Chapter 17

The king of the Noldor did not stay at the palace for long. After a week or two, he felt too restless, the walls too confining, and the corridors too devoid of family, so he ventured forth again. His steward, who had been in charge when he arrived home unexpectedly, remained in charge of matters until Arafinwë felt able to resume his duties. In Arafinwë’s mind, that might take a long time.

With his ever-present guard in tow, Arafinwë set out to visit every village that had sent ellyn to the war. The steward, who had not gone to the war, argued with him about the wisdom of such a venture, especially after so recently returning, but Arafinwë was adamant that he needed to go.

As he entered the first village, Arafinwë was struck with the similarities between elven and mortal communities – the bakers, the millers, the tanners, the weavers, the smiths all going about their business. The small houses ringed or were integrated into the village among the shops with the outskirts surrounded by farms. People went about to and fro, staring at him and his retinue as they rode through town.

It grieved him to see that there were no children about. While the Elves of Endórë seemed to have felt that having children in time of war was not a good idea, he found it troubling that those who had stayed behind in Aman had not seen fit to have children either.,  Then again, a large number of the ellyn had gone away to the war, but even still… Perhaps this village was the exception. He hoped that was the case and that he would find children in the other villages he visited.

The villagers watched in awe as he passed, making their obeisance, but some regarded him with anger and loathing as well. Some of those angry folk, he decided, would be the ones he would try to visit personally. He had lived in a mortal village with a lot of folk who were angry about the war and the sacrifices they were called upon to make because of it. Apparently, Elves were no different in that regard.

The village elders, though flustered and very surprised at receiving a visit from the king himself, were polite and amiable enough. The discussions with them, which were held at a table in the kitchen of the chief elder’s house,  ranged from hardships overcome while so many of the ellyn were away during the war to the difficulties of having so few of those ellyn returned to them.  But the most insistently asked question of all surprised Arafinwë greatly.

“Why were our exiled kin not returned to us at the conclusion of the war?”

“We want our children returned to us,” the chief elder explained after the third time the question was broached and Arafinwë still had not answered it. “We gladly sent warriors to avenge ourselves upon Morgoth for his heinous crimes against us all, but our children who followed King Fëanáro have not come home yet. Why is that?”

“We have kin in Mandos’ Halls who will be returned to us eventually, but what of our exiled kin?” another elder asked. “If they are forgiven, as rumor has said, then why have they not come home again?”

Arafinwë leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his tea while the ellyn spoke. No one was going to like the answer he had to give, so he posed a question of his own.

“I have not seen any children since I entered the village. Where are they?” Arafinwë asked.

“Are you expecting us to just forget we had the others and make new ones to replace the ones who left us?” The elder scoffed in disbelief.  “There was too much work to be done by too few for us to worry about having children while so many of our folk were away at the war. Now that our ellyn have returned, you may well see children being added unto families. However, we did not seek to replace those who chose to go into exile, and we will not seek to replace those who we lost to the war. We will simply wait for their return.” He looked pointedly at Arafinwë. “Where are the exiles now and when will they come home?”

Setting his cup on the table, the king straightened in his seat. Using the most matter-of-fact tone he could muster, he explained, “The taint of Morgoth on the folk who dwelt in Endórë is considered by the Valar to be very great. Therefore the Valar have decreed that those who went into exile and survived to return across the sea must abide for a time on Tol Eressëa. When the Valar deem they are ready to return to Aman proper, then they will be permitted to do so, but not before.”

The shouts were many as chairs scraped the floor and the elders rose to their feet in anger.

“What?!” 

“But we shed our blood to destroy Morgoth and rescue them!”

“The Valar lied to us!”

“How dare they!?”

“So many left, it is impossible for them all to fit on Tol Eressëa!”

“How could you betray our trust and allow them to keep our children from us?”

Arafinwë raised his hand and the room immediately calmed. Sweeping the room with a stern look, all returned to their seats.

“Your Majesty,” the chief elder began, “We-“

But Arafinwë stayed him.

“The choice was not mine to make nor mine to question. The fact that they let the exiles return as far as Tol Eressëa is a blessing in itself. So few of our folk even survived all that they were forced to endure in Endórë... The living conditions were harsh, especially after the elven kingdoms fell. The Valar cleansed the land after Morgoth was chained, but so little of the lands of Beleriand which our folk traversed from Cuiviénen even survived those floods.”

