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In the High King's Secret Service  by Fiondil

32: At the Rose and Crown Again

Valandur fled the palace and made his way to the Rose and Crown, settling into a corner table and ordering one tankard of ale after another. It was nearly two hours later before anyone found him. As before, it turned out to be Aldamir and Sorondur.

“I’m not going back,” Valandur stated categorically as the two ellyn stood before him. “So you can just turn right around and tell whoever sent you to take a flying leap off Taniquetil.”

“That would be Ingwë and I don’t think I’m brave enough to tell the High King anything of the sort,” Aldamir said with a thin smile.

“I’m still not going,” Valandur replied, his tone turning surly. “I’m taking rooms here. I’ll have my things sent for. As far as I’m concerned, you can all take flying leaps. I’m through with all of you, Ingwë included. Now leave me be!”

“Is there trouble here?”

The three of them looked to see the innkeeper approaching, his expression polite but there was no mistaking that he would not tolerate any disruption to his establishment.

“No, no trouble. These ellyn were just leaving. I’ll have another.” He lifted the empty tankard.

“You’ve had enough, my friend,” the innkeeper said with a shake of his head. “I think it’s time you went home.”

“Home,” Valandur echoed sadly, now feeling maudlin. “I have no home,” and that thought set him weeping.

There seemed to be some kind of discussion about him between Aldamir, Sorondur and the innkeeper but Valandur was too lost in his own misery to concern himself with it. Someone tried to lift him out of his chair but he resisted, practically snarling as he wrenched himself away, clutching the table.

“No! I told you to go away! I’m not going back now or ever so leave me alone!” he shouted.

“Best you leave, youngsters,” he heard the innkeeper say. “I’ll see to him.”

The two Vanyar hesitated for a moment and then gave the innkeeper nods before exiting, leaving Valandur alone with him, who tapped him on the arm to get his attention. “I have a room upstairs if you’re interested.”

Valandur nodded. “Thank you,” he said and staggered to his feet, swaying a bit. The innkeeper had to take him by the arm and steer him toward the stairs, helping him up the steps and then he was being shown into a small room with a single bed. With a bit of help from the innkeeper, he removed his loremaster’s robe, boots and belt and then he was falling into bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

****

Valandur woke, still feeling lightheaded, wondering where he was, for the ceiling looked unfamiliar. He started to sit up and then wished he hadn’t for everything started spinning and his stomach protested in a way that told him he was in deep trouble. He became frantic as he struggled to get out of bed, but before he could figure out what to do next, someone was there with the chamber pot and then his stomach emptied out.

It took a few minutes for the heaving to stop and then he fell back with a groan, closing his eyes and hoping he would drift back into oblivion for a time.

“Rinse your mouth and drink some water,” he heard someone say.

He opened his eyes in surprise, recognizing the voice, and saw Ingwë leaning over to help him sit up, a goblet in one hand. Valandur took the goblet and rinsed out his mouth, spitting the water into the chamber pot, which Ingwë then closed and set aside. Valandur just sat and drank the water, staring at the High King over the rim of the goblet. When he had finished drinking, Ingwë took the goblet from him, setting it on the little table next to the bed. Valandur remained sitting, saying nothing, waiting for Ingwë to speak.

“Take a flying leap off Taniquetil, hmm?” Ingwë said as he settled himself in the room’s only chair, giving Valandur a slight smile. “A rather colorful phrase.”

“I’m not going back,” Valandur said tonelessly. “You cannot make me go back.”

Ingwë nodded. “No. I cannot, but I hope you will reconsider.”

“Why? Why do you even care?” Valandur felt himself growing angry.

For a moment, Ingwë did not answer and Valandur found it difficult to maintain eye contact with him, mainly because his eyes refused to focus properly, so he closed them, hoping that would help.

“Your time in Tirion has not been an easy one, has it?” Ingwë finally said.

Valandur cracked open his eyes. “No,” he said simply, sighing. “I was never fully accepted as a member of the delegation, certainly not by Prince Ingoldo, so what I had to say was generally dismissed and… and things happened.”

