16: Return to Tirion

Valandur was grateful for Calandil’s presence, though he was unsure how the ellon had come to be with them. He had no standing with Finwë’s court and Ingoldo would not care whose otorno he might be. All the way up the Calacirya, neither Intarion nor Aldamir spoke a word or even looked in his direction and when Valandur tried to strike up a conversation with Calandil, the ellon merely shook his head, putting a finger to his lips, leaving Valandur with nothing to do but think and his thoughts were mixed.

On the one hand, he was glad to be back, but on the other, he wished he was in Alqualondë where his welcome was assured and for a time he lost himself in memory, remembering the canal boat rides under the stars. As the towers of Tirion came into view, however, Valandur focused on the present and he looked upon the city with a critical eye, seeing it in a different light.

In many ways, Tirion seemed the same, but in others, it did not. It took Valandur a few minutes as they made their way through Finwë Park and up Hwarin Mallë to the palace to realize just what was different, and it wasn’t the city so much as it was him. He realized that, in the short time he was away, he had changed. Oh, not in any dramatic way, or at least he didn’t think so, but in small ways. His worldview had widened and he now saw how straitened his life had been, how narrow his thinking. Tirion and Vanyamar were not all there was to Eldamar. Alqualondë was as much a part of their world as Valmar and to forget about the former was almost as dangerous as to forget about the latter and those who dwelt there.

The Noldor, at least, kept some semblance of communication with Olwë and his people, but it was limited. And the Vanyar had no communication with the Teleri whatsoever, being content to deal with them through the Noldor and that was just plain wrong. He could see that now. Somehow, the Vanyar needed to make contact with the Teleri directly and not through the Noldor, but he was at a loss as to how that could be effected. Well, it was something he would lay out for Ingwë to deal with. It was, after all, his job as High King.

Valandur put aside his ruminations as they reached the palace. They dismounted and grooms came and took the horses. Silently, Intarion and Aldamir led the way inside. Calandil remained by Valandur’s side, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. They wended their way to the north wing and Intarion brought them to the main sitting room used by the Vanyar as a common meeting room. Valandur swallowed nervously as he saw Ingoldo sitting with Tinwetariel at a table while Sorondur, Laurelindalë and Nolondilmë stood behind them. Intarion joined his parents at the table while Aldamir stood beside Nolondilmë. Valandur and Calandil remained standing.

“So, you finally deigned to return to us,” Ingoldo said in a cold voice.

“It was not my choice to leave,” Valandur replied quietly, “and I returned as soon as I was able.”

“Yes, so we were told,” Ingoldo retorted with a sneer. “Lord Ulmo wished to speak with you and for some reason he could not be bothered to speak with you at the cove where you were picnicking with your friends, and I should tell you that King Finwë was not best pleased to learn that you had refused his kind invitation to join him and his family in their own picnic.”

“King Finwë does not know me,” Valandur shot back hotly. “I doubt he even remembers my name and refers to me as ‘that Loremaster of yours’ or some such.”

“Nevertheless…”

“Nevertheless, I regret any inconvenience my absence caused. I was promised that I would be returned by Eärenya at the latest, but unfortunately a sea storm hit before I could leave and King Olwë could not spare a ship.”

“Did you really speak with the Lord of Waters?” Intarion asked before his atar could respond and Valandur could see the doubt clouding the prince’s eyes.

“Yes, I did.”

“But why? I mean why you and what did you speak on?”

Valandur shrugged. “Perhaps because I was convenient, since I was already there at that cove. As to what we spoke on, well, it was mostly private though he did give me a message to deliver to King Ingwë.”

“And what message would that be and why couldn’t he simply speak with my brother himself?” Ingoldo demanded.

“The message is for the High King’s ears only,” Valandur said stiffly. “As for the whys and wherefores, I do not know. I only know what Lord Ulmo told me.”

Silence hung between them. Valandur stole a glance at Calandil who gave him a smile. Ingoldo and Tinwetariel were frowning while Intarion looked thoughtful. What the others were thinking was anyone’s guess for their expressions were shuttered and Valandur thought they were waiting to see how they should respond.

“And that, of course, assumes we believe you,” Ingoldo finally said.

“Why would I lie?” Valandur asked in dismay. “In my wildest dreams I could never imagine seeing one of the swan ships and being summoned to Alqualondë to meet with Lord Ulmo.”

“And you actually believed the Teleri when they gave the reason for their presence?” Tinwetariel asked, looking unconvinced.

“When the person speaking is haryon to the Lindaran, yes,” Valandur shot back, becoming angry. There were several raised eyebrows at that.

“So you say,” Ingoldo returned coldly.