One elder indignantly rose to his feet again, “Why should you care what happens to us country folk? All we are good for is providing your food and populating your army. What are any of us worth to someone as puissant and mighty above us as you nobles believe yourselves to be? I bet your kin are all forgiven and back at the palace even now!”

Arafinwë motioned for the ellon to sit down again. “Please.” He gestured again and the elder grudging took his seat. “I do not believe myself to be above you, and I value each and every one of you or I, so newly returned from the war, would not have taken the time to come talk to you now. As for my family…”

He paused and took another drink of his tea. “My atar is not likely to ever return from Mandos nor will my brother Fëanáro. All but one of Fëanáro’s sons are dead and his one grandson survives still. Neither will return to Aman. My sister Lalaith and her family are all dead. My brother Nolofinwë was killed by Morgoth himself and his children are dead. Lady Idril and Lord Eärendil are the only ones to return of my brother’s line. My daughter Artanis is my only surviving child and she was refused a pardon.”

And my twins and any children they may have had could never see these lands anyway, but he kept those thoughts to himself.

“As for the folk who are to go to Tol Eressëa, we are working with the Teleri to build ports and to build at least one city for the returning exiles. Additionally, the mortals who served the Valar in the war are being given a land of their own. We are setting up trade agreements with the Mortals to the benefit of us all with Tol Eressëa as a halfway point between the two lands. This will provide trade and commerce for Tol Eressëa to help make it all the more viable, for the returning exiles and for the folk who only now have decided to seek the Undying Lands. The Valar may have said our folk cannot come to us, but they do not prohibit us going to them. The Valar ask for our patience in the healing of our returning kin.”

Arafinwë finished his tea while the others sat in thought.

“Is there a way we can contact them and find out if any of our kin have arrived on Tol Eressëa yet? Or if they even live?” one of the elders finally asked.

“No one has arrived on Tol Eressëa yet, however, they may begin arriving soon, though I do not know exactly when.” The king smiled ruefully. “I have only just returned to Aman myself and it took longer than I expected to prepare an army, which was used to picking up and moving frequently, to pack up and return here. I can only imagine how long it would take to build ships, pack up all of one’s family and possessions, and come here.”

Watching the ellyn as they pondered his words, an idea came to Arafinwë. “Many of you are from Cuiviénen or made the journey here. You know what is involved in moving a family and starting over again in a new land. Would you be willing to come up with some suggestions for establishing settlements on Tol Eressëa which might make the transition smoother for our returning kin?”

The chief smiled. “We would be honored to help. Now, if those children had listened to our stories when they were younger, they might not need our help to establish settlements.”

Arafinwë smiled grimly, “If they had taken to heart your cautionary tales of hardship and woe in Endórë, they would not have gone back there to begin with.”

Amidst many nods of agreement, the elders set about making suggestions concerning settling folk on Tol Eressëa.

When the meeting adjourned, the elders returned to their trades for they had lost a few hours of work and needed to catch up. Arafinwë decided to wander through the village, taking note of the condition of the buildings and the people.

In front of the bakery, Arafinwë called a halt. His captain and several other guards immediately joined him as he walked to the door. He turned and glared at them.

The king gestured to the large group of heavily armed ellyn, “Is this really necessary?”

“Your Majesty,” his captain replied, “with all due respect, you disappeared for seven years in the war, and you have only recently returned to us in Valinor now. We are not going to let you out of our sight.”

“Must so many of you accompany me though?” he asked in exasperation. “I promise I will not run away, and I am fairly certain that there are neither orcs nor balrogs nor other creatures of the dark present in these lands.”

“At least four of my warriors and I will attend you wherever you go. There may not be any evil creatures about, but I can tell you truthfully that not all of the folk of this village or many of the other villages will be pleased with a royal visit so soon after they have received news that so many of their ellyn are not coming home again. I apologize for being so blunt, your Majesty, but I know that is the sentiment in my village.”

Arafinwë smiled grimly, “My Captain, that is precisely why I am visiting each village. I understand the sacrifice my people have made, and I think they need to know of my gratitude and that I care.”

The entire retinue looked on him in surprise.