Ingwë nodded. “I’ve heard all about it from several sources. So, did you really meet with Lord Ulmo?”

Valandur raised an eyebrow at the king’s tone. “Jealous?”

Ingwë barked a laugh. “Not in the least. I’m just curious as to what he might have said to you.”

Valandur started to reach for the goblet on the table and the carafe of water sitting there, but Ingwë got to it first, pouring the water and handing him the goblet, which he accepted gratefully, drinking deeply before giving an answer. “He was primarily interested in my having some acquaintance with the Teleri, or rather the Lindar, as they prefer to call themselves, so that I could give you as complete a picture of the three clans as possible. Lord Ulmo specifically said that you need to be more assertive in your role as Ingaran and not just as Vanyaran and that you need to encourage more interaction between all three clans, not just between the Vanyar and the Noldor.”

“And do you agree with him?”

“Anything that can draw the three clans closer and reduce if not eliminate any cultural misunderstandings between them can only benefit us all.”

Ingwë nodded. “So do you mean to give up your position at the Academy?”

Valandur blinked, trying to understand what the High King was saying. “Give up my position? Why would I do that?”

“You said you were not going back,” Ingwë pointed out.

“I only meant, back to the palace. I have every intention of returning to Vanyamar and taking up my duties at the Academy once again. I will, of course, provide you with a full report on everything that has happened, but once that is done, I wish only to be left alone.”

“And Findis?”

Valandur felt his heart lurch at the sound of her name. “She is in Valmar where her atar desires her to be. I will not see her again.” And simply speaking the words sent a lance of pain through his fëa.

“So you will not fight for her?”

Valandur scowled. “Fight? Fight with what? Do you seriously think her atar will ever welcome me as a suitor? You heard Finwë. He wants Findis as wife to one of Olwë’s sons, thus strengthening the alliance between them. I’m just a loremaster. I can claim no higher status.”

“Olwë does not think either of his sons will be interested and will not pursue the matter.”

“Then he’s a fool!” Valandur snarled. “An alliance between their two Houses is in the best interest of everyone.”

“Everyone but you and Findis.”

Valandur could not dispute that, so he didn’t try. Instead, he closed his eyes again, wishing the last month or so had never happened, that he had stayed in Vanyamar in blissful ignorance. He was too heart-sore and no longer had the strength or the will to fight anyone for anything. He felt, rather than saw, Ingwë stand and opened his eyes to see the High King staring down at him. His expression was surprisingly gentle and sympathetic.

“You’re hurting and you are weary in fëa. I will have your things sent down. Stay here as long as you need. I will not be leaving for Vanyamar immediately, but I do expect you to return with the rest of us.”

Valandur nodded.

“Good. In the meantime, I truly do wish you would join me and Olwë for dinner… when you are able to look at food again.” He cast him a knowing smile and Valandur found himself smiling back.

“Perhaps in a day or two,” he allowed.

“I will hold you to it. Now I had better go, but before I do, I want you to know that I am very proud of you. You have comported yourself with greater nobility than some who think that having a title is all that counts. I am sorry that things turned out as they did. If I had known….”

“You would still have asked me to go,” Valandur interrupted. “I do not say that to disparage you, Sire; I speak a simple truth. As Ingaran, you would have had no choice whatever your personal feelings on the matter simply because you needed the information that only I could gather for you. I do not blame you for that. I blame the fact that I was neither fish nor fowl and no one trusted me. Not a few were convinced that I was your spy.”

“Yes, so I gathered,” Ingwë said. “Well, I will leave you. Do you desire anything? I will speak with the innkeeper on my way out.”

“I think I just want to sleep for a while,” Valandur replied, “but I thank you for your solicitude, lord.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Ingwë said and then saw himself out. As the door opened, Valandur glimpsed a guard standing in the hallway, obviously there to ensure the High King’s privacy. The door closed and he sighed, sinking back under the covers and willing himself to sleep, but it was some time before he actually slipped onto the Path of Dreams.

