126: Interview With Elflings

Finrod invited Haldir and Gwilwileth to join him for dinner that evening, not willing to let the other elf out of his sight too soon. He was concerned about Haldir’s state of mind and wished to assure himself that the ellon was recovering from his blood-trance. Both Haldir and Gwilwileth were reluctant to come, the former pleading fatigue after the events of the day, the latter simply looking distraught, but Finrod exercised his royal prerogative and made it a command.

"You will both be there," he said, his expression stern but compassionate. "I do not want you to be alone at this time."

"Hardly alone, aranya," Haldir said with a twist of his lips and a sly sideways glance at Gwilwileth, who stifled a giggle.

Finrod chuckled. "You know full well what I mean, Haldir. I expect you both to be there."

"Yes, aranya," Haldir said with a grimace, but gave Finrod a proper bow even as Gwilwileth curtsied.

Amarië also joined them for dinner. It was the first time she had actually been inside the encampment and Finrod escorted her about while they were waiting for their meal. Haldir and Gwilwileth accompanied them. Many of the elves in the encampment greeted Finrod familiarly and offered their congratulations on his betrothal. One or two of them even asked him what he thought his chances were in defeating Glorfindel should the two end up competing against each other.

"And what makes you think I will get that far, or that Glorfindel will?" Finrod asked them with a smile.

"Well, if you don’t, aran nîn," one of the Sindar named Galadhonion said with a laugh, "I’ll be three bows poorer, for that is what I have bet on."

Finrod laughed as well. "In that case, I’ll do my best not to disappoint."

"Oh, you could never do that, aran nîn," Galadhonion said in all seriousness. "Whether you win or lose, you could never disappoint us. We love you too much for that."

The other elves in the vicinity nodded. Finrod paled but did not dispute Galadhonion’s words. He suddenly felt humble and unworthy of the obvious love and regard these elves held for him.

"I’m no longer king of anything, Galadhonion," was all he could manage to say. "I relinquished my crown..."

The Sinda snorted and shook his head. "A crown does not make a king, aran nîn," he said, giving Finrod a level stare. "It’s just the opposite. Whether you wear one or not, you are a king, and more specifically, you’re our king... well, at least until Elu Thingol is released from Mandos," he ended somewhat lamely, looking embarrassed.

Finrod raised an eyebrow at that and his mouth quirked in an odd smile. "And when that blessed day comes, what happens to me?"

The elves looked about in embarrassment, not willing to look at Finrod directly. Galadhonion paled and started to stammer an apology, fearful that he had insulted one whom he held in high esteem, but Finrod forestalled him.

"When that day comes, mellon nîn," Finrod stated, "I will full willingly relinquish my claims to the ruling of the Elves of Tol Eressëa, for I do not desire it. It is one reason I have stayed away from there, to avoid such contentions as will inevitably arise once the various kings of Beleriand are again Reborn."

"Yet, in the meantime..." Galadhonion began.

"In the meantime," Finrod said, "it is best to learn to govern yourselves, or failing that, choose one among you to hold the regency until such time as my great-uncle is released from Lord Námo’s care."

The elves looked decidedly unhappy about it but could not come up with any counter-arguments. Finrod smiled upon them compassionately. "Be at peace, mellyn nîn. Know that if there is need, I will always be there. Do not hesitate to call upon me."

Galadhonion gave Finrod a look of suspicion. "Yet, would you indeed come if we call?"

Finrod straightened, his mien becoming stern. "I did not hesitate to answer Beren, a mortal, when he came to Nargothrond to redeem my Oath, though it led to my death. Should I do less for thee, who art of my own kind, Galadhonion of Tol Eressëa?"

The Sinda went to his knees. "Forgive me, aran nîn. I meant no disrespect."

Finrod nodded, relenting. "Thou hast my forgiveness, my son. Now rise and let us be friends."

So saying, he reached down and lifted the Sinda to his feet and they embraced, exchanging a kiss of peace. Finrod smiled at Galadhonion and then, stepping back, gave them all a bow of respect before taking Amarië’s arm and escorting her back to his own compound.

Amarië had watched the exchange with some bemusement, for the ellyn had spoken in Sindarin. Gwilwileth had whispered a translation for her. When Finrod had mentioned his Oath and its consequences, Amarië had felt herself trembling, though she forced herself to remain impassive before the others. None, except possibly Findaráto, knew what it cost her to remain calm during the exchange and he was too busy concentrating on Galadhonion to take much notice, or at least Amarië assumed.