“You all stayed behind,” the king explained, “as your duties required of you, protecting and supporting my queen and helping to keep the order while so many were away. I fought and bled alongside the ellyn of these villages. Numerous times one of them saved my life or I saved theirs. I owe them this.”

The captain nodded. “Very well then.” He gestured to four of the guards. “I will announce you, but please do not take it personally if your welcome is less than warm.”

“I understand,” Arafinwë replied. “And I thank you for your honesty.”

Straightening his tunic and adjusting his travelling cloak, the king followed the captain and two soldiers into the bakery, with two guards trailing behind. The rest of the guards looked after the horses and took up position outside.

The interior was far more elaborate than the bakery in Faroniel’s village, with cheerfully painted walls and many tables, but the air smelled just as delightful. A dark-haired elleth emerged with a harried look on her face. She was short for a Noldo, but made up for it with the air of indignation which surrounded her. She curtsied deeply, looking suddenly ashamed when the captain introduced the king.

“Welcome to my bakery, your Majesty,” she said in a trembling voice. “What may I do for you? I am afraid I have little to offer today for I am baking for a wedding at the moment, but I am sure I can spare something.”

Arafinwë gestured for her to rise, which she did. “I do not wish to importune you. I saw you at the window and you appeared ah…troubled, so I thought I would stop in.”

The elleth blushed as she gasped. “Oh. Forgive me, your Majesty. I did not mean offense, I was thinking of…I mean…I simply, well-“

“Do not worry. What is your name? Are you alone here? If you are preparing for a wedding, should you not have help?” he asked.

“My name is Suliel, your Majesty,” she curtsied again as he inclined his head in greeting. “My husband, sons, and grandsons went away to the war,” she said, bowing her head as she wrung her hands in her flour-covered apron. “My daughter and I ran the bakery while they were away, but she is helping with other wedding preparations. Only my youngest great-great grandson has returned to us. His beloved waited for him all this time. He is the one getting married. I…I have much to do to prepare.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Arafinwë said. “We lost many good ellyn in the conflict. I thank you for allowing them to go, and I regret that they did not come home again. I understand your loss and I grieve for you.”

Boldly she looked up, her eyes ablaze with anger as she met his gaze, shaking her fist in rage. “Do you now? Do you truly understand the loss I have endured? You in your fancy palace in Tirion, do you truly understand what it is like to have to go on alone, worried night and day, fearing the worst for those you love?  Not knowing if they lived or died?  Trying to go on each day and remain strong for the rest of the family, trying to hide your fear every day and your tears on your pillow every night? And for what? To what end? Only one of them ever came home!” Tears sprang from her eyes as she weakly shook her fist one last time and limply let it drop to her side.   

“Do you know what it is like?” she whispered, her face contorted in sorrow. “Only my very youngest boy came home.”

Taking a few steps forward, he closed the gap between them. “I understand all too well. None of my kin…my atar, my brothers, my sister, my nephews, my dear daughter, my beloved sons ever came home.” He held out his arms and the weeping elleth tentatively leaned into them.

For a few minutes she sobbed into his chest. He just held her there, rubbing her back, offering what comfort he could while his guard looked on uncomfortably in a mixture of confusion and sympathy. Briefly he thought about Faroniel who lost two husbands to the war and Angadan whose sons probably never returned. Visiting some of those who had lost so much, seemed such a petty recompense, but he truly did not know what else he could do to comfort those who had remained behind.

When the elleth calmed, she pulled back, her face flushing in embarrassment. “My Lord, I…your Majesty, I…I am so…” she stepped back, wiping her eyes with her apron, smearing flour on her face amidst her tears.

Smiling in sympathy, he reached out and used a clean corner of her apron to properly wipe her face. “You are covered in flour, my dear,” he said.

“I…I am so sorry,” she flustered about patting her face with her hands. “I…Oh…”

“Do you need help finishing up the preparations for the wedding?” he asked.

She covered her mouth with her hands, looking over her shoulder at the tables of pastries and dough. “I…Oh dear!”

Then she turned and ran across the room to the oven. Hurriedly, she pulled out a pan of pastries, setting it on a nearby table. “Oh, thank the Valar, they did not burn!”

“I…” She looked about her, then sighed in defeat. “I do not know how I am going to finish this.”