****

It was hours later when he woke a second time, though he was rather unclear as to what day it was. He sat up, no longer feeling lightheaded and looked about. Someone had come in while he was sleeping and had emptied the contents of the chamber pot, for it now sat empty within easy reach on the chair beside the bed, and when he examined the carafe on the table beside him, he found it to be full. Pouring himself some water, he drank greedily, for he felt dehydrated, no doubt because of all the alcohol he had drunk. When he had had his fill, he stumbled out of bed and saw several bags piled at the foot of it. Rummaging about, he pulled out fresh linen and a tunic, laying them on the bed before exiting the room and making his way down the stairs. By the light streaming through the windows, he could tell that it was several hours before Telperion would come to full flower. The common room was empty but he could hear voices coming from what he assumed was the kitchen and when he passed through the archway he found himself being stared at by several people, only one of whom he recognized.

“Ah, you are awake at last, my friend,” the innkeeper said with a smile.

“Awake, yes, but I’m not sure if that qualifies me as being yet alive,” Valandur quipped and the others laughed. “Could I trouble you for some hot water? I know it’s too late for a bath but….”

“I have anticipated your needs, lord,” the ellon said formally. “The bathing room is just off the kitchen. Everything is all set up. I’ll have the hot water brought presently.”

“Thank you,” Valandur said gratefully. “And… ah… the privy?”

The innkeeper smiled. “At the end of the hall.”

“Thank you again,” Valandur said and made his way out, returning first to his room to gather his things and then back to the ground floor, dropping everything off in the bathing room before using the privy. By the time he returned he found the tub full and he wasted no time in divesting himself of his clothes and slipping gratefully into the water, the absolute pleasure of it eliciting sighs and groans of relief. He allowed himself to soak for a few minutes before cleansing himself and then he was out and drying off and in short order was dressed. He was bundling up his dirty clothes when there was a knock on the door.

“Come,” he called out and the innkeeper opened the door.

“If you will give me those, lord, I will see that they are cleaned. My sister does the laundry for us.”

“Thank you,” Valandur said, handing him the bundle. “And now that I feel more alive, perhaps I can trouble you further for something to eat, something light.”

The ellon grinned. “I can offer you some chicken broth and soft rolls.”

“Thank you again,” Valandur said as the two exited the bathing chamber. “By the way, what day is it?”

The innkeeper laughed. “Well, it was still Elenya when you showed up and it is now Aldúya, so you slept through Eärenya.” Valandur sighed and the ellon gave him a sympathetic look. “Now don’t you be fretting about that,” he said. “Why don’t you go find a seat and I’ll bring you your meal.”

In a few minutes, Valandur was attacking the simple meal with gusto, only just realizing how famished he was. His last meal had been several hours before the trial and he had eaten nothing since. He sipped on some water — the innkeeper had offered him some small beer, but he had declined — and contemplated what he should do next. He wondered how Calandil and the others had made out and resolved to send around a note to his friends to let them know how he fared. Perhaps they would be able to join him later for a meal and he could tell them all that had happened. He was about to call to the innkeeper to ask for paper and pen, when the inn door opened and a Noldo in the livery of the palace entered. Valandur looked up with a frown as the Elf made his way to him.

“Loremaster Valandur?” the ellon asked politely. Valandur just nodded. The ellon reached into a satchel that he was carrying and pulled out a bit of vellum, handing it to him. Valandur took it with some reluctance. It was sealed and Valandur recognized the High King’s imprimatur.

“Is a reply expected?” he asked as a matter of course.

The ellon nodded. “I was told to wait.”

Valandur nodded. “Well, sit and take your ease while I read this. Innkeeper!” When the ellon appeared, Valandur gestured to the courier. “Something for my friend here.”

“I am on duty,” the ellon protested. He pointed to the carafe of water sitting on the table, “but I wouldn’t mind some water.”

