two of them were walking barefoot in the surf. Mari was already busy building a sand castle under the watchful eye of Laiqualassë who sat nearby playing a recorder, while Miri danced, slipping in and out of the surf in a graceful pavane in time to the music. Minalcar, Eldacáno and their respective wives sat on the blanket quietly conversing.

Valandur could not stop looking up at the stars. “I’d forgotten how beautiful they are,” he said softly.

“Atto and Ammë felt it was important that we not forget them, which is why we usually spend Valanya here rather than in Tirion. As you can see, we have the entire place to ourselves. I especially like to wander up and down the coast. I find the starlight soothing in a way that the Light of the Trees can never be.”

Valandur merely nodded and the two fell into companionable silence. Nambarauto stooped down occasionally to retrieve a shell or a water-smoothed stone brought up by the Sea and they would stop to examine the item for a moment before putting it back and continuing on. They only went as far as the end of the cove where it curved around another headland and it was only as they were heading back to the others that Nambarauto spoke.

“How do you feel about the trade negotiation?” he asked quietly.

 “I was going to ask you the same question,” Valandur replied with a smile. “I overheard you and your atar and anatar discussing the trade negotiations and was intrigued by your views. But to answer your question, I think ultimately it is a good thing. Whether it will be effective in bringing our two clans closer remains to be seen. I was disturbed by the fact that none of the guilds were invited to join the negotiations. They are being conducted at the highest level with very little input from those who will most likely be the most affected by whatever is decided between us.”

“I know Atto is suspicious of the negotiations. He does not seem to have any faith that those involved will have our best interests at heart, that they will negotiate out of expediency rather than out of fairness.”

“And Minalcar? What does he think?”

Nambarauto shrugged. “I am not sure. He left the business to Atto to pursue other interests. I think he would like to see closer relations between us, between us all, Noldor, Vanyar and Teleri. He thinks that our insistence on remaining separate will ultimately prove fatal to us.”

“Fatal? How?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think even Anatto knows. I think he just sees that if we continue as we have, the issues that lie between us will become more and more divisive until we cannot truly say that we are a single people. He foresees a great danger in that attitude.”

Valandur mulled over the ellon’s words as they continued strolling along the beach. Nambarauto suddenly pointed to the southwest. “Look! There’s Menelmacar rising.”

Valandur looked and saw the Warrior of the Sky rising majestically from behind the mountains. Already he was more than two-thirds visible and the sight brought Valandur to a halt and he had to remember to breathe. Nambarauto remained politely silent, allowing him the space he needed.

“I had forgotten how magnificent he is,” Valandur whispered.

Nambarauto nodded. “It is magnificent and I always thrill at the sight, more so than any other astinwessë, though I could not tell you why.”

Valandur merely nodded and then they were resuming their walk and were soon back with the others. Valandur stopped to admire the sandcastle Mari had built, exclaiming over her architectural skills. “I think you would be an asset to the stonemasons’ guild,” he said, causing the child to blush with pleasure while the grown-ups chuckled.

“Come and eat,” Helinillë said and no one had to be told twice.

There wasn’t enough room for them all on the blanket so Valandur and Nambarauto sat on a nearby flat rock, accepting goblets of wine from Eldacáno and trenchers from Almiel. Valandur happily began eating the fruit-and-custard pie, roasted chicken and hard-boiled eggs which appeared to be the main dishes of the picnic, along with a crusty bread and several kinds of hard and soft cheese. Dessert was gingerbread, almond biscuits and several kinds of fruit, including grapes and apples.

There was little talking while everyone ate and what conversation there was centered on the doings of the family and their neighbors: the progress Laiqualassë was making in his studies in gem-making, Mari’s upcoming gymnastics competition, Almiel and Eldacáno deciding if they wished to bring forth another child, rumors that a neighbor who seemed to spend much of his spare time in the company of a particular elleth might finally ask for her hand in marriage.

“Just as soon as he finds the courage to speak to Suriel’s atar,” Eldacáno said with a wicked smile and the others laughed, apparently well acquainted with the ellon.

Valandur listened avidly, enjoying the company, reminded of his own family and how they gathered around the dining table and had similar conversations. Suddenly, he felt homesick and wished he could just get up and leave and return to Vanyamar. He shook his head, as if to clear it of such thoughts, silently castigating himself for being such a fool. He wasn’t an elfling, after all, and it wasn’t as if he was never going to see his family again. The negotiations would not last for very much longer and then he could return to Vanyamar and pick up his life again. That thought comforted him and when Eldacáno asked him how the Vanyar normally celebrated Valanya, he answered readily enough.

“We do much as you do, gathering before the palace and singing praises, and then afterwards, we have picnics and games. Many of us wander along the slopes of Taniquetil and not a few of the nobles have private estates to which they retire away from the city. My family often goes to visit friends who own a farm and spend the day with them.”

