133: An Evening’s Discussion

That evening, after dinner, the Amanians gathered as usual in the townhouse’s library, which did not actually contain any books — "No point having them in a building where no one actually lives," Ingwë had said when Sador had commented on this lack — though that was its designation. There were a few maps of Valinor stored in this room — "Woefully out of date," Arafinwë had confessed to Finrod when he discovered them — and some curios of dubious origin sitting on the shelves gathering dust — "I think they’re some of Fëanáro’s earliest artistic attempts as an elfling," Arafinwë had stated with an indifferent shrug when Glorfindel had pointed them out — but that was about it. Its main virtue was its size: it could comfortably seat twice the number of people who were presently occupying it.

Besides the royal families, Sador, Beleg, Amarië and Alassiel were also there, along with Eärendil, Elwing, Glorfindel and Falmaron. Herendil and Aldundil were present as well, though they would return later to Lady Nienna’s where the rest of their family was staying until Vondo was recovered. Laurendil had retired shortly after dinner, admitting to extreme fatigue, while Galdor, Legolas, Hendor and the other delegates from Aewellond had gone back to Valmar to renew acquaintances with the Tol Eressëans. Some of the Amanians who were not gathered in the library had joined them or were off pursuing their own pleasures elsewhere. The elflings were safely in the nursery under the watchful eye of Mistress Luhtana.

As was his custom once everyone was settled in their favorite chair with goblets of wine or cider in their hands, Ingwë asked if anyone had any comments about the day’s events. Finrod was the first to speak, addressing himself to Herendil and Aldundil.

"Vondo was asking about Selmacas and wanting to know who Calalindalë was," he told them.

"What did you tell him?" Herendil enquired.

"Nothing," Finrod replied. "Vorondil, however, told him that Calalindalë was his amillë."

Both Herendil and Aldundil sighed. "Luckily, though, we were able to divert Vondo’s attention before he started asking more questions," Finrod said.

"How did you manage that?" Aldundil asked.

Finrod smiled. "By speaking Sindarin."

"Oh?"

"Glorfindel said something and I responded in Sindarin," Finrod explained. "Vondo got all excited because he realized he understood what I’d said and wanted us to speak some more to him. It ended up becoming a game."

"Thank the Valar," Aldundil said fervently.

"He’s not going to forget, though," Glorfindel reminded them. "He’s going to continue asking questions. He’s going to have to be told the truth eventually."

"Yes, but not this soon," Herendil said. "He’s just newly Reborn."

"And perhaps this is the best time for you to tell him," Glorfindel rejoined, "when he has no emotional connection to either Selmacas or Calalindalë. Well, to Calalindalë, at least," he amended with a wry grin. "I’m sure he has plenty of emotional connections to Selmacas now." The others all groaned in response to the pun and Sador, sitting next to him, punched him playfully in the arm. "At any rate," he continued when they were all calmer, "when those emotions eventually surface he will already know what has happened and will be able to put them into perspective."

"Perhaps," Herendil averred reluctantly, sighing. "I just hate to see his innocence lost so soon."

"Selmacas’ attack put pay to that," Finrod said with a snort. "You underestimate your son. His emotional responses may be in question but not his intelligence. He knows we’re all hiding something from him."

"You may wish to consult with Lord Irmo and Lady Estë about this," Arafinwë suggested. "They probably have a firmer understanding of Vondo’s ability to handle the news than you."

Herendil nodded. "I will consult with them tomorrow before the morning session."

"And speaking of morning," Arafinwë said, turning to Eärendil, "should you not have sailed long before this? Vingilot is the Evening Star this time of year, after all."

"And did you not notice her shining brightly even as we went to sup?" Eärendil rejoined with a complacent smile. "I usually do not sail Vingilot at night, not since the Valar created the planet that simulates the brightness of the Silmaril." He gestured with his hand towards the circlet on his head where the Silmaril lay shining mutely in the candlelight.