“I’ll get you a goblet,” the innkeeper said and Valandur ignored the two ellyn as he slit open the seal and began to read:

I trust that this missive will find you alive if not necessarily feeling well, it began and Valandur couldn’t help snorting in amusement at that bit of drollery as he continued reading. There are matters that need to be dealt with before any of us can return to Vanyamar, so I would ask of your courtesy that you attend Us at the third hour after Second Mingling on Menelya. The courier will wait for your reply.

As politely as it was couched, Valandur recognized a royal summons when he saw one and that he was expected to comply to it whether he liked it or not. Well, he knew that certain matters had to be resolved and hiding at the Rose and Crown would not help. He looked up at the courier sitting across from him sipping on some water, waiting patiently.

“Please tell His Majesty that I will be there as requested,” he said.

The ellon nodded, drained his goblet and stood. “I was also commanded to tell you that His Majesty the High King has already settled accounts with the innkeeper. You may remain here until the Ingaran leaves for Vanyamar.” He gave Valandur a short bow and left before Valandur could muster a reply. He sat for a while, staring at the missive, re-reading the words a few times before setting it aside and returning to his meal. He would ask for writing implements later.

****

Valandur spent the rest of Aldúya quietly. After his meal, he wrote his notes and the innkeeper assured him that he would have someone deliver them posthaste. Once that was done, he decided he needed some exercise, so he went out and made his way down the street to Finwë Park and spent some time strolling through it, contemplating everything that had happened to him of late. Most of the time, though, he found his thoughts drifting as images of Findis invaded his ruminations and he realized how much he missed her. He wondered how she fared and if she missed him or was she so busy with her studies that she gave him little thought.

That possibility pained him, but he realized that perhaps it was for the best. What did he in fact have to offer her? He lived in a suite of rooms at the Academy set aside for unmarried teachers and as one of the newest loremasters his salary was just enough to keep him comfortable but it hardly allowed him any real luxuries. She would be better off marrying Lindarion or Falmaron so she could continue living in the style to which she was accustomed.

Yet, as logical as all that was, he felt his heart aching at the thought of never seeing her again, never holding her or kissing her, never hearing her laugh or listening to her expound on some matter of philosophy or linguistics. He longed to hold her in his arms, but knew that in the end, it would come to naught; Finwë would see to that.

Sighing, he glanced at the sky, automatically gauging the time by the quality of the light, and decided to return to the inn to see if any of his friends had sent a reply yet. When he returned, he was greeted by the innkeeper and when he enquired the ellon handed him several pieces of vellum. “Will you be wanting a private room, then?” he asked and Valandur nodded, thanking him, taking a quick glance at the missives.

“There will be eight of us.”

“I’ll see that everything is ready for your guests,” the ellon said, giving Valandur a short bow before leaving him. It would be a few more hours before his friends would be there, so he decided to indulge himself with a short nap.

****

Valandur descended the stairs to the common room and smiled at the sight of Calandil and Aldarion standing there with Minalcar, speaking to the innkeeper. They all looked up as they noticed him.

“Are you all right, otorno?” Calandil enquired, his expression more worried than anything as he and Valandur hugged each other in greeting. “When I heard you’d been arrested, I tried to speak with Princess Findis but no one would let me in the palace.”

“I am fine, truly,” Valandur said. “I’m just glad to see you two safely back. You must tell me what fared in the Fiefdoms after I left, but wait until we are all gathered.” He turned to the innkeeper. “Our room?”

“Just down the hall,” the ellon said. “It’s the first door on your left. I have already taken these ellyn’s drink orders. What will you have?”

“I think I had better stick with water for another day or three, just to be on the safe side,” Valandur said with a smile, “or perhaps some kind of fruit juice.”

“I have hawthorn juice chilling in the cold cupboard,” the innkeeper offered.

“That will be acceptable,” Valandur said with a nod.

“Ah, there you are.”

Valandur and the others turned to see Simpandil enter with Ferenion, Cemendur and Amandil, all of them with grins on their faces. Valandur greeted them all with hugs and then suggested that they retire to the private parlor set aside for them. The newcomers relayed their drink orders to the innkeeper and Valandur asked what the special of the day was. When they learned that it was a venison pie with frumenty, everyone ordered it before making their way to the parlor.