When they had moved some distance from the others, Finrod stopped and took her into his embrace. "Be at peace, meldanya," he whispered in her ear. "It is over with. I am here now and all is well."

She felt herself trembling anew, but from a far different emotion as Findaráto continued holding her. She reveled in the feeling of his arms around her, the scent of him filling her nostrils, the pulse of his heart beating in rhythm with hers. She thought she could remain that way forever, but of course, it did not last. Findaráto released her and gave her a warm, understanding smile.

"Come, let us see what the elflings are up to," he said as he led her back to the compound. Haldir and Gwilwileth, who had maintained a discreet distance during their embrace, now caught up with them. "They will be serving tonight."

"The Valar help us," Haldir said with a laugh as they came to the pavilion to see all was in readiness.

****

Eruanna and Veryandur wore the tabards Finrod had ordered for them. They looked both proud and frightened at the same time as they helped each other set the table. The three older elflings were not left out, though. Ingwion had come with three tabards that pages at the High King’s court wore. These were white silk trimmed with gold and embroidered on the front with an eight-pointed star in gold thread. They were a bright contrast to Finrod’s tabards of dark blue silk trimmed with gold and with a harp embroidered on them in gold thread.

Ingwion handed the tabards to the older elflings, who looked upon them with wonder and delight. "For now, until you go to Tirion," Ingwion explained to them, "you will wear these tabards when you are serving your lord."

Finrod nodded in approval when he saw them and thanked Ingwion, who shook his head and smiled.

"It was actually Atar’s idea," the prince said, "or perhaps I should say it was Amillë’s idea and Atar merely agreed with her."

They all laughed at that. "Regardless," Finrod said, "I am grateful. I know these three were beginning to feel neglected and left out of things."

They all took their seats. The table had been expanded with two additional leaves to seat all who were there that evening. As usual, Finrod sat at one end while Glorfindel sat at the other end closest to the pavilion opening. Amarië sat at Finrod’s right, while Gwilwileth and Haldir sat on Finrod’s left. Sador sat next to Amarië, while Laurendil and Manwen sat across from one another with Ingwion on Manwen’s right and Alassiel on Laurendil’s left. Vorondil oversaw the serving of the meal this evening, as he and Alassiel took turns doing so. Mithlas and Aldarion, who normally would have joined them, had been invited to eat elsewhere with friends they had made during the archery meet earlier that day.

Veryandur was just in the process of placing the bread on the table while Lindorillë and Eruanna were handing out plates of cheese and bowls of butter mixed with herbs when there was a shimmer in the air just outside the pavilion’s opening. Finrod and the others stood immediately and bowed while the three elflings stood frozen in place. Before them stood two of the Valar: Irmo and Námo.

Irmo gave them all a brilliant smile. "Ah, just in time for dinner, I see," he said brightly.

"Impeccable timing, as always, brother," Námo said with a quiet smile of his own.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and gave Finrod a questioning look. "Did you invite them?"

Finrod shook his head, his expression alternating between amusement and concern. Glorfindel turned back to the Fëanturi, giving them a supercilious sniff. "May I see your invitations, my lords?" he said, sounding uncannily like Ingwë’s chamberlain.

The Fëanturi laughed. "Mind yourself, youngling." Námo said, then turned his eyes upon the three elflings who were still standing like statues. He glanced briefly at Finrod then gestured to the two ellith. "Come here, my daughters."

Lindorillë went dead white and Eruanna nearly dropped her plate of cheese, which Sador gently took from her. Finrod gave them both compassionate looks.

"Do as Lord Námo bids, children," he said softly yet with an air of command they had begun to recognize and obey.

With much fear and trembling the two ellith approached the Fëanturi whose features were stern but not frightening. Námo ran a hand through Eruanna’s hair and the elleth was heard to sigh and her eyes started to unfocus. Irmo did the same with Lindorillë. Soon both ellith were feeling less frightened.

Námo smiled slightly. "That’s better. There’s nothing to fear here," the Vala said softly, still caressing Eruanna’s locks. "Now, Eruanna, tell me what you’ve learned so far since taking oath to Lord Findaráto."

Eruanna blinked a couple of times before her eyes focused on the Vala standing before her. "I... I want to be a... a squire to Lord Findaráto... l-like Alassiel," she whispered.

Irmo raised an eyebrow and gave Finrod a measured look. "You will have to tell me how you do that, my son," he said.

"And what is that, my lord?" Finrod asked with mild amusement.

"Get them to love you."

Finrod shrugged. "As to that, my lord, I have no answer. Perhaps you should ask them why they do so."