"Do you wear that all the time?" Beleg asked, pointing at the crown.

"No, I do not," Eärendil answered. "At home the Silmaril is placed in a special container until I need it to fly Vingilot. Since there’s nowhere here that I can safely place it, I will wear it during our stay here."

"Unless you give it into the safekeeping of the Valar," Ingwion suggested.

"They will not accept it, even for so short a time," Eärendil explained, "else I would have given it to Lady Yavanna for safekeeping from the very start. Indeed, as most of you know, when I came before the Valar, I tried to do just that, but she refused to take it. No. For better or worse, I am its guardian and to me falls the burden of safekeeping it."

There was a brief pause while people digested this and then Ingwë spoke. "You were telling us about flying Vingilot."

Eärendil nodded. "I only sail at those times when the Valar wish to increase the brightness of Tancol for some reason or during the day when Anar’s light hides even the Silmaril from your sight. At those times, I act as Lord Manwë’s spy." He laughed at the disbelieving looks of the others. "My crew and I observe what is happening in the Outer Lands and I report to Lord Manwë what we have witnessed. He says that the Eagles are not always able to understand what they are seeing, intelligent creatures though they are, for they are not as we."

"So you do not sail except when Lord Manwë decrees?" Ingwë asked.

"That is correct. You do know, of course, that our world is not flat, don’t you?" Eärendil said.

"Of course," Ingwë snorted with unconcealed disdain. "We are the pupils of the Valar after all and are aware of the structure of Arda to the outermost rim."

Eärendil nodded. "I often sail to the other side of the world where Mortals dwell who have little knowledge of the Middle Lands, for there appears to be only sporadic trade between them and the peoples of the South and East. Most live in primitive villages and there are few cities worthy of the name. Lord Manwë suspects that the Maia who was once known as Aulendil and is now called Sauron fled to those regions and has begun to raise an army against the West."

There were scowls all around. "Just what we need, another damn war!" snarled Aldundil.

Eärendil shook his head. "If it comes to that, I do not think the Valar will interfere. Sauron may be a Maia but even an Elf of sufficient power can defeat one." He nodded at Glorfindel who blushed under everyone’s regard.

"So you are saying that if Sauron does go to war against the Elves and Men who still dwell in the Outer Lands, they will have to deal with him themselves without any help from the Valar or us?" Olwë asked.

Eärendil nodded, though he did not appear happy. "I am not in the confidence of the Valar but based on what has been said in my presence, and more importantly, what has not been said, I think they’ve decided that any future conflicts are for those of Endórë to deal with. There will be no direct interference on the part of the Valar." The emphasis on ‘direct’ caused many there to nod in understanding.

"Well, I suspect we’ll be seeing an increase in the number of elves sailing if war does come upon them," Finrod said with a sigh. "That will make life more interesting for the Tol Eressëans."

"To say the very least," Ingwë replied with a tight smile. "And more interesting for us if we do not resolve the conflicts which plague that island now. If we receive an influx of refugees it will merely make matters worse unless we have a firm government in place to deal with them."

There were nods all around. "It’s clear that a two-tiered government is what they want," Sador said. "The only real question remaining is how the Assembly will be ruled and by whom."

"What are your thoughts about it, Sador?" Arafinwë asked in curiosity.

The ellon looked startled. "Me? Why are you asking me? I’m just an observer and Finrod’s aide, though he never seems to need any." He stuck his tongue out at Finrod who replied in kind, setting everyone else chuckling at their antics.

"Nevertheless, I would hear your thoughts," Arafinwë said. "You, Finrod and Beleg are all Reborn. Do you agree with Brethorn’s assessment of the situation?"

There was a moment of silence and Sador shrugged. "I have had little experience with the kinds of problems most Reborn seem to have with the... er... Once-born, and I suspect it’s because of my standing in your court, Atya," he said, smiling shyly at Arafinwë.

"I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere," Arafinwë said with a knowing look and Sador nodded, blushing slightly.