Once they were all settled, Valandur insisted that Calandil tell him what happened after they parted company.

“Well, we headed east with the intention of going around Orvamas and reaching the road to Tirion from that direction,” Calandil said. “We got as far as the eastern encampment where we found things to be rather confused with everyone milling about. The guards were rather lax and we were able to get inside and speak to some of the refugees. It took us some time to find out what was going on, only to learn that the promised food had not been delivered.”

“What do you mean?” Valandur asked, puzzled. “We divided the wagons and sent a third of them to each encampment. In the time we were away, all of the wagons should have emptied out.”

“And apparently those wagons were,” Aldarion interjected, “but the wagons that came after were not sent to the encampments, at least not immediately, and when they arrived, they were less than full, according to the refugees with whom we spoke. There wasn’t enough food to go around and people were becoming anxious.”

Valandur grimaced. “That makes no sense. What profit would it serve to deny these people any of the food sent? What about what was sent? How was it distributed? Was it freely given or did people continue to pay the discounted price?”

“And that’s another thing,” Calandil said. “The people we talked to said that they were told that they had to pay full price for the food that was available, only no one had that kind of coin. They barely had enough to pay the discounted price but it would’ve been enough to feed everyone in the encampment. When they protested, even showing the guards the schedule of prices that you had posted, the response was a shrug and a take-it-or-leave-it attitude. You can imagine that didn’t sit well with anyone.”

“What did they do then?” Valandur asked.

“They tried to take the wagons by force, but the guards were too well armed with spears and no one could get near them and since they refused to pay what was being demanded, the guards just took the wagons away.”

“Why would anyone deny people sustenance?” Ferenion asked, looking as troubled as the others. Most shook their heads, having no answer.

“At any rate,” Calandil continued, “we did not linger but headed back to Tirion as quickly as possible. As I said, I tried to see Princess Findis, but I wasn’t allowed in the palace, nor would anyone take a message to her. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Valandur assured him. “I’m sure you did all that you could. I wonder if all this happened before or after Prince Fëanáro showed up.”

“As to that, I have no idea,” Calandil admitted with a shrug.

Valandur nodded. “I think that the High King may already be aware of what you have told me.”

“Ingwë!” more than one voice exclaimed. “How does the High King know about it?” Minalcar demanded.

Before Valandur could answer, the parlor door opened and the innkeeper entered with another, both carrying trays.

“Morion!” Valandur exclaimed, rising to greet the ellon. “How did you get here? When did you get here?”

Morion grinned at him as he set down the tray with people’s drinks. “I walked, of course. I arrived only a short time ago.” He gave Valandur a searching look. “Are you all right? When we saw you being dragged away like that….”

“I am well, I promise,” Valandur assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. “But come, sit and tell us what you will. My friends and I were just discussing the situation in the Fiefdoms. I need to have as much information as I can when I see Ingwë tomorrow.”

“Ingwë!” Morion exclaimed in surprise.

“Yes, now come sit with us and I will fill you in on all that has happened and you can do the same.”

“Let me help Neldoron with your orders and then I will oblige you,” Morion said.

Valandur nodded and in a matter of minutes the food was being served. Morion brought in another chair and sat between Simpandil and Amandil, contenting himself with a tankard of bitters, while everyone else ate. There was no talking for several minutes while they all concentrated on their meal but eventually Valandur looked up from his trencher and addressed Morion.

“I was about to tell everyone what happened with me when you arrived.”

“Then let us share our tales,” the ellon said.

“Well, when we reached Tirion….”

The others listened with expressions of shock and disbelief as the tale unfolded and some of their comments were less than polite, but when Valandur got to the part of his tale where he woke up in the inn to find Ingwë holding the chamber pot for him while he threw up, his otornor couldn’t help laughing and even Morion looked amused.

“It’s not funny,” Valandur protested.