Irmo nodded. "Perhaps I shall. Later."

Námo meanwhile was nodding at the elleth. "A worthy goal, child. May you persevere in your quest for excellence." Then he turned his amaranthine eyes upon Lindorillë and while his gaze was no less compassionate, his expression darkened somewhat. Irmo’s continual stroking of the child’s hair, however, kept her calm and compliant. "Tell me, Lindorillë, who your atar’s friends are."

Both Finrod and Glorfindel stirred but subsided when Námo glanced up at them and shook his head before turning back to the elleth. Lindorillë looked troubled but Irmo’s ministration kept her biddable and she answered readily enough.

"Well, there’s Master Rúmil, not the loremaster, but the blacksmith, and then there’s Master Calamandil, he’s the baker down the street and..."

"Who among the nobles, child?" Námo interrupted her gently, giving her a smile. "Does your atar ever entertain any of the lords of Vanyamar?"

Lindorillë nodded. "Lord Súlimondil and... Lord Valacar... I saw him fight. He’s not very good, is he?"

Several people had to force themselves not to laugh at that last observation. Finrod and Glorfindel on the other hand both raised an eyebrow at the names and gave Námo penetrating stares. Finrod it was who spoke. "That explains much... and not enough."

Námo gave him a wintry smile. "The rest is up to you."

Finrod was about to reply when Vorondil entered the pavilion with the other two ellyn in tow. "Master, what’s keeping Eru.... — m-my lords?"

The Fëanturi looked up at Vorondil and smiled. Sorondil and Oromendil nearly collided with the ellon, both carrying hot dishes, their mouths agape in surprise.

"Ah, the rest have arrived," Irmo said, releasing Lindorillë, who came out of her trance, blinking.

She looked up at the Valar and paled, but Námo merely smiled at her. "You are doing very well here, child," he said. "We’re very pleased with you."

The elleth now blushed and looked down at her toes as Námo gently moved her aside to stand next to Eruanna. Then he gave Sorondil and Oromendil a measured look. Without taking his eyes off them he addressed Vorondil. "Take the dishes, Vorondil. My brother and I would like to speak to these two."

Vorondil paled somewhat but nodded. He took the bowl of dried apricot and ginger soup from Sorondil’s hands, the apricots floating in a white broth, and then the platter of mushrooms in oyster sauce from Oromendil, placing them on the table.

Finrod gave the Fëanturi a brief wry smile. "Our dinner is getting cold, my lords. Do you think you can do this after we’ve eaten?"

Námo smiled back. "No."

Glorfindel gave a snort and Haldir sniggered. Sador, however, grabbed a hunk of bread, giving the Valar a cool stare. "Can we at least sit down while you two... hold court?" he asked pointedly before deliberately taking a bite.

Now it was the Valar who raised their eyebrows at the young ellon. Námo gave Irmo a look that none of the elves could interpret, then turned back to Sador. "If you must," he said with a long-suffering sigh and then two heavily carved chairs appeared and the two Valar sat, thus giving everyone else permission to do the same. There was much scraping of chairs and quiet murmurs before everyone was settled. Vorondil and the elflings remained standing, rooted where they were.

"Now, where were we?" Námo asked no one in particular. "Ah yes... Sorondil, Oromendil, come here." He gestured to the two ellyn, both of whom were nearly white with fear. They stumbled towards the Fëanturi, stopping just before the thrones. Oromendil looked as if he were going to faint, while his cousin merely looked sick. The Valar gazed upon the ellyn, their expressions stern, though not without compassion.

It was Irmo who spoke. "If either of you seek to renege on your oaths to Lord Findaráto, you will be severely punished."

The ellyn gasped and Finrod gave the Valar a hard stare. "What do you mean by that, Lord Irmo? How do you expect them to renege on their oaths and do you not think I would know if they did?"

Irmo raised a hand in placation. "Peace, my son. I have no doubt you had ways of knowing what your subjects were about when you ruled in Nargothrond, but these two are not your subjects. We are aware of their plans to... run away, I believe is the term... once they reach Tirion, though even they have no idea where they wish to run."

Finrod stood up and went around the table and stood behind the ellyn, forcing them to turn around so he could see their faces. "Is this true, children?" he asked softly. "Were you making plans to run away?"

Sorondil swallowed noisily and nodded. Oromendil just stood there, unable to look away, fear in his eyes. Finrod sighed. "And where did you think to hide that neither I nor the Valar could find you?"

