30: Valandur before the Noldóran

Valandur discovered a note hidden under a plate when a meal was brought to him on the following day at Second Mingling. It was from Findis stating only that the enquiry had been delayed a few hours ‘for family reasons’ but to be ready at all times for the summons. He had to wonder at that, for he thought Finwë would want to get the trial over with, and if it were only Valandur who was being put on trial there would be no question, but perhaps with Intarion involved things were more complicated. He had the feeling Indis had her hand in this somewhere.

Well, that only gave him more time to prepare himself. He thought about what he should wear to the trial and at first he figured to wear what he had worn to his audience with Ingwë, but then decided against it, not wishing to tip his hand. He needed to appear as if he’d had little warning about the enquiry, for, by rights, he should have been formally apprised of it by one of Finwë’s heralds and offered counsel if he wished. In the end, he chose one of the plainer tunics given to him by Lindarion, a pale sea-green silk tunic with sea pearls sewn along the hem, cuffs and placket. He also pulled out his loremaster robe and draped it over a chair in the sitting room, guessing that when the summons came the guards would not allow him to fetch it. He would insist on using the privy even if he had no need for it if only to remind them that certain courtesies should be followed.

He was standing on the balcony a couple of hours past the time of Laurelin’s full blooming, idly going over his defense, reviewing everything he and Intarion had done and said, when he heard the door being unlocked and went back inside to see several guards standing there. One of them, wearing a sash denoting his rank as captain, gestured to him.

“Come. You’ve been summoned by the Noldóran.”

“Indeed?” Valandur said, evincing nonchalance. “Well, let me use the privy and I’ll be with you…”

“There is no time,” the guard said gruffly. “His Majesty has demanded your presence now.”

“Then His Majesty will just have to wait,” Valandur shot back. “Have you Noldor become so boorish as to forget the niceties of civilization and civility? Perhaps we Vanyar should have remained in Tirion to ensure that you Noldor remembered how to behave.”

The ellon had the grace to look abashed. “Well, just be quick about it,” he muttered.

“I will be as quick as I can,” Valandur replied, keeping his expression neutral. He made his way to the privy and purposely waited several minutes before returning to the sitting room where the guards waited impatiently.

“What took you so long?” the captain demanded. “I was about to come get you.”

“One cannot hurry nature, my good fellow, as well you know,” Valandur responded with a smile. “But come. Let us not keep His Majesty waiting.” The guards all grimaced at that bit of ingenuousness as Valandur scooped up his loremaster robe and donned it. “Why so many of you?” he asked the captain in a conversational manner as they set out. “Does the king think me so dangerous?” But the ellon refused to respond and Valandur decided guard-baiting could only be taken so far and fell silent.

They led him to an unfamiliar part of the palace and in a short time they were standing before a set of doors where other guards stood. They were ushered in and Valandur found himself in a small audience chamber that could probably only accommodate about a hundred people or so. At one end was a two-step dais on which was a richly carved chair of nessamalda wood under a canopy of red velvet. Finwë sat there with Fëanáro standing on his right. There were several others standing before the dais. On Valandur’s left were all the Vanyar from the trade delegation with Ingoldo and Tinwetariel actually standing on the first step of the dais. Neither looked particularly happy to be there. There were also a number of Noldor, among them Herencáno, and Valandur had to assume they were perhaps members of Finwë’s Privy Council or other close advisors. Intarion stood to Valandur’s right and was flanked by two guards. All in all, with the addition of Valandur and his guards, there were probably fewer than thirty people. Of Findis or Indis he could see no sign and he had a momentary sense of panic which he ruthlessly quelled, forcing himself to remain calm and clearheaded.

Both Finwë and Fëanáro scowled as Valandur and his guards approached, the guards saluting. Valandur refused to bow. “Did you lose your way to the prisoner’s suite, Captain?” Finwë asked in a deceptively mild tone.

The guard paled. “No, Sire. The… um… prisoner had to… ah… use the… er… privy first.”

The silence that followed that statement was… interesting. Valandur just smirked when Finwë glanced at him. The king raised an eyebrow. “Well, let us get on with it,” he said, gesturing for the guards and Valandur to move to the side where Intarion stood. Valandur was glad to see that the Vanyarin prince was looking less bruised, but there were circles under his eyes and he had a haunted expression. He still refused to look at Valandur, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Read the charges,” Finwë ordered and Fëanáro took a step forward.

“Prince Intarion Ingoldion and Loremaster Valandur Voronwion of the Vanyar, you stand accused of treason against the Noldóran in that you conspired to profit from the misfortunes of others by forcing the refugees from the fires that devastated the Southern Fiefdom to pay for the food which the Noldóran had freely given them. How do you plead?”

“Guilty,” Intarion said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Valandur stared at him in shock and dismay, but then turned to face the throne. “Not guilty and that goes for Intarion as well.”