As Almiel started to make a comment, Nambarauto looked around in confusion. “Where is that singing coming from?”

Now everyone went still, and then Miri pointed out to sea. “Look! A swan ship!” she cried and immediately, she and her sister leaped up and began running toward the water. Everyone else quickly followed them and now Valandur could clearly hear someone singing, though the words were still indistinct. He gasped in amazement as he stood on the shore with the others and watched as a ship rounded the headland to the north, pale and shimmering under starlight. He could see oars dipping into the water as the ship glided as silently as the swan for which it had been named and an ellon was standing at the prow, plucking a harp. It was he who was singing, the song seeming to be a hymn of praise to Lord Ulmo.

Everyone stood silently, mesmerized by the sight as the ship made its slow way toward them and Valandur could now see that the ellon singing was richly dressed in an ankle-length white silk tunic slit on the sides to the waist and belted with pearls. The sleeves were long and flowing and the collar was high. His silver-white hair was crowned with a mithril coronet studded with pearls and emeralds.

As the ship came abreast of them, Helinillë gasped. “Look!” she whispered. “That’s the royal standard hanging from the main mast.”

Before any could comment, though, the ellon ceased his song and the rowers brought the ship to a halt. It was still some distance from the shore but they could see the sailors well enough. Someone dropped an anchor and the ellon who had been singing came to the side and hailed them, waving, and everyone waved back.

“What news of Tirion?” he shouted.

“”For that you must come ashore, my lord,” Minalcar returned, “for I refuse to shout myself hoarse trading tales.”

The ellon laughed merrily and to the utter astonishment of the onlookers he leaped over the rail without even bothering to remove any of his clothes and they watched him wading to the shore.

“But my lord, you have ruined your lovely tunic,” Helinillë exclaimed in dismay.

The ellon laughed as he reached them, apparently unconcerned with his dripping appearance. “I assure you, mistress, that neither I nor my tunic mind. But come, who are you? I see that you have one of the Minyai with you as well. What brings you to these shores?”

“May we have your name as well, my lord?” Minalcar asked politely.

“Ah, I am quite forgetting my manners, am I not?” the ellon said without rancor. “I am Lindarion, haryon to the Lindaran.” He gave them a short bow.

“Your Highness! Forgive us. We were unaware…” Minalcar started to apologize while everyone else stared at the prince in awe, but Lindarion merely waved a hand in dismissal.

“Tut, tut. No need to apologize. Now, I’ve told you my name, perhaps you could return the courtesy.”

After a moment of hesitation, Minalcar shyly introduced himself and his family, the ellith giving Lindarion curtsies while the ellyn gave him bows. When he would have introduced Valandur, the Vanya took the initiative.

“I am Valandur Voronwion,” he said with a bow. “Minalcar and I are old friends from Before.”

Lindarion raised an eyebrow, clearly understanding what Valandur meant, for whenever anyone spoke of ‘Before’ it always meant ‘Before we came to Valinor’.

“Old friends, indeed,” was Lindarion’s only comment. “I was not expecting to see anyone here,” he continued. “Do you come here often?”

“Almost every Valanya,” Minalcar replied. “We were just finishing our picnic and were about to return to the city.”

Lindarion nodded. “I have never been to Tirion, myself.”

“We have friends in Alqualondë whom we visit on occasion, though Valandur has yet to see your city,” Eldacáno said.

“Indeed? Then you must come and visit.”

“I would like that,” Valandur said. “Perhaps I can plan to come in a week or so when I…”

“But nay, you should come now,” Lindarion insisted. “It is, after all, the reason I am here.”

Valandur was not the only one to gawk at the prince. “Wh-what do you mean?” Valandur asked, feeling suddenly faint.

Lindarion smiled. “I was told to come and bring you back to Alqualondë with me.”

“T-told?” was all Valandur could say.

Now the Teler’s expression softened to one of sympathy. “Yes, my friend. Lord Ulmo specifically sent me here to fetch you.”

Valandur nearly reeled and Nambarauto, standing next to him, grabbed his elbow to steady him. “But… but… I can’t!” Valandur protested. “I must return to Tirion. If I am not back in time for the next trade session I will be in more trouble than I care to contemplate. I am already on shaky ground with Prince Ingoldo.”

“If Lord Ulmo has asked for you, Valandur, it isn’t wise to refuse him,” Minalcar said gravely.

“But I can’t,” Valandur said, distraught, starting to back away. “I can’t.”

Lindarion stepped forward and took Valandur in his embrace. “Shh… do not be afraid, my friend. I assure you all will be well. Come, let us hence. The sooner you speak with Lord Ulmo, the sooner you will be back in Tirion.”

“What of us?” Minalcar asked. “Should we wait for you?”