“Oh, but it is,” Calandil said, giving him a cheeky grin, “if only because previously you were the one holding the chamber pot for one of us. I never thought I would see the day when it was your turn.”

There was more laughter and Valandur shook his head, finishing his story somewhat lamely. “Well, anyway, I’m due to meet with Ingwë tomorrow at the third hour after Second Mingling.”

“I cannot believe the High King himself was wandering through the Fiefdoms in disguise,” Cemendur said, shaking his head. “Do you think he was there watching everything that happened in Orvamas?”

“I have no idea,” Valandur replied. “He would have had to take care not to be seen by either Finwë, Ingoldo or Intarion, for they would have recognized him whatever he was wearing, but he could certainly have hidden himself among the other Vanyar in Poldormo’s camp. I doubt any of them would know Ingwë by sight.”

“You know, just after Fëanáro pulled out of Orvamas, two Vanyar showed up asking many of the villagers questions,” Morion stated, looking contemplative. “I don’t know how they managed to pass through the cordon that still surrounded the village, but somehow they were there.”

“Do you think it was the High King?” Minalcar asked.

Morion shrugged. “Perhaps. One of them was wearing a green hunting tunic, even had a bow slung over his shoulder. The other was similarly dressed but he seemed more like a guard than a companion to the first ellon.”

“What sorts of questions did they ask?” Valandur wanted to know.

“Mainly about you and Intarion and what you had done and why were you both returning to Tirion as prisoners. My brother Varnion told them about your idea of selling the food at a discount and getting all the villagers to bake bread for the refugees and such. Neither my brother nor I know what set off the riots, but I do know that Prince Intarion was doing everything possible to see to everyone’s welfare. He didn’t just sit in my tavern drinking my ale and ordering everyone about. He traveled to each of the encampments and spoke to those in charge and then came back and spent hours juggling figures, trying to ensure that no one went without. He even spoke of drawing funds from his own account to pay for the food so those with little coin would receive something.”

“None of that came out in the trial,” Valandur said. “Intarion actually pleaded guilty to the charges and never defended himself. I had to do it for him and I had none of this information.” He gave the Noldor a considering look as he came to a decision. “Morion, Calandil, I would like you to accompany me when I go to see Ingwë.”

Both ellyn looked surprised at the suggestion. “Whatever for?” Calandil demanded.

“I want Ingwë and others to hear from your own lips what you’ve told me,” Valandur said.

“But you could just tell them yourself,” Morion said.

Valandur shook his head. “Then it would only be hearsay on my part. The High King needs to hear it from you, though I suspect he knows more than he’s letting on, but I also want the Noldóran to hear from two of his own subjects what happened.” He gave them a pleading look. “Please come with me. I need your testimony. It isn’t enough for Ingwë to declare me or Intarion innocent. I do not care for myself, but Intarion is now seen by others as incompetent and unworthy of trust and he deserves better. He is too conscientious and too honorable to be treated so and I would see him exonerated.”

Neither Calandil nor Morion replied, both looking troubled but finally Morion nodded. “I will go with you. I wish to see for myself if the Vanya asking all those questions really was the High King.” Surprisingly, he blushed and looked suddenly sheepish. “And I need to apologize to him for my… er… comments about what I thought of royalty.”

Valandur found himself grinning with the others as they came to certain conclusions. Then Calandil turned to Valandur. “Well, if Morion is willing, I will come as well.”

“Too bad we can’t all go,” Simpandil said with a sigh. “Hearing about it afterwards isn’t the same.”

“I know,” Valandur said sympathetically, “and I’m not sure how Ingwë will take my bringing these two with me. I may have to do a lot of convincing of the guards to let you in.”

“Well, you are a lambengolmo,” Calandil said. “If you can’t be convincing, no one can.”

Amandil lifted his goblet. “To Valandur, the best lambengolmo in Eldamar. May you never be at a loss for words.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Ferenion said enthusiastically and the other Noldor raised their goblets in agreement and drank the toast while Valandur looked on, feeling embarrassed, yet warmed by the obvious love and respect that they had for him, the lone Vanya among them.





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