“His Highness has pleaded guilty of the charge,” Fëanáro stated with a smug look.

“His Highness is clearly not in his right mind,” Valandur shot back. “I do not know what threats you made against him to make him enter a guilty plea but he is innocent of any crime, as am I. And if this is truly a trial, why was I not informed of it in a timely manner and allowed counsel? What witnesses are there to these accusations? I see none of the people from the Fiefdoms whose coin we are accused of stealing. The only person other than Intarion and I who were in the Fiefdoms at the time is you, Prince Fëanáro, and it is only your word against ours. And I find it highly suspicious that we are holding this trial in a less than public venue. What are you so afraid of, Fëanáro?”

All the while, as he was speaking, many among the Noldorin courtiers began murmuring and casting dark looks at Valandur, though he noticed that Herencáno had a more amused expression. Ingoldo and Tinwetariel both glared at him and the other Vanyar shared uneasy looks between them, as if unsure who to believe now.

“Enough!” Finwë demanded and the murmurs ceased. “This is not a trial in the legal sense of the word, Loremaster. It is merely an enquiry and we are not required to follow the rules of law in that respect. Prince Intarion has not been threatened and his plea stands. We will deal with him later. As you have declared your innocence, you may present whatever evidence you have to refute the charges against you.”

“Then you will need to send for either Her Majesty or Princess Findis,” Valandur said, “for they have the evidence I require.”

“Her Majesty is otherwise engaged,” Finwë said with a shake of his head, “and my daughter is halfway to Valmar by now.”

“Valmar! But why?”

“Why?” Finwë echoed. “I am not required to answer to you, Loremaster, but I assure you I have no ulterior motive for her being sent away. She is to be tutored by the Valar even as my son was. These arrangements were made some time ago, and now was the time for her to go. Now enough. You have entered a plea of ‘not guilty’. I suggest you present what evidence you have so we may pass judgment on you.”

Valandur licked his lips, silently cursing himself for being such a fool as to have given Findis all his evidence. He could have easily hidden it on his own person instead, but he had not been sure if he wouldn’t have been searched first before being allowed to come into Finwë’s presence. Well, there was no help for it. He would have to try a different tack. He turned to Intarion.

“I’m glad to see you are no longer looking so bruised, my prince. How did that happen? I still do not know what chanced while I was traveling through the Fiefdoms ascertaining which villages were still standing. And what is all this nonsense about being guilty of treason?”

Intarion did not answer immediately, glancing first at Finwë, as if seeking permission. Finwë nodded. “You may speak, Nephew. We would hear your words.”

The ellon finally looked at Valandur and there was the shadow of shame in his eyes. “I do not know how it started but, shortly after you left, a rumor ran through the encampments that the bread and potatoes and grain and such that had been sent were a free gift from the Noldóran and that you and I were stealing from the refugees to line our own pockets.”

“Do you know where the rumor started or by whom?” Valandur asked.

Intarion shook his head. “I only know that a riot broke out in the western encampment and while I was there trying to calm everyone down, Prince Fëanáro and his men showed up and immediately began attacking us on his orders without seeking to find out what was going on.”

“Us?” Valandur asked, casting a look at Fëanáro, who stood beside the throne looking imperious.

Intarion nodded, grimacing. “You know most of those at the western encampment are Vanyar. There was a great deal of shouting and shoving going on and all was confusion and I was busy trying to calm everyone and get Poldormo and the other leaders to listen. Next thing I know we’re being attacked by Noldorin guards, not the ones protecting the food wagons, but others whom I did not know. They grabbed me and began hitting me though I had done nothing to provoke them, but their fellows were doing the same to others. I tried to tell them who I was but they ignored me.”

He stopped and glanced briefly at Fëanáro before continuing his narrative. “If Prince Fëanáro hadn’t recognized me I am not sure what would have happened. He made the guards stop beating me and apologized for their… um… enthusiasm, as he put it.”

Valandur turned to Fëanáro with a skeptical look. “Did you give orders for your men to attack unarmed farmers and a prince of Eldamar?”

Fëanáro bristled. “Who’s on trial here?”

“I am merely trying to discover what happened,” Valandur replied. “I was not there. I only know that when I returned, Orvamas was surrounded by your men and no one was being allowed in or out of the village. I only know that when I identified myself, I and I alone was allowed to enter the village, whereupon you immediately arrested me and had me thrown into a storeroom with no explanation. I only know that Prince Intarion, when I saw him, was badly bruised, his clothes torn and his hands were bound, while I had a rope thrown around me, pinning my arms, with one of your guards pulling me along like a prize lamb. You wouldn’t even allow them to remove the rope so I could drink. Someone had to stand there and hold the waterskin for me. And all the while, there was absolutely no explanation as to why. Until now. So I ask you, your Highness, how is it that Prince Intarion was attacked when it should have been clear enough that he was not one of the farmers and why did none of the guards sent with the wagons intervene?”

