43: Many Meetings

“…So, in conclusion, we must remember that language is a living, breathing thing. It grows and develops and changes over time, just as we do. Those of us who remember Cuiviénen can see that the language we spoke in our youth is not the language we speak today and it would be foolish to try to return to that earlier time. Arguments on retaining linguistic purity are ill-conceived and ultimately pointless: people will speak as they please and the loremasters be damned. Evolution is inevitable and while those of us who study language might deplore the changes, we cannot stop them nor should we try. Rather, we should rejoice in our differences while ensuring that we remain comprehensible to one another. The Noldor are becoming divided, philosophically and linguistically, because of the changes some of them have made in the way they speak. There is a danger in that for us all, for if we are not careful, we can end up using language as a weapon against our kith and kin… and the Valar help us all if that day ever comes. Thank you.”

The applause was deafening and several members of the audience actually rose in ovation, including Valandur’s family. Looking out upon the hall, he could see the pride in his parents’ expressions, with Atar actually smiling and Ammë crying. His sisters also looked very happy for him. Headmaster Laurelassë approached the podium, clapping.

“Well done, yonya. Well done, indeed,” he said softly while Valandur stood there, feeling a bit stunned by the response to his talk. Laurelassë raised a hand and the applause reluctantly ceased. “Thank you, Master Valandur, for an illuminating talk, and thanks to our other masters for sharing their research with us. I am sure that we have all much to think upon in the days and weeks to come. Now, the reception will be held in the main refectory. Students, you are dismissed and are not required to attend if you do not wish to. Thank you all.”

With that, the convocation ended and the audience began to leave, many of the students eager to be out, not at all interested in attending some boring reception. As he was leaving the stage with the other masters, Valandur recalled with humor his own student days and how he and his friends would hurry back to their rooms to change out of their formal robes and into something more comfortable and then hie themselves to the nearest tavern to spend hours discussing their masters and other arcane subjects. Now, as a master himself, he was forced to attend the reception, but he did not really mind.

Master Calamíriel gave him a smile as they walked toward the refectory. “I think you were a success, young Valandur.”

“Apparently,” he said shyly. “I expected to be speaking to a near-empty hall, or at least one where most of the audience were on the Path of Dreams and only pretending to be listening.”

Calamíriel laughed lightly. “The hazard of having to go last, I’m afraid. Usually, we simply draw lots, and that was true with us four, but Laurelassë purposely had you speak last.”

“Because I am only a junior loremaster,” Valandur said with a nod of understanding.

“Partly,” Calamíriel admitted, “but also because, as you must know, people remember best what they heard last. Laurelassë is no fool, I assure you, nor are the rest of us blind. What you had to say was vitally important to us all. We needed to hear your message. Now, if I’m not mistaken, I believe there are some people who wish to greet you.”

Valandur looked about, realizing that they had entered the refectory and he saw his parents and sisters waiting impatiently to greet him. He gave Calamíriel a bow, thanking her softly, before joining his family. Marilla gave him a hug and his sisters all gave him kisses. Voronwë just nodded, his look of approval all that Valandur needed.

“A most interesting day,” Voronwë said. “I can see why the speakers are given a time limit. I imagine if there wasn’t one we would still be listening to the first speaker ramble on.”

Valandur chuckled. “For which we can be thankful. I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m parched. Should we find the line for the drinks and—”

There was a stir among the crowd and then people were stepping back and bowing and curtseying as Ingwë and Elindis, along with their children and, surprisingly, Intarion, entered the room and made their way directly to where Valandur and his family were standing. What shocked Valandur more than seeing the Vanyarin royal family was the sight of Olwë of Alqualondë walking beside Ingwë, smiling hugely. Valandur felt, rather than saw, his parents and sisters give their obeisance to the royals while he could only stand there.

“An excellent talk, Master Valandur,” Ingwë announced. “We were quite pleased with your presentation. Bard Voronwë, Mistress Marilla, you should be very proud of your son.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Voronwë said. “We are. We have always been proud of our son, of all our children. They are a source of blessing and joy for us.”

“As well they should be. What did you think, Cousin?” Ingwë asked Olwë.

The Teler gave Valandur a searching look. “I think I should have kept you in Alqualondë and had you enter my service instead.”