Arafinwë reached up and unfastened his cloak, then removed his riding gloves, handing them to his captain, who accepted them with a bemused expression as if he had just been handed a snake. “Show me where I can wash up and then tell me how I may assist you.”

She looked at him in shocked bewilderment. “I…I…your Majesty forgive me, but have you ever even been in a kitchen before? I fear you would do more harm than good, no matter how well intended your help may be.”

He laughed merrily. “I had occasion to befriend a baker during the war, and he taught me a thing or two about cooking and baking. I can assure you I am not completely inept in that regard.”

She looked at him worriedly, glancing questioningly at his guards who shrugged in confusion, disavowing all knowledge and blame in this with their expressions. Arafinwë chuckled at the silent exchange.

“Ah…very well. Ah…I suppose you could spread the cream on those pastries there to begin with. That should not go too badly, I suppose.” Pointing to a back room she added, “Your hair is already braided out of the way. You can wash up back there. There is an apron on the nail over there. Put it on when you are clean.”

With a nod, he excused himself and went to wash up.

He did well enough with the cream, so he was allowed to help with the cherry filling and finally with constructing the apple tarts, too. Admittedly the approving comments he received from the baker made him blush with pride, especially when his captain paid him compliments about his work when the elleth left the room. The baker eventually brought out chairs for the guards as well as drinks and a pastry for each of them, smiling indulgently like a doting mother as they graciously accepted the food.

Lingering in front of the shortest of the guards who was still a good head taller than she was, she said, “Child, you remind me of my eldest grandson when last he sat here with me all smartly dressed in his uniform before he marched away.” Fondly she stroked his cheek with the back of her hand, then shook herself and gave him an extra pastry before returning to the kitchen.

Arafinwë nodded to him with an approving smile, then turned to continue his appointed task, not missing the gloating smirk the guard flashed at his obviously jealous comrades.

Gradually the elleth grew comfortable enough around the king to talk to him about her life and her family, from her childhood in Cuiviénen to the impending wedding of her great-great grandson who was the only son of her youngest great-granddaughter.

A few hours later, the work was done, and as the king donned his cloak and gloves, Suliel dropped a low curtsey. “Your Majesty, I have not the words to adequately express my gratitude for your help. No one will ever believe me when I tell them who helped prepare the deserts for the wedding.”

He smiled, his heart warming at her words. “It was but a small token of my gratitude for the sacrifice of your family, Suliel. I am grateful to you for allowing me to help and for feeding my guards.”

Each of the guards expressed their gratitude as well, to the obvious delight of the baker.

She blushed as she rose, then gasped. “Oh, I almost forgot!” She scurried off to a table, then returned with a bulging bag. “These are for you, your Majesty, and for your soldiers, especially those who so patiently waited outside. And…” she leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially as she pointed to the shortest guard. “See that that boy gets two. His face brought back so many joyful memories.”

Arafinwë repressed a laugh for ‘that boy’ had great-grandchildren of his own, but he refused to tell the baker that. Smiling at her joy, he reached out and gave the surprised elleth a fond embrace, which she willingly returned. “Thank you. I will see that ‘that boy’ is fed.”

When the king released her, he said, “Now I must go. The attention of the village should be on the bride and groom and not on me. I will be a distraction. Farewell!”

“Farewell, your Majesty,” she said graciously, curtsying again.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Arafinwë turned to his captain. “Did you leave it for her?”

“Yes, your Majesty, I did,” he replied with a proud smile. “She should find it soon.”

Mounting his horse, Arafinwë heard a cry of surprise from the baker. As he gave the word for his guard to wheel about and ride out of town, the baker opened the door.

Tears glistened on her face as she held up a bag of coins. “Thank you, your Majesty!” she called. Thank you!”

He inclined his head, then smiled even wider as her favorite guardsman blew her a kiss as the ellon waved farewell.

One village down, many more to go, Arafinwë thought as he rode past the last shop in the village.

XXXXX

It took weeks for him to visit every Noldorin village, passing even into the Southern Fiefdoms to pay his respects to the Noldor who served under his command.