“No, do not wait, for I cannot guarantee when I will return your friend to you,” Lindarion replied, pulling a signet ring from his finger and giving it to Minalcar. “Give this to King Finwë and explain to him what has happened.”

“As if the Noldóran will deign to see me,” Minalcar sneered.

“Ask to speak with Aldamir or Prince Intarion,” Valandur said, pulling his own ring from a finger. “Show them this ring. They will recognize it.”

Minalcar nodded, accepting Valandur’s ring and stowing it along with Lindarion’s into a pouch. “Not the way I thought our time together would go,” he said with a lopsided grin. Valandur could only sigh and Minalcar embraced him. “It will be well.”

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I know in my heart that it will not be well with me when I return to Tirion.” He turned to Lindarion, becoming angry. “If Lord Ulmo is so bent on speaking to me, why could he not do so here instead of making me come with you? Has he no idea what trouble his summons will cause me, or doesn’t he care?”

“Careful, yonya,” Minalcar cautioned. “The Lord of Waters is not to be trifled with.”

“Lord Ulmo does nothing on a whim,” Lindarion said. “If he wishes you to come to Alqualondë to speak with him, he must have a reason. And, whatever you may think to the contrary, it will be well. Not even your Prince Ingoldo can blame you for being derelict in your duties when it is one of the Valar who has summoned you.”

“This makes no sense,” Valandur protested. “Why would Lord Ulmo wish to speak with me? I don’t even know him.”

“For the answer to that, you will have to come with me,” Lindarion said in a reasonable tone, taking Valandur by an elbow. “Come. We need to be away. Can you swim?” Valandur shook his head. “Then I will assist you. The water is not too deep here. Worry not for your clothes. We have dry clothes aboard and we will see that your own clothes are properly dried.” He turned to the others. “I am glad to have met you all. May the Valar bless your days.”

Everyone bowed or curtsied and Minalcar assured Valandur that he would let Aldamir know what had happened. “And when you get back, you must tell us all about it.”

Then, Lindarion was leading him into the water, calmly speaking to him, telling him not to fear as the water reached ever higher. Soon, he could no longer feel the bottom and Lindarion expertly rolled him on his back and told him to remain still. “Let me do the work. We are not far from the ship,” he instructed the Vanya and shortly thereafter Valandur found himself being lifted aboard the ship, two of the sailors hoisting him easily onto the deck while a third threw an absorbent towel around his shoulders. Lindarion then climbed aboard and with a soft word commanded the sailors to man the oars and set sail. As the crew complied and the ship began to slowly turn back to the north, Valandur stood at the rail and watched Minalcar and his family waving at them.

He didn’t have the strength to wave back. Lindarion standing beside him, clapped him on the shoulder.

“It will be well,” he whispered, but Valandur’s heart sank and a sense of dread rose within him even as the ship sailed around the headland and his friends were lost to his sight.

****

Endórë: Middle-earth.

Helinillë: (Qenya) Violet.

Almiel: Daughter of blessedness.

Laiqualassë: Green-leaf, the Quenya form of Legolas.

Mirillindë: Shining-jewel-song.

Marillindë: Crystal-song.

Aulenduri: Servants of Aulë; the singular Aulendur is attested and designates an individual or families who actually serve Aulë and receive instruction from him. Manwenduri ‘Servants of Manwë’ and Ulmonduri ‘Servants of Ulmo’ are based on this concept but applied to the Vanyar and the Teleri, respectively.

Menelmacar: ‘Swordsman of the Sky’, Orion.

Astinwessë: ‘With-stars’, the literal meaning of our word ‘constellation’. In Qenya, Tolkien gives us letinwessë [le ‘(together) with’ + tinwë ‘star’ + -sse ‘locative suffix’; Parma Eldalamberon 12]. I have updated the word to LOTR-style Quenya, where le has become as. Tinwë, according to Tolkien, was the word (like Sindarin gil) used to denote the stars in the heavens ‘in place of the older and more elevated el, elen- stem’ [Vinyar Tengwar 42].

Note: Nambarauto is not in error when speaking of Menelmacar rising in the west. In the Silmarillion, the Moon and Sun are first seen rising from the west, which is the direction all stars would rise if the planet were rotating in a clockwise direction, instead of in the counterclockwise direction it actually rotates. When later the Valar have the Sun and Moon rising in the east, it must be assumed that the planet’s rotation was changed to reflect this event; that is, if you accept a more scientific explanation, rather than a mythological explanation, for these celestial phenomena.

Minyai: Old plural for the First Clan, later known as the Vanyar. The singular would be Minya.

Haryon: Throne-prince, heir to the Crown.

Lindaran: King of the Lindar, the name by which the Teleri call themselves; Teleri is a Noldorin term. Cf. the attested titles Ingaran and Noldóran.

Yonya: My son, contracted from yondonya.





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