"I have had my own run-ins with some who are less understanding than most, and I spoke with many Reborn while we were on Tol Eressëa and listened to their stories. I’ve seen the way some of you have reacted to the Reborn here, the way they seem to make a game out of everything, and you consider them to be no better than overgrown elflings. Yet, Brethorn and others like him were released from Mandos even earlier than Finrod and no one treats him the same way."

"That’s because I’m haryon to the Noldóran," Finrod replied with a thin smile, "and they wouldn’t dare, but in actual fact, I was treated with more disdain when I first returned to Tirion than either you or Glorfindel have experienced. I paved the way for you and the other Reborn to find acceptance among the Noldor, just as I suspect Falmaron was meant to do among the Teleri, only he managed to succeed in running away, while I ended up nearly getting myself killed all over again for my trouble."

"Mánatamir said I was Atto’s final lesson," Falmaron said quietly in the lull that followed Finrod’s words.

Olwë sighed deeply and his eyes were shadowed with regret as Lirillë reached for him and the two huddled together on the settee where they were sitting.

"At any rate," Sador continued softly, "I think the Reborn are here to teach everyone."

"Teach us what?" Lindarion demanded. "Teach us to forgive what was done to us, to you?"

"No," Sador replied. "To teach you to accept what was done."

"Sador is correct, Lindarion," Beleg said, entering the conversation for the first time. "Forgiveness is something that cannot be forced upon you. It’s something you have to come to on your own, but the first step towards forgiveness is acceptance. You need to accept that these things happened, that your brother was murdered, that he himself may have even killed in defense of others. And beyond that, you need to accept that your brother holds no animosity towards the one who slew him, or even to the fact that he died at all."

"It’s all so easy for you...."

"Of course it’s easy for us," Falmaron said with a snort. "We’ve had the benefit of being counseled by Lord Námo himself. Our fëar have been purged of whatever hatred we may have harbored towards our slayers or of the fact that we died at all."

"Well, I never hated that stupid balrog," Glorfindel said with a virtuous sniff.

"No, you only hated the fact that your pretty hair got all burned up," Sador retorted with a wicked grin.

Before anyone knew what was happening, Glorfindel launched himself at Sador, toppling them both to the floor, Sador’s chair splintering beneath him. Alassiel cried out Sador’s name even as Finrod and Eärendil were dragging a snarling Glorfindel off of the ellon while Arafinwë knelt to see how hurt Sador was.

"That’s enough from you, Glorfindel," Eärendil shouted, angrily shaking the golden-haired ellon. "Be still or I’ll send you back to Aewellond."

That threat seemed to work, for the ellon simmered down. "He had no right to make fun of my hair," he muttered.

Eärendil and Finrod exchanged exasperated looks, the Mariner rolling his eyes. "Elflings," he muttered and Finrod hid a smile as he led Glorfindel back to his chair, pushing him down and standing over him. "What has gotten into you, gwador?" he asked him softly, speaking Sindarin. "Sador meant nothing by his words. He was only teasing."

"He was making fun of me," Glorfindel answered with a glower.

Finrod turned a helpless look at Ingwë who seemed more amused than anything as he stood up. "I’ll handle him," he whispered to Finrod who gave him a grateful look as he went to see how Sador was doing. He was not surprised to see Alassiel there helping Arafinwë.

"I’m all right, Atya," Sador said, wincing slightly. "It’s just a bump and nothing’s broken."

"You let me be the judge of that, hinya," Arafinwë said softly as he ran practiced hands over Sador’s body and checked his head. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked.

"I can’t count that high," Sador quipped as he tried to rise, but Alassiel gently pushed him back into a supine position.

"Honestly, Sador, this is no time for jokes," she said with some anger. "Now stop acting the idiot and answer the question."

Sador reddened under the reprimand. "Two. You’re holding up two fingers. Happy now?" This last was directed at Alassiel who leaned down and gave him a kiss which seemed to mollify the ellon, for he answered Arafinwë’s other medical questions without being flippant.