Ingwë laughed. “Now that would’ve been the trick, having a pet Vanya at your beck and call.”

Olwë grinned, turning to Valandur. “Well done, yonya. I can see why Lord Ulmo had you brought to Alqualondë.”

“Lord Ulmo?” Marilla asked, giving her son a puzzled look. “Alqualondë? When did you go to Alqualondë? You never spoke of it.”

Valandur blushed. “It was nothing, Ammë.”

“Nothing! The Lord of Waters summons you to Alqualondë and grants you an audience and you say it was nothing?” Marilla huffed in disbelief. “I suppose next you will tell us that you have tea with the Elder King himself on a daily basis and it is all in a day’s work.”

The royals all laughed. “Even I cannot claim that, Mistress,” Ingwë said, giving them a wink. He turned to Valandur, his expression now unreadable. “I think your son has left out a great many details of his adventures while he was away.”

“And now I must wonder what else he hasn’t told us, Your Majesty,” Voronwë said, casting a glare at Valandur who felt as if he was being ganged up on.

“Yes, what have you not told them, my love?”

Everyone startled at the strange voice and they turned almost as one to see an elleth standing at the door with another. She had thrown back the hood of her cloak but her companion remained hooded and did not move. Valandur could only goggle at the sight of Findis standing there, giving him a cheeky grin. Everyone else watched with interest as they sensed a drama about to unfold.

Ingwë was the first to recover. “Findis, my child, what are you doing here?” He held out his hands.

Findis came to them with her companion following and gave Ingwë a kiss in greeting. “I came to hear Val speak, of course, Uncle. Why else would I be here? Hello, Aunt Elindis. You’re looking well.”

“But how did you get here?” Ingwë insisted, looking befuddled. “Lord Aulë told me you were sequestered and by your atar’s orders no less.”

Findis waved a hand in dismissal and sniffed in disdain. “My atar can issue as many orders as he wishes, but they have nothing to do with me. I ran away.”

Now Valandur stepped in before anyone else could speak. “You ran away? How do you run away from Valmar, Findis, without any of the Valar knowing, never mind all the unclad Maiar? Do you think that you could so easily leave Valmar without them knowing full well what you are about? Are you that naïve?” His voice dripped with scorn.

She glared at him in anger. “What would you know about it?”

“I think I know enough to know that there is no way you left Valmar without every Vala and Maia in Aman being aware of your little escapade.”

“Escapade, is it? Well, I’ll have you know that I escaped from Lord Aulë’s with the help of one of his own Maiar, Aiwendil,” she announced triumphantly.

At this point, Intarion intervened, casting an amused look Valandur’s way. “She really thinks she’s gotten away with this, doesn’t she?”

Valandur snorted in amusement. “Really, Findis, Intarion is correct. None of us are fools. If Aiwendil helped you to escape it was by Lord Aulë’s orders. You have many talents, my dear, but suborning a Maia is not one of them.”

“Why you—” She started to raise her hand to slap him but he moved first, pinning her arms so that they were locked together in an embrace, staring into each other’s eyes. Ignoring the shocked silence of the spectators, Valandur smiled faintly. “Miss me?” he asked softly.

“What do you think, you stupid Vanya,” Findis retorted and then she wrenched a hand from his grasp, grabbed the back of his neck, forcing his head down, and then she was kissing him with great fervency and he returned the favor. Valandur heard the gasps of shock from the spectators, the moan of disbelief from his ammë and Indil’s squeal of adolescent delight, but it was Ingwë clearing his throat that forced the two apart. Valandur reluctantly let Findis go, stepping back and giving Ingwë a bow.

“Forgive me, Sire. I—”

Ingwë dismissed his apology with a wave of a hand. “I think you’ll be calling me Uncle before long, Valandur, so do not distress yourself.” He gave Findis a significant look. “We’ll discuss this later, my dear.”

Findis merely smirked, not at all repentant.

“But who is your companion, dear?” Elindis asked, breaking into the awkward silence that had fallen between the parties.

“I’ll let him introduce himself,” Findis replied and her companion pushed back his hood. Valandur saw a Noldo, his clear grey eyes full of wisdom and mirth, as if he looked upon the world and found it absurd.