Valandur went still, trying to gauge the mood of his interrogators. Those standing were unreadable to him and he dismissed them from his mind. It was Ingoldo, more than anyone else, whom he had to convince. Intarion appeared more thoughtful and he suspected the prince was willing to give him the benefit of a doubt, but in the end Ingoldo was the only one who mattered.

“I know that King Olwë sent a message to King Finwë explaining why I was in Alqualondë without leave of either him or you,” he finally said.

“Yes,” Ingoldo said, “and if it weren’t for that I would have you on your way back to Vanyamar this very hour. As it is, Olwë insisted that you were not to be punished for your absence. Well, as Olwë is not here he will not know. Until I say otherwise, you are not to leave the palace grounds. You will not even leave this wing except to accompany us to our meetings where you will sit with the scribes rather than at the negotiating table. You will then transcribe the notes yourself. Aldamir has other duties. And if you have any spare time left over, you may spend it here in this room quietly reading. On Valanya, you will not join your friends,” he gave Calandil a cold glance, “nor us in any pleasure activities or feasting, but will remain here. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” Valandur replied, forcing himself to remain calm. So much for Lord Ulmo’s promise that all would be well and he would not suffer for his absence, he thought sourly.

“Then say farewell to your friend, who insisted on accompanying my son and Aldamir to meet you, though he has no business here.”

“In that you are mistaken,” Calandil retorted mildly. “I am here as Valandur’s friend, which he apparently needs since he will find none among you.”

Valandur saw Intarion blush and the other younger members of the delegation looking uneasy.

“At any rate,” Calandil continued, “you may prevent Valandur from leaving the palace but you cannot prevent me or anyone else from seeing him.”

“Indeed?” Ingoldo sneered. “And how, pray tell, will you be able to do so if I leave orders that no visitors are to be allowed?”

“We would just have to see, wouldn’t we?” Calandil returned and Valandur wondered at his friend’s demeanor. Calandil was not a Noldorin lord, had no standing with the Noldorin court, yet he spoke to Ingoldo almost as an equal and that was very puzzling. Ingoldo, for his part, merely raised an eyebrow as he looked upon the Noldo standing confidently before him.

“Regardless,” Ingoldo finally said, “it’s time you got back to work, Loremaster.”

It was a dismissal. Calandil clapped a hand on Valandur’s shoulder. “Come see me out,” he said and without giving the Vanyarin prince the courtesy of a bow, he turned, pulling Valandur with him. They walked through the halls to the central foyer in silence. Valandur felt at a loss. He could understand Ingoldo’s attitude and was not unduly surprised by it, but Calandil’s attitude made no sense; he was acting completely out of character.

The object of his thoughts looked at him, giving him a sly smile, even as they reached the foyer. “You must not be too worried,” Calandil said. “All will be well.”

Valandur stopped, scowling at his friend. “That is what everyone from Lord Ulmo on down keeps saying, but it’s obviously not true, as you well know. I am effectively a… a… I don’t even have a word for it! All I know is that, Lord Ulmo’s promises to the contrary, I might as well be sent back to Vanyamar because I am obviously unwelcome here in Tirion.”

“Only by your own people,” Calandil responded gravely. “You do have friends here, Valandur, who care for your well-being. Do not despair. All is not hopeless. And the word you are looking for is ‘prisoner’, which you are not, I assure you.”

Valandur closed his eyes, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “All the time I was in Alqualondë I wished only to be back here, but now that I am, I wish I’d never left Olwë’s city. There, at least, I was welcomed.” He felt Calandil take him in his embrace and hug him, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“It will be well,” the Noldo whispered before releasing him, fishing something out of a pouch on his belt. “Here is your ring back that you gave to Minalcar. I will tell him you are well. Now I must leave, but I will return. I promise. Neither Ingoldo nor anyone else can prevent me from doing so.”

Valandur gave him a dubious look but before he could question his friend, Calandil walked out and was soon lost to his view. Valandur sighed and turned back toward the north wing but stopped, not wishing to return just yet. Defying Ingoldo’s orders, he wended his way down another hall that led out into one of the gardens. He wandered through it, not really seeing its beauty, too busy thinking, wondering what he would do. He was half tempted to simply return to Vanyamar, but that way played into Ingoldo’s hands. He was even tempted to return to Alqualondë but he had no idea what he would do there other than to be a burden to the royal family.

He was sitting on a bench, idly watching one of the numerous fountains playing, deep in thought, when Aldamir found him.

“You did not return after seeing your friend out,” he said without preamble. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Why? Did you think I would run away?” Valandur retorted angrily. “Believe me, I wish I had.” He stood up and attempted to leave.