“When I came upon the encampment, it was evident that there was trouble and I ordered my men to put a stop to it,” Fëanáro explained. “They did. I am sorry Prince Intarion was hurt.”

“Hurt?!” Valandur exclaimed, then shook his head, turning back to Intarion. “Well, that still does not explain why you are pleading guilty. You’re not guilty of anything. Neither of us is.”

“It was your idea to sell the goods to the refugees,” Intarion said softly, not looking at him.

For a moment, Valandur just stood there staring at the ellon and realized how young Intarion was. “I see,” was all he could think to say at that moment.

“Do you deny Prince Intarion’s words?” Finwë asked.

Valandur turned to look at the king and shook his head. “No. It was my idea to sell the goods at a discount, a token payment, nothing more. We asked the locals what the going price was for certain foodstuffs and then charged half of that, sometimes even less.”

“So you claim,” Fëanáro stated, “but I was told you charged full price, though only half the coin was counted by the guards. Where is the half you stole?”

“And by whom were you told?” Valandur shot back. “And just where do you think I hid anything when I was not even there? If anyone had an opportunity to hide coin it would’ve been Prince Intarion and since we never charged full price for anything, I don’t see where he could’ve gotten the money.”

“Yet you cannot deny that you decided to make these people pay for what the king had declared a free gift,” Fëanáro insisted.

“And when did His Majesty make this declaration?” Valandur retorted. “Certainly not in Nordomas when we were all together. In Tirion? Well that might have soothed the populace there but the news never reached us and the captain of the guards bringing the wagons did not make any such declaration either publically or privately nor did he hand us a note from the king saying so.”

“You should have known that I would give those people the food freely,” Finwë said.

Valandur gave the king a surprised look. “How should I or Prince Intarion have known that, Your Majesty? By what means would either of us have known your mind in this save that you spoke your thoughts directly to us? I know Prince Intarion was ready to give the food away free but I counseled otherwise, not because I desired to steal from anyone and profit from the misfortune of these people, most of whom are fellow Vanyar, but because I wished to preserve their dignity and I did not wish to set a precedent that could have dire consequences for us all.”

“Yet, I understand you did give away some of the food for free,” Finwë said.

“What we did was to give the people of two villages some of the food that had arrived before they were about to return to their homes, which were the closest to Orvamas and only partially destroyed. They protested that they did not have enough coin to pay for any of the food even at a discount for there had been no time to collect such before they fled the fire. We told them that when they reached their villages, they were to gather as much coin as they might find and pay what they could and consider the rest as a free gift from the Crown. Unlike the majority of the refugees, the people of these two villages were Noldor.”

“Even at a discount, most of those refugees could not have paid for all of the food they needed,” Finwë said. “I suspect most had no money at all.”

“We told them to pool their resources, buy what they could from what they had,” Valandur said. “Then and only then would we give away the rest free if it was warranted. It was our hope that enough of the villages had survived, either in whole or in part, that we could send the bulk of the refugees home, thus relieving you and the other kings from the burden of succoring them, though we will still need to provide seed so crops which were destroyed can be regrown.”

“Do you have any proof of anything you have said?” Finwë asked. “At this time, it is only your word against my son’s. Prince Intarion has pleaded guilty of the charges, thus he, too, speaks against you.”

“What proof I have is in the hands of others,” Valandur admitted. “I kept a record of all that we did and the decisions that we made, but I no longer have it in my possession.”

“Where is it then?” Fëanáro asked with a sneer.

Valandur resisted a sigh and gave the prince a sardonic smile. “Probably halfway to Valmar by now.”

There was a brief moment of silence and then, as the implication of Valandur’s words became clearer, both Finwë and Fëanáro gave identical scowls.

“Findis,” Fëanáro spat in disgust. “How did she…? When did she…?”

Deciding there was no point in hiding the truth, Valandur shrugged. “She climbed the balcony,” he said with as much nonchalance as possible. He decided not to mention Indis and her role in all this. Let them draw their own, if erroneous, conclusions. He felt, rather than saw, Intarion staring at him in open-mouthed disbelief. There were murmurs among the Noldorin courtiers and a few were seen rolling their eyes. Herencáno had a wide grin on his face. Laurelindalë and Nolondilmë actually giggled behind their hands, earning them fierce scowls from Ingoldo and Tinwetariel.

Finally, Finwë spoke, his look of exasperation one that Valandur had often seen on his own parents’ faces whenever he or his sisters had done something ‘phenomenally outrageous’, as his atar often put it. “It seems my daughter is rather… inventive.”

“You mean, impossible,” Fëanáro stated almost angrily. “Even after you ordered her not to interfere, she still defied you. You did well to send her packing, Atar. Perhaps while in Valmar she will learn proper respect of your person as king, though I doubt it.”