“Master Rúmil!” Ingwë exclaimed. “This is indeed an honor.”

The Noldo reverenced the royals. “The honor is mine, Ingwë Ingaran.”

“I knew Master Rúmil would enjoy hearing Val’s talk, so I invited him to join me,” Findis said.

“You just happened to stop at Master Rúmil’s house while effecting your so-called escape,” Valandur retorted with disbelief.

“Something like that,” Findis shot back with a sniff.

Rúmil chuckled. “Actually, I was visiting with Lord Aulë and Lady Yavanna when they told me about the convocation and you, Master Valandur. I expressed some interest in attending and they arranged for me to come here, along with Lady Findis.”

“Oh? So they let you go, did they?” Ingwë said to Findis, who blushed, refusing to look at anyone.

“Lord Aulë practically begged me to take your niece away for a time,” Rúmil said with a light laugh.

“Actually, my exact words were: take the blessed child off my hands before I do something stupid that we will all regret.”

“Oh Valar!” Valandur’s ammë whispered in shock as the Master Smith of Arda materialized before them. Voronwë had to grab her before she fell into a faint.

“Just one Vala, Ammë,” Valandur couldn’t help saying, evincing nonchalance as he gave Aulë a bow of his head. “Don’t make it out to be more than it is.” He felt more than saw several eyebrows rising.

Aulë grinned widely, turning to Findis. “Now I know why you want to marry this ellon, my dear. Good on you.”

“At any rate,” Rúmil interjected, “I want to congratulate you on a job well done, Master Valandur. You and I should talk before I return to Valmar. I am staying at the Bowman’s Rest. Perhaps you would join me for a meal.”

Valandur gave Rúmil a bow. “Thank you. I look forward to it. I am free tomorrow, if that suits you.”

“Good. Good. Now, I will leave you all. No, no. I am perfectly capable of seeing myself out, thank you. Your Majesties.” He gave the royals his obeisance, nodded to Aulë, kissed Findis on the cheek and made his way out, leaving everyone else standing about staring at one another.

Aulë was the first to stir. “Well, I’m off. Findis, I will see you next week.”

“Yes, my lord,” Findis said humbly, giving the Vala a curtsey.

“Good work, my son,” the Vala said to Valandur. “Ingwë, Olwë, I’ll see you both on Valanya.”

It was not a question but a command and both kings acknowledged it with bows. Then the Vala was gone. For a long moment there was absolute silence and then everyone started speaking at once, demanding answers, while Valandur and Findis stood silently, lost in each other’s gaze.

“Will someone kindly tell us what is going on?” he heard his atar demand.

“Enough!” Ingwë called out sharply and silence reigned once again. “Headmaster, I do apologize for all of this. Please accept our congratulations for a most successful convocation. We look forward to attending the next one.”

“Your Majesty is too kind,” Laurelassë replied. “On behalf of the Academy, I thank you for your patronage.”

“Come along, everyone. I think we’ve imposed upon the good graces of the loremasters long enough. Valandur, you and your family will attend Us.”

Valandur resisted a sigh, giving Ingwë a bow. “Of course, Sire.”

Ingwë proffered his arm to his queen and with Olwë on his other side, they exited the refectory with the royal children following. Findis linked arms with Valandur and Intarion and joined the exodus with Valandur’s family bringing up the rear, joined by two of Ingwë’s guards who had waited in the hall outside.

Indil, walking between her brothers, kept stealing glances behind her, grinning at Valandur and Findis. “Is there to be a wedding, Ingwi?” she asked the elder twin, sounding quite excited by the prospect.

“Hush, little flower,” Ingwion admonished his sister gently, taking one of her hands while Ingalaurë took the other. “Thou’rt in public. Comport thyself accordingly.”

Indil subsided with a dejected sigh and Ingwion looked back at Valandur, giving him a smile and a slight shrug. Valandur smiled back in sympathetic understanding of dealing with younger sisters. No one else spoke out loud, though there was fierce whispering going on between his parents. Valandur refused to listen. Intarion leaned slightly forward to speak to Findis and Valandur.

“This is quite the surprise, Cousin, you showing up as you have. I have the feeling that Lord Aulë was behind your so-called escape all along.”