Aldamir grabbed him by the arm to stay him. “Please, Valandur…”

“Please, what?” Valandur snarled, pulling himself away, glaring at him. “Please, what? Please be a good little prisoner and return to your prison? Please don’t anger Ingoldo any more than he is or we’ll all suffer for it? Please, what, Aldamir? Do you think I planned this? Do you think I purposely stayed away? All the time I was there I was wishing I were here, helping you with the transcriptions or playing draughts with Laurelindalë or whatever, but now that I’m back and see that none of you believe me when I say I was summoned by Lord Ulmo himself, I wish I had never returned. Ingoldo…”

“Prince Ingoldo,” Aldamir insisted, looking dismayed.

“Ingoldo can order me about as he pleases,” Valandur continued, ignoring the interruption, “but don’t think I will ever forgive any of you for disbelieving me.” With that, he brushed past Aldamir, refusing to listen to his pleading, and made his way back to the palace, returning to his own room where he found his bags neatly placed at the foot of the bed. He took a few minutes to unpack the tunics and breeches that Lindarion had insisted he take with him. Once he was done, he lay on his bed and stared up at the satin tester. Somewhere in the distance, bells rang and he knew that soon a meal would be set out, but he was not hungry and when Sorondur knocked on his door inviting him to join them for the meal, he refused even to answer.

He felt weary, not of body, but of soul, his fëa heavy, his thoughts full of dismay and anger: anger at Lord Ulmo for summoning him, anger at the storm for delaying him (and he had to wonder at that), anger at those he had thought his friends, especially Intarion, disbelieving him. That last hurt the worst, their disbelief. He did not care what Ingoldo thought of him, but he had hoped the others would know he would not purposely desert them.

He sighed and closed his eyes to better call to mind Alqualondë and all that he had done and seen there. Somewhere along the way, he fell asleep.

****

Valandur woke, puzzled as to why his eyes were closed, and by the quality of the light, realized that he must have slept through most of the previous day. He went through his ablutions and made his way to the dining hall attached to the wing where he found the others already eating. No one gave him a greeting, though he saw Intarion looking at him sorrowfully. He ignored them all, sitting at the end of the table, keeping his eyes on his plate. As it was Valanya, the others were apparently making plans to spend the day in idle pursuits and in a short while they all got up to leave. Intarion stopped by him as if he wished to say something but Valandur refused to look up and a moment later he was left alone.

Once he finished eating, he retired to the upstairs sitting room where he spent a few hours transcribing the notes from the last session held two days earlier on Aldúya. Apparently no session had been held on Menelya, though there was nothing in the notes to indicate why. The notes were dull and uninteresting and it appeared that the two parties had once again come to an impasse. This time it appeared that the sticking point was something to do with revenues from the Southern Fiefdoms. Valandur had never been there but knew that all three kings owned substantial property in that region, the farms generating income for their respective treasuries as well as producing necessary foodstuffs for the populace.

He didn’t really care. Once he had finished transcribing the notes, he idled away his time wandering about, spending most of the day in one of the gardens with his book, though he probably didn’t read more than a page or two, his thoughts elsewhere. He was tempted to leave the palace altogether and go find Calandil or Minalcar, but decided not to risk it. He wouldn’t have put it past Ingoldo to leave instructions with the gate guards that he, Valandur, was not to leave the palace grounds.

Thus, the day was dreary and joyless and when the others returned from whatever they had been doing all day, he returned to his room, not interested in listening to them laughingly tell about their day.

On Elenya, he followed everyone to the chamber where the negotiations were taking place, joining the scribes sitting on benches against the wall, refusing to look at anyone, especially Findis.

“I see your wayward loremaster has returned,” one of the Noldor said as everyone took their seats after the delegates had given one another their greetings.

“Yes,” Ingoldo replied shortly.

“Why does he sit with the scribes?” Herencáno asked.

“Because I wish him to,” came Ingoldo’s reply in a tone that none dared to contradict.

“Well, welcome back, Loremaster Valandur,” Findis said, sounding friendly, but Valandur refused to look up or respond to the princess’s greeting. After an awkward moment or two of silence, Findis spoke again. “Well, shall we get started?”

The session was as dull as dust to Valandur who sat in stony silence only half paying attention to what was being said around him. When the session broke up after only a couple of hours due to the fact that they still could not resolve certain issues involving the Southern Fiefdoms, Valandur remained behind to collect the notes from the scribes.

“Not much to transcribe,” one of them said ruefully.

Valandur shrugged, not really caring. He turned to leave only to find that his way was blocked by Findis and Herencáno, both of them giving him concerned looks.

“Valandur, what happened?” Findis asked. “Why do you refuse to look at anyone or speak to them?”

“Nothing happened, princess,” Valandur replied stiffly. “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do.”

Findis suddenly grabbed the sheaves of foolscap from his hands and flung them away, her expression one of anger. “Forget them,” she snarled. “They are not important. You are. Herencáno, bring him.”