“Well, that is neither here nor there,” Finwë said with a wave of a hand. He looked at Valandur. “So, you gave my daughter your evidence. Well, she is not here. I have no intention of recalling her nor will I waste time having her rooms searched for this hypothetical evidence of yours. So unless….”

He was interrupted by the doors of the chamber being suddenly flung open. There were gasps of surprise at the most unexpected sight and Valandur felt his eyebrows leave his forehead as Olwë of Alqualondë strode purposefully toward them. Finwë rose to greet him.

“Cousin! What dost thou here?”

Instead of answering Finwë, Olwë stopped before Valandur, giving him a sardonic smile. “Can’t stay out of trouble, can you, yonya?”

Valandur could only shrug, not sure just how to respond to that. Olwë seemed to understand, for his smile became more genuine as he patted Valandur on the shoulder.

“Olwë…” Finwë started to say but the Teler interrupted, moving to stand more directly before his fellow ruler.

“I am curious to know why I wasn’t told about the fire.”

“I had every intention of informing you once I had all the pertinent information. Besides, as far as I can tell, none of your estates suffered damage.”

“Well, be that as it may, what are you about, Cousin? Lord Ulmo said Loremaster Valandur was accused of treason against you? What nonsense is that?”

“Lord Ulmo!” Fëanáro exclaimed, stepping forward, and there were murmurs of surprise from most of the onlookers. “How would the Lord of Waters know anything of what is happening here in Tirion, and why would he care?”

Finwë waved Fëanáro away with an impatient gesture. “Don’t speak foolishness, yonya. The Valar, even Lord Ulmo, care very much.”

“And all that is spoken near water comes to the ear of Lord Ulmo,” Olwë said. He gave Finwë a wicked grin. “If you want to keep any secrets from him, you’d best not speak of them where he can hear.”

“Regardless,” Finwë said dismissively, “I fail to see why any of this concerns you, Olwë. Loremaster Valandur’s and Prince Intarion’s offenses…”

“Intarion!” Olwë exclaimed in surprise. “Ingwë’s nephew?” He turned around to look where Intarion stood next to Valandur and then turned back to face Ingoldo. “You must be Ingoldo. I vaguely recall you. And you countenance having your son be accused of treason?”

“He confessed,” Ingoldo said stiffly. “There is little I can do about it.”

For a long moment, Olwë just stared at the Vanya, then shook his head and turned to Finwë. “Well, the whole thing is absurd. I do not know Intarion, but I do know Valandur, and I’m telling you, Finwë, he is no more treasonous than your son here. Valandur is as honorable an Elf as any I have met.”

“Even so, he stands accused of crimes against Our person,” Finwë retorted. “He and Intarion, both. Intarion admits his guilt, while Valandur has pleaded innocent. We are in the process of ascertaining the truth of the matter.”

Olwë turned again to look at the two prisoners, then walked over to them so that he was facing Intarion, who looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face. Valandur was not sure what was happening but Intarion suddenly stiffened, making a small gasping sound before going still, his gaze never leaving Olwë’s face. The king stared at the Vanya for the longest time and no one moved or uttered a sound. Finally, Olwë’s gaze flicked toward Valandur for a second, thus releasing Intarion, who shuddered and began blinking, as if waking from a dream. Olwë turned to Finwë and spoke.

“I find no guile in this one,” he said. “If he admits to these crimes he does so out of fear for himself or another, not because he is guilty.”

“And how would you know?” Fëanáro demanded hotly.

Olwë ignored the ellon, his concentration on Finwë. “Surely you know how to read a person’s fëa, Cousin. Why have you not done so here? Why this charade? What is really going on?”

“That is what I would like to know,” someone said and even Olwë started at the voice.

Valandur was not the only one to find himself kneeling in awe as Ingwë, High King of the Elves, strode past them, looking less than pleased. In spite of the fact that he was wearing a plain hunting tunic dusty with travel and could have passed, at first glance, for an ordinary Vanya, there was no mistaking the aura of authority that surrounded him, an aura of majesty that not even Finwë or Olwë could achieve.

Ingwë was accompanied by Indis, her arm linked with his, and Valandur could not help noticing the faint smile of satisfaction on her face. “And I sincerely hope you have a very good explanation, Finwë,” Ingwë continued as he came abreast of Olwë who took a few steps to his left to give them room. The two kings acknowledged one another with nods.

When Finwë just stood there fairly goggling in shock at his visitor, Ingwë raised an imperious eyebrow. “Well? I’m waiting.”

****

Note: Finwë and Olwë addressing one another as ‘cousin’ does not denote kinship, either by blood or marriage, but is a form of address typically used between rulers as an acknowledgement that they are related by virtue of their both being kings.