Findis merely sniffed in disdain. Intarion and Valandur exchanged amused looks but remained silent after that as the party made its way through the city and to the palace where Ingwë began issuing orders for a light repast to be made. He dismissed the guards with thanks and asked Elindis to escort the ellith to where they might refresh themselves, while he had Ingwion do the same for Valandur and Voronwë.

“And then bring them to the dining room,” he added as he took Olwë by the arm and the two kings went their own way.

“Please follow me, my dears,” Elindis said smoothly. “Yes, you too, Indil. Take Findis’ hand.”

“Come on,” Ingwion said to Valandur with a jerk of his head. “We’ll take you to our suite. Coming, Inti?”

“Right behind you, Cousin,” Intarion said and Valandur gestured for his atar to join them.

Neither Valandur nor Voronwë spoke the entire time as they took turns using the twins’ privy and washing up. Valandur could see that Their Highnesses were dying to speak, but they had been too well trained in propriety to importune Valandur with questions that they knew would be addressed by Ingwë, and for that, he was grateful. What his atar thought of it all, he could not say. Voronwë’s expression was unreadable to him. As they made their way to the dining room, they were met by the ellith. Valandur could see that his ammë and sisters were feeling rather overwhelmed as they looked about them in amazement at the opulence and grandeur of the palace. He gave them a sympathetic smile, no longer overawed by his surroundings.

Entering the dining room, he saw servants busily setting up a buffet while Ingwë and Olwë were standing off to one side with goblets in their hands. They turned as one and greeted everyone with smiles.

“Good, we’re all here,” Ingwë said. “Please help yourselves to refreshments. Val, lead the way.”

Valandur bowed and headed for the buffet. Elindis encouraged Voronwë and Marilla to follow and soon everyone was lining up with Ingwë, Elindis and Olwë at the end. Once they all had a plate and were taking seats at Ingwë’s direction, with Valandur and his family sitting directly across from the royals, the servants were dismissed with thanks by Elindis and the doors were closed, leaving them to themselves.

“Eat first, discuss matters after,” Ingwë ordered and he followed words with action.

Valandur looked down the table to where Findis was seated between Indil and Ingalaurë. She gave him a brief smile and then began eating. Valandur turned his attention to his own plate.

“Please do eat, my dears,” Elindis said softly to Valandur’s family, for they just sat there, not quite sure what was happening or why. “I promise, my lord husband rarely barks and never bites.”

Ingwë’s response to that was an undignified snort as he took a sip of wine, casting a merry look at Valandur. “As your son can attest,” he said.

Valandur said nothing, merely smiling back, and perhaps that, more than anything, assured his parents, for Marilla softly chivvied her daughters and soon they were all eating. As it was merely a light repast and not a full meal, they did not linger over their plates long. Finally, Ingwë looked up from his own plate, pushing it away a bit and refreshing his goblet of wine. Elindis rang a bell sitting on the table before her and the door opened.

“You may clear the table, Elenwendë, and have tea brought,” she ordered.

“Very good, my lady,” the servant said with a quick curtsey and then the other servants entered and began clearing the table. Tea was brought almost immediately, along with plates of sweet almond biscuits and then they were alone once again.

Ingwë gave Valandur a significant look. “I, of course, know the entire story, but perhaps you should tell it from the beginning so all may hear.”

Valandur nodded, then turned to look at his atar. “There were some things I did not tell you, not because I was ashamed or anything, but because I thought it wasn’t necessary for you to know.”

“You have never kept any secrets from us before,” Voronwë said, looking disturbed.

“I would have told you eventually,” Valandur assured him, “but some of it was… very personal,” he stole a glance at Findis, “and nothing would come of it anyway, so what did it matter?”

“What I don’t understand is, why were you in Alqualondë?” Marilla asked. “What reason would you have of going there in the first place, dear? You don’t know anyone there.”

“Well, I do now, Ammë,” Valandur said with a smile, nodding at Olwë, who nodded back. “And believe me I had no intention of going there, though I was curious to see the city. Well, let me start from the beginning, then. I told you about renewing my acquaintance with Minalcar and his family.” His parents and sisters nodded. “Well, what I did not tell you was that one Valanya, they invited me to join them for the day. We traveled down the Calacirya and found a lovely cove just to the north where we had a picnic. While we were there a swan ship came sailing around the headland and….”