"I think you should retire for the night," Arafinwë suggested as he and Alassiel helped Sador to his feet, "but I know you don’t want to be left out of anything."

"I’ll just sit here with Alassiel and Amarië and be quiet," Sador said and that was agreeable to Arafinwë who directed the servants, whom Aldundil had called in, to remove the broken chair.

Meanwhile, Ingwë was crouched beside a still glowering Glorfindel. "You seemed so mature when you showed up today with Lord Eärendil," he said with a smile, "I almost didn’t recognize you. I’m glad to see you’re still acting the elfling every now and then."

Glorfindel looked at Ingwë in surprise, his anger forgotten. "Why?" he asked in confusion.

"Because that’s what made me love you in the first place," Ingwë answered with a chuckle. "There you were, a grown elf acting like a put-upon adolescent in front of my entire court, practically insulting me. How could I not love you at that very moment? You were like a breath of fresh air. I’d forgotten how volatile the emotions of elflings could be."

"Sorry," Glorfindel muttered, looking contrite.

Ingwë nodded. "As well you should be," he replied, "but I’m not the one who needs to hear your apology."

Glorfindel sighed and nodded, standing up. Ingwë rose as well and resumed his own seat while Glorfindel went over to where Sador was now sitting, nursing a goblet of cider, for Arafinwë forbade him to have any wine. He held a cold cloth, which Amarië had given him, to the back of his head. Sador looked up at Glorfindel, his expression somewhat apprehensive.

"I’m sorry I made fun of your hair," he said before Glorfindel could speak.

"And I’m sorry I attacked you," Glorfindel said. "Friends?"

"Brothers," Sador corrected, giving him a nod.

"Come sit with me, dear," Eärwen said to Glorfindel and the ellon complied, bringing his chair over to where Eärwen was sitting.

"Well now that the excitement is over," Ingwë said as he nodded his thanks to Ingwion who had replenished his atar’s goblet, "what were we discussing?"

"Forgiveness and acceptance," Olwë replied with a sardonic smile.

"Actually, I am more interested in hearing Sador’s thoughts about the constitution of the Assembly," Eärendil said. "He never did get to answer the question as we got sidetracked."

All eyes turned to Sador who shrugged, grimacing at the pain. "I think an outsider is what is needed," he answered. "Someone with no real ties to anyone on Tol Eressëa, yet is sympathetic to their plight."

"You certainly don’t think someone from Aman should rule, do you?" Alassiel asked. "I doubt very much that any of the Tol Eressëans will want a Noldo or a Teler heading the Assembly."

"What about a Vanya?" Ingwion asked, fingering his ruby ring in an absent-minded way.

"I don’t know," Alassiel admitted. "We Vanyar have stayed out of the affairs of the other clans and especially out of Tol Eressëa, but I cannot claim neutrality in this. My own atar died for the sake of those of Beleriand and it’s taken me much time to come to terms with his death. For a long time I blamed you, Uncle," Alassiel said, addressing Ingwë, who did not appear surprised by her words.

"I know you did, child," he said. "Nor did I blame you for blaming me. I blamed myself as well. Intarion only went because I refused to allow Ingwion to lead the Vanyar. I know your ammë would have preferred Intarion to stay as well." He glanced over at Lirulin sitting serenely near her daughter.

"He wanted to go," Lirulin said. "He vowed a long time ago that someday he would complete the journey to the Outer Lands that we had begun."

"What do you mean, ammë?" Alassiel asked, clearly puzzled.

Lirulin shook her head, smiling at her daughter. "It doesn’t matter," she replied. "I’ll tell you the story someday. For now, let us concentrate on what is happening now. I think having a Vanya at the head of this Assembly might cause its own brand of problems but certainly we Vanyar can be seen as being more neutral than the other two clans with respect to the Tol Eressëans."