"W-we don’t want to... to leave Vanyamar," Sorondil stammered, tears beginning to run down his face. "We... I... don’t want to leave ammë and... and atto."

"Now who’s being a baby," everyone heard Veryandur whisper, giving the older ellyn a scowl of disgust.

Finrod rolled his eyes while the two Valar hid smiles. Sador reached over, grabbed the elfling and sat him on his knee, whispering something in his ears that set the child blushing and looking embarrassed. Sorondil and Oromendil, meanwhile, were crying in earnest now and Finrod gathered them both in his embrace.

"Shh. No tears now," he said gently. "I know this is very strange and frightening for you, but I promise you all will be well." He motioned to Alassiel with a jerk of his head. She stood and approached them. "I want you to go with Alassiel and wash your faces," he told the ellyn. "We’ll talk about this later. Go on now." He shooed them towards Alassiel who nodded to Finrod and took the ellyn’s hands, leading them out of the pavilion.

Finrod turned his attention back to the Valar who looked back with mild interest. "While I appreciate the gesture, my lords," the ellon said, "I find your interference with my household... disturbing."

"Would you wish for us to remain silent in certain matters?" Námo asked.

"I would wish to be consulted first," Finrod retorted somewhat angrily. Then, he closed his eyes and visibly reined his emotions in. Opening his eyes again, he gave the Fëanturi a respectful bow. "Forgive me, Masters. I meant no disrespect."

Námo nodded. Irmo said nothing.

"Hey! What about me?"

Finrod turned to see Veryandur, still seated on Sador’s lap, looking aggrieved.

"What about you?" Finrod asked with a slight smile.

"Well, everyone else gets a talking to, why not me?" he asked in childish effrontery.

Irmo smiled broadly and Námo actually chuckled, while the other adults looked on in amusement. Námo then gave Finrod a pointed look. "With your permission, my lord?"

Finrod had the grace to blush, but nodded his acquiescence. Námo turned to Veryandur, who was now looking suddenly nervous, as if he realized that perhaps he should have kept quiet and therefore unnoticed. Now it was too late.

"Very well, Veryandur," Námo said, gesturing for the ellon to approach. "Let’s get this over with. As Findaráto so rightly pointed out, your dinner is getting cold."

Veryandur slid off Sador’s knees with some reluctance, but came willingly enough to stand before the Valar. At first the Fëanturi merely gazed at the ellon before them, their expressions grave, though Finrod, standing nearby, detected glints of humor and even joy in their eyes. Then Námo spoke.

"We were rather hurt that you did not see fit to introduce us to your stuffed toy," the Vala said in all seriousness. "Lord Manwë and Lady Varda were quite impressed and gratified that you would deign to introduce your companion to them."

Veryandur gave the Vala a surprised look. "Truly?"

Both Námo and Irmo nodded. Finrod stole a glance at Glorfindel and they were both hard-pressed not to start laughing. It was Sador, though, who spoke up then, speaking with all seriousness.

"Why don’t you go bring Narmollë and show him to my lords, Veryandur?"

Finrod nodded. "That’s a very good idea. Run along now," he said to Veryandur, who needed no other urging. Finrod watched with a fond look as the child ran off without bothering to give anyone a proper bow. Then, with a wicked gleam in his eyes that both Fëanturi caught, he turned to Eruanna. "And I’m sure Lord Námo and Lord Irmo would enjoy meeting Yávië as well, Eruanna."

The elleth smiled brightly and with a barely executed curtsey ran out of the pavilion just as Alassiel returned with the two older ellyn, now looking more composed. She gave Finrod a questioning look. Finrod merely smiled.

"Show and tell," was all he said as Veryandur now ran into the pavilion clutching his stuffed toy. The ellon skidded to a halt, holding out the toy to Námo. "This is Narmollë," he said, practically shoving the toy into the Vala’s face in his enthusiasm.

Eruanna skipped into the pavilion just then and went directly to Irmo, who, when introduced to the doll, bowed his head gravely. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Yávië," the Vala said, even as his brother was lifting Veryandur onto his lap and speaking quietly to the ellon about his toy.

The adult elves looked on with expressions ranging from highly amused (Finrod) to disbelieving (Gwilwileth) as the Valar continued to speak to the elflings. Somehow, without them being conscious of doing so, the other three elflings gathered around the two thrones. With the Valar gently encouraging them, they began to speak hesitantly and then with more enthusiasm about their own favorite toys, past and present.

Dinner, apparently forgotten by all, would have to wait a little longer.

****

Mellon nîn/Mellyn nîn: (Sindarin) My friend/my friends.