It took some time to tell it all: his meeting with Lord Ulmo (though he refused to say what had passed between them), the storm and his eventual return to Tirion and the events that followed, leading to the fire and all that occurred from that, including the trial. For the most part, no one interrupted, though once or twice Voronwë asked some clarifying questions and both Ingwë and Olwë added their own comments about events as they directly concerned them. Valandur ended his narrative with his leaving Tirion and Ingwë then spoke.

“When we stopped at Valmar, I tried to speak with Findis, as I wished to hear her side of the story, but Lord Aulë refused me audience.”

Findis, who never looked up or spoke the entire time Valandur was speaking, now gave a snort of derision. “When I found out, I told him off. Vala he may be, but he does not own me. I may have been forced to go to Valmar, but no one could force me to stay and be the biddable daughter. I made Lord Aulë’s life miserable, I assure you. He was very glad to see me go.”

“And yet, he expects you back within the week,” Valandur could not help commenting. “How does that work again?”

Findis gave him a huff of annoyance. “I only promised to return so he would let me go.”

“But you will return, Daughter,” Ingwë said solemnly, speaking more as High King than as a doting uncle, “and you will be obedient to Lord Aulë and his people and learn from them what they will teach you.”

“Yes, Sire,” Findis said humbly, but Valandur could see the anger behind the meekness and he decided to defuse it.

“Well, it’s just as well,” he said with studied nonchalance. “Dealing with one adolescent elleth is hard enough without dealing with two.”

“Why you!” Findis shouted, practically knocking her chair over as she suddenly stood. “How dare you!”

Valandur also stood, though more slowly, now showing his own anger. “Yes, adolescent,” he reiterated. “Honestly Findis, I expect something like that out of Indil or, the Valar help me, my own sisters.”

“Hey!” all four ellith exclaimed in affronted fury.

Valandur ignored them as he concentrated on Findis. “You may be the daughter of the Noldóran, but you act like a child being denied her sweet.”

“I thought you loved me, that you would be happy to see me,” Findis shouted.

“Of course I love you. Don’t ever think otherwise, and of course I’m happy to see you, but not like this. Not with you insisting the rules don’t apply to you simply because you are Findis Finwiel. Your atar was right about one thing.”

“And what was that, pray tell?” Findis sniffed.

“You are too young to marry,” Valandur retorted. Findis actually paled and Ingalaurë had to grab her arm to steady her. Valandur sighed, giving them all a rueful look. His atar appeared appalled by what was happening but, oddly enough, his ammë nodded at him approvingly. What Ingwë thought of it all was anyone’s guess, for the High King’s expression was completely unreadable. He turned back to Findis, and seeing the hurt and confusion in her eyes, he went around the table and took her by the shoulders so she was looking at him. “Most people these days don’t marry until they’re at least three yéni old. You haven’t even seen two. There is so much you need to learn in the meantime.”

“I thought if I came here and forced the issue, Atar would have to accept that I want no other as my husband but you and propriety be damned. What has that to do with anything? It’s an artificial means of putting people in their places but who decides who is worthy of honor or respect? What gives us the right to dictate who is good enough and who is not? The Valar don’t. They treat us all the same. I’ve seen it. Lord Aulë and Lady Yavanna treat me no differently or better than they treat Orondur, a young ellon in Lord Aulë’s service whose parents own a tavern in Eldamas.”

“Forcing Finwë’s hand will only bring estrangement between the two clans, Findis,” Ingwë interjected. “I quite agree with you to a certain extent. Somehow, we Eldar have stratified our society and have decided that because someone has a title that he or she is more worthy of respect and honor than someone who does not. It’s unfortunate but it is what it is. However, if you and Valandur truly love one another, I see no reason why you should not marry. As High King, I can overrule Finwë on this, but I prefer not to. He must come to acceptance on his own.”

“Then he will never come to acceptance,” Findis said with a despairing sigh, “not so long as he sees Val as just a common loremaster with pretensions to better himself through me.”