In every village, he met with the elders first. Although many had some sort of meeting hall, he still found himself holding council in the kitchens of quite a few village elders, much to his amusement. He wished he had met with his people thus long ago, but at least he was doing it now.  The experience of meeting with the folk in their homes proved enlightening, seeing how they lived and how they conducted local affairs. In each village he asked the same questions and received similar answers. Likewise, he visited one or two families in each village who seemed to be experiencing hardship, offering what aide he could. Sometimes he offered help with labor and other times he only offered financial assistance. It touched him deeply to see that the gratitude of the folk was genuine, no matter the degree to which he had helped them. His guard received gracious treatment from many as well besides that first baker, which also quite pleased him.

When at last he returned to Tirion, the king was weary, yet he felt more a part of his kingdom than he ever had before. His guard seemed renewed in some way he could not identify as well, but his captain explained it to him on the ride to the city gates.

“Many of us who stayed behind felt that we were somehow less for not having gone to the war.”

“Did you truly wish to go?” Arafinwë asked in surprise. “I allowed as many as I could to go to Endórë.”

The captain bowed his head in embarrassment. “No, your Majesty, I dare say most of us in the guard did not wish to go. We remember too much of the long perilous journey here to Aman or we simply love this land too much to want to ever leave it. However, not everyone among the Noldor respected our decision to stay here and not go to the war. It was a matter of pride for many to go to the war, and it became almost a matter of disgrace to be a hale warrior who stayed behind.”

Arafinwë was stunned, but on consideration, he realized he should not be. The war after all had become a way for the families who felt disgraced by the actions of their exiled kin to redeem themselves in society and in their own perception of themselves. “Captain, have I ever given you the impression that I hold any of you in any less regard for your decisions to stay behind and provide a desperately needed service to your king and your folk?”

The captain shook his head, the entire retinue having gone silent, listening to their conversation. “No, your Majesty, you have not. I think I can speak on behalf of all of my ellyn and say that I thank you for the respect you have shown us.” He smiled. “No one outwardly treated us with disrespect during the war, but we heard them in the inns and taverns, talking about us when we were off duty and they did not hold us in high regard.   Travelling with you through the villages as we have…I must admit it was refreshing to see folk thinking highly of us again as well as treating us with the respect due our position.”

Calling a halt for they were just shy of the gates, the king motioned for the guard to gather closer. “My friends,” he said, “Please do not ever think for one moment that I have held you in any less regard for staying behind. If anything I hold you in higher regard, for I understand myself what it is to be the ellon who stayed behind when others departed. I understand what was asked of you and I admire you for it. I am proud and indeed honored to have each one of you in my service.”

The guards as one drew themselves up and saluted him. The king inclined his head in gratitude to his soldiers. As they surrounded him and entered the gates, Arafinwë noticed that their backs were straighter and their eyes prouder than they had been the entire journey.

XXXXX

The king arrived at the palace with little fanfare, as if he had just returned after leisurely riding for the day rather than being gone for weeks. He dismissed those who had accompanied him and acquired new guards as he made his way to his private chambers.  Taking a long soak in a very hot bath, he allowed himself to relax more completely than he had in a long time. He had much to consider from his visits, and would meet with his privy council in a few days or so after he had time to organize his notes and consider how he might be able to act on this new information. He needed to learn the state of affairs from his advisors who had stayed behind, as well as a host of other things that demanded the attention of a king. His obligations that he had most feared were met now with the discussion with Eärwen over with and the visits to learn of the state of his subjects. For now though, he felt that he could go on again with his duties and with his life. It would be difficult, but he would go on – after all that was what he did best, he went on in spite of the things that happened to him or conspired against him, and in some cases, because of them.

When the water started to turn cool, he climbed out of the tub, drying off and donning a green silk robe rather than dressing. After all, he had nowhere he needed to be for now and dinner was not for a few more hours yet. Picking up the book he half-heartedly had begun reading before he departed to visit the villages, he thumbed through the pages, realizing he did not remember any of it. With a shrug he decided to begin the book again.

Wandering into his sitting room, he went straight to a side table where a decanter of wine and some cheese and bread awaited him. He snacked on a few bites, before piling some more on a small plate and pouring a glass with which to wash it down later. After a few appreciative sips of the Vanyarin red, he turned and managed two steps toward his favorite chair before he dropped the book and the plate on the floor, nearly spilling the wine as well.

Eärwen was sitting there staring at him.