Then she turned and stalked away. Valandur just stood there gaping after her while Herencáno looked amused. Valandur started to gather up the papers scattered all about but Herencáno took his elbow and pulled him away. “Leave them. As the princess says, they are not important. You can retrieve them later. Come. I would not tarry. Findis in this mood is not to be trifled with. In that, she is definitely her atar’s daughter.”

Valandur allowed himself to be led away, wondering how Ingoldo would react, but finding he no longer had the strength to care. They made their way to the east wing which housed the royal family, following Findis as she came upon a door and flung it open. Inside, Valandur recognized the same sitting room where he had had his conversation with the princess. Herencáno released his hold on Valandur, closed the door, and then without waiting for orders or permission, crossed to a sideboard and began pouring some wine into goblets, handing one to Findis who stood glaring at Valandur who glared back. Herencáno handed him a goblet and gave him a wink which Findis did not see.

“Sit,” Findis ordered and the two ellyn found seats while Findis still remained standing. “Now, I want you to tell me what happened,” she said, still obviously angry. “Tell me everything, from the moment you left the palace to the moment you returned.”

Valandur sighed, taking a sip of the wine before speaking. “I joined friends of mine on a picnic to the beach when we spied a swan ship heading our way….”

****

For the most part, neither Findis nor Herencáno interrupted except to ask clarifying questions. When he came to describe his audience with Lord Ulmo, he spoke in generalities, stating that some things that had been spoken between him and the Lord of Waters were private to him and he would not discuss them with anyone. Herencáno seemed to take it in good grace but Findis obviously wanted more details and started pestering him for them, but Herencáno gave her a hard look.

“We must respect Valandur’s privacy, Findis,” he admonished her, “just as we would respect your own.”

Findis had the grace to blush and apologize and asked Valandur to continue his narrative. It was quickly told and he was describing his audience with Ingoldo and what had come of that when there came a knock to the door. Before Findis could call out, the door opened and Prince Fëanáro was there, sneering at them.

“Have you forgotten, Sister, that you and Prince Intarion were to go riding after your meeting? I little like being asked to act as your page. Ah, I see the so-called loremaster has returned. What you see in him, I have no idea, but since you’re only part Noldorin, I suppose one must make allowances.”

And with that stunningly rude comment, the heir to the Noldóran left, still smirking, not even bothering to close the door.

“Bother!” Findis muttered crossly. “I’d forgotten all about the ride. Lairelossiel!”

An elleth, obviously one of Findis’ ladies-in-waiting, arrived at the door and gave her mistress a curtsey. “Lossi, be a dear and seek out Prince Intarion with my apologies and say that I will join him within the hour.”

Lairelossiel curtsied again and left, closing the door behind her.

“Your friend, Calandil, is correct, Valandur,” Findis said once they were alone. “You have friends here. Herencáno is one,” and the Noldorin lord nodded, “and I am another. I think you must be very special for one of the Valar to take notice of you and summon you to him. Lord Ulmo has always been a friend of the Eldar, or so the tales tell us. You should feel privileged…”

“But I don’t!” Valandur nearly shouted, leaping up in anger as he faced the princess. “I feel… I feel… I don’t know what I feel. I only know that Lord Ulmo’s promises that all would be well when I returned here are false. It is not well. It will never be well. Now I suggest you don’t keep your cousin waiting. I have work to do.” He gave a stunned Findis a short bow and turned to leave, but Herencáno reached him before he made it to the door and barred his path.

“No, Valandur. Do not leave us in anger. We’re your friends and I know right now you feel betrayed by those whom you thought your friends — and it really surprises me that the Vanyar who live in such close proximity with the Valar are the ones who disbelieve your tale rather than we Noldor who have little or no commerce with them — but you must have faith that what Lord Ulmo told you is the truth, for the Valar do not lie. All will be well.” He gave Valandur a warm, sympathetic smile, taking him by the shoulders and giving him a kiss of benediction on his forehead.

“Now, let us leave her Highness to ready herself for her ride with her royal cousin, while you and I retire to my townhouse for a quiet meal and conversation.”

“I am not allowed to leave the palace grounds,” Valandur reminded him.

“Tush! What do I care for that,” Herencáno said. “Ingoldo cannot refuse your being summoned by a Noldorin lord to attend him. We’ll go back and retrieve the notes for the day’s session and you can bring them along. I’ll help transcribe them for you. I imagine some of those notes are nigh indecipherable.”

“Sometimes,” Valandur conceded.

“Then let us away. Your Highness,” Herencáno turned and gave Findis a bow and Valandur followed suit. Findis nodded and then the two ellyn made their way back to the meeting room, retrieved the papers still lying on the floor and then left the palace. Valandur half expected to have the gate guards stop him, but they only saluted and allowed them to pass.

And all the while as they wended their way through the streets of Tirion, Herencáno spoke about his one trip to Alqualondë.