“Yes, well, as the atar of three daughters myself, dear,” Voronwë said with a grin, “I can assure you that were the ellyn handpicked by Lord Manwë himself, they would still not be good enough for them. It is the way of things where daughters are concerned, I’m afraid.”

“Very true, I have no doubt,” Olwë said, “but really, Ingwë, I think between the two of us, we can convince Finwë of the error of his ways. Why don’t you simply give Valandur a title, make him a lord of the land, a member of your privy council? Finwë can’t object to that. It’s your right and privilege to advance whomever you please.”

“Perhaps,” Ingwë replied with a nod, “but Finwë may see it as a ploy to force his hand and he would be correct.”

“Yet, as young as she is, Findis is of age to make up her own mind,” Elindis put in. “I think we should simply allow them to marry and let the die fall where they may.”

Ingwë furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought, then looked at Findis. “You realize that your atar may banish you from Tirion, from your family. Is that what you want?”

“No, of course not, but if that is what he wants, then so be it. I do have other family, do I not, or would you banish us as well?”

“No, I would not. For one thing, I value Valandur too much to let him go his own way, and for another, the only other place you could go would be Alqualondë and I don’t want Olwë to get his hands on you, Loremaster.”

“Well, there’s always the Southern Fiefdom,” Valandur shot back with a shrug. “Ando Tarassëo seemed like a nice place, wouldn’t you agree, dearest?” He gave Findis a sly grin to which she merely sniffed and refused to respond.

“Well, this is all well and good, but what exactly is to be done, Your Majesty?” Voronwë asked.

“For now, nothing,” Ingwë answered. “Findis will return to Valmar as she promised and continue her studies. Your son will continue serving the Academy and me. We will let things remain as they are for the present, while Olwë and I work to convince our brother ruler that he would be foolish to stand in the way of true love.”

“And don’t forget your sister, dear,” Elindis reminded him. “She can help. I am sure she approves of the match. Indeed she told me as much in her last letter.”

Ingwë nodded. “Indeed. With Indis on our side, Finwë doesn’t stand a chance.” Olwë chuckled in agreement.

“But how long must we wait?” Findis demanded. “And what if Atto arranges a betrothal with one of his own lords in the meantime?”

“Hmm…. I hadn’t thought of that,” Ingwë said with a frown.

“Well, the answer to that is quite simple, my children.”

Everyone startled to their feet in shock as Lord Manwë appeared in their midst and they hastily began giving him their obeisance.

“No, don’t bother with all that,” the Elder King commanded. “Really, there are times when I have to wonder about you Children. The answer is plain and simple: have them be betrothed.”

“Against Finwë’s wishes, my lord?” Ingwë asked. “He’ll just have the betrothal annulled.”

“Well, he can’t annul it if I am the chief witness,” Manwë shot back with some exasperation, “I and all the other Valar.”

With those words the room was flooded with multicolored lights, temporarily blinding the Elves and when they could see again, blinking away the tears of pain, they found all fourteen of the Valar there. Looking at them, Valandur had the distinct impression that they were feeling rather smug about it all, even Lord Námo, who held two large pieces of vellum in his hands.

“Oh, and we need Eönwë as well,” Manwë said and the smell of lavender and lovage filled the air as the Herald of the Elder King made an appearance, a blue leather-bound book in his hands. Manwë gestured for Námo to hand over the pieces of vellum, and for Valandur and Findis to come nearer. Ingwë hastily cleared a spot on the table so Manwë could lay the vellum down. Valandur could see that they were a betrothal contract and a copy, both beautifully illuminated.

“Now, I believe that all the particulars are properly recorded,” Manwë said. “As the eldest male member of Findis’ family, Ingwë, you, of course, have final approval of the stipulations.”

Ingwë bent over to read the contract, quickly scanning it. “It appears to be in order and the brideprice is certainly within your means, Valandur, especially once I make you a lord of the land, and Findis’ dowry is quite adequate, as well I know. Finwë cannot deny her what is her legal due.”

“True, though I wouldn’t put it past him to try,” Námo said with a grin. “I may have to pay him a visit if he proves… difficult.”

Every Elf in the room paled at the implications of those words from the Lord of Mandos. Valandur suddenly realized that none of them truly understood Lord Námo’s role among the Valar or what the purpose was behind the Halls of Mandos. This Vala was a mystery to them, more so than any of the other Ainur.

“Well, be that as it may,” Manwë rejoined, “I think we can go ahead with this. I suggest though that the actual wedding be delayed. Findis must finish her studies and Valandur still has some growing up to do as well. Shall we say, in twelve years? Yes, that should be sufficient time for Finwë to get used to the idea.”

The Valar all chuckled and even some of the Elves grinned.

“Twelve years!” Findis objected.

“By then you will be two yéni old, dear,” Elindis said soothingly, “and your studies will be over and Valandur firmly established. It really is not that long, all things considered. Why, I think I spent a good ten years convincing Ingwë to marry me.” She gave her husband a coy look.

“I thought that it was I who had to do the convincing,” Ingwë said, kissing her, “at least, according to our daughter.”

They both looked down the table at Indil, who blushed, while her brothers and Intarion laughed. The Valar all had indulgent smiles.

“Well, then it’s settled,” Manwë said and passed a hand over the contracts and the length of the betrothal appeared in the writings of both. He then passed one copy to Voronwë. “And do you agree with the stipulations, Child?”

Voronwë read over the contract quickly and nodded. “Yes, my lord, I do, but if I might ask, why are you doing this?”

“Let us say that we have a vested interest in the future,” the Elder King said, and the quick glance Manwë gave Námo, who merely nodded, did not escape Valandur’s notice. “So all parties agree,” Manwë continued. “We need only sign the contracts and the deed is done.” He gestured and a quill and a bottle of ink appeared. Manwë dipped the quill into the ink and handed it to Ingwë, who signed both copies as Findis’ representative and then handed the quill to Voronwë, who signed on behalf of Valandur. Then, one by one, starting with Manwë, the Valar came and added their own signatures as witnesses. Once that was done and the ink was drying, Varda produced two silver promise rings and before them all, Valandur and Findis exchanged them, speaking their vows which Eönwë dutifully recorded. Manwë smiled at the couple.

“Now, I think we will leave you to celebrate. Be of good cheer, my children. Twelve years is not very long, after all, and you both have much to accomplish in the meantime.” Then he kissed them both and gave them a blessing before turning to Ingwë. “I suggest you make the announcement soon. Aulë will keep one copy of the contract for Findis’ sake.” With that, the Valar and Eönwë faded away, along with one of the contracts, leaving the Elves to themselves once again.

For a moment, no one moved or spoke, and then Ingwë reached for his goblet. “Let us toast the happy couple,” he said and everyone else raised their own goblets while Valandur and Findis stood shyly gazing into each other’s eyes.

****

Ainur: Plural of Ainu: ‘Holy One, angelic spirit’, adopted and adapted from Valarin ayanuz as the name used by the Elves to indicate one of the ‘order’ of the Valar and Maiar, made before Eä.

Notes:

1. Twelve Valian years is equal to 115 solar years.

2. Some might consider the Valar’s actions here somewhat arbitrary in light of their inaction during the crisis with the fire in the Southern Fiefdoms, and there is some justification to this. However, one should keep in mind that we are at a very early stage in the history of the Elves in Valinor (Melkor is still imprisoned in Mandos) and both they and the Valar are still feeling their way. The Elves are relatively new to ‘civilization’ as we would define it today, and the Valar are like children with a new toy, trying to figure out how it works. Thus, we have the situation with the fire where the Valar did not intervene immediately, wanting to know how the Elves would react to the crisis.

Here, the Valar are intervening because of Finwë’s obstinacy, ignoring the opinions and the counsel of his fellow kings, as well as Manwë. This is an attempt on the part of the Valar to show Finwë who is ‘boss’, exerting their authority. The Valar may even be subconsciously responding to the pride and growing haughtiness of the Noldor, seeing in an inchoate way the unrest that is beginning to plague them, even before Melkor’s release, and they do not realize that their actions might contribute to it.

A careful rereading of In Darkness Bound and the Elf, Interrupted series will show just how the Valar have had to learn from their own mistakes in interacting with the Eldar, whom they admit are a source of unending interest, for they had no hand in their creation and they remain a mystery.

My thanks to Alassiel for raising the question and to Ellie for her insight on the Valar and their motives.