"More neutral, I grant you," Eärendil said, "but not necessarily more sympathetic. Forgive me, but the Vanyar have always struck me as being stand-offish, wishing to have nothing to do with the other clans. In the few instances where I have had to deal with the Vanyar I have gotten the feeling that most look down on everyone else, the Noldor for rebelling against the Valar and the Teleri for ignoring the Valar altogether and the Tol Eressëans for simply existing."

"That accusation was certainly valid once," Ingwë averred, "but attitudes have been changing slowly over time. I will admit that I had my own reasons for wanting to see the Noldor, all of them, gone and out of our hair. They seemed to be born to be trouble and every problem that cropped up could conveniently, if not truthfully, be laid at their feet. It took time for me to see beyond that." He stole a glance at Ingwion, who sat there still fiddling with his ring, but the ellon’s expression was untroubled and he flashed his atar a brief smile.

"Well, what about you taking over?" Sador asked Eärendil with a sly look.

Eärendil’s eyebrows went up. "Me? Whyever would I want to rule over the Tol Eressëans?"

"Well, you were the lord of the refugees at Sirion," Sador replied.

"A poor lord I made, never being there," Eärendil snorted with self-contempt. "I doubt anyone would want me now. Besides, I’m content to rule at Aewellond and I know Elwing does not wish to leave there for any length of time." He gave his wife a fond smile and she leaned over to give him a kiss.

"Still, Sador’s suggestion does have its merits," Glorfindel said, giving Sador a smile. "The people at Aewellond are all from Tol Eressëa originally. They don’t seem to have any trouble accepting you as their lord and many of them I know were at the Havens." He shrugged. "Seems to me that would solve a lot of problems."

"Except that, even if everyone on the island begged me, I still would not do it," Eärendil said. "You know as well as I what Aewellond is meant to be. I will not desert the people there who look to me and Elwing for guidance. We have a purpose there and I don’t think the Valar will wish for me to put it aside."

"Yet, you are not the only one who can lead the people of Aewellond and train the warriors as they must be," Glorfindel pointed out in a reasonable tone. "Nor do I see this as a permanent thing. I sincerely believe that someday one of the kings of Beleriand will rule in Tol Eressëa. Until then, whoever ends up heading the Assembly will be more like a Steward than anything else."

"A Ruling Steward?" Finrod asked, looking dubious. "And when this hypothetical king does arrive, what then? Will this Steward give up his or her power so easily?"

"That remains to be seen," Glorfindel said with a shrug, then gave them a sly look. "Perhaps by the time a king shows up, the Steward will be more than willing to hand over the reins of government after dealing with the likes of Morcocáno and Galadhwen for yéni."

There were chuckles from the others at that.

"I feel sorry for anyone who ends up taking that role," Amarië said. "It will be a thankless job however you want to look at it."

"Indeed," Ingwë said with a sigh. "It appears we are at an impasse. Most of the delegates seem to believe that having someone from outside Tol Eressëa head the Assembly to be the best solution, but I deem that anyone put forth as a candidate will not be found acceptable to the majority for one reason or another."

"Then they will have to find someone among themselves to head the Assembly and perhaps set it up so that if that person proves unworthy of the position, then he or she can be removed and another put in their place," Olwë said. "I myself do not care which route these people take. However they wish to set up their government is fine by me. I will deal with whoever leads them with all courtesy and respect, whoever they are."

"Well, we’ll see what is decided tomorrow," Ingwë said. "In the meantime, it grows late and we will not solve this conundrum tonight." He rose and held his hand out to Elindis and the two tendered their good-nights and left, signaling the end of the discussion.

Herendil and Aldundil also made their farewells and left soon after. Others began to drift away, either to retire for the evening or to gather in more intimate groups to sing and tell stories. Glorfindel suggested to Sador that they go to the Laughing Vala for a while and they were joined by Finrod, Amarië, Alassiel, Ingwion and Lindarion. Arafinwë agreed to the plan so long as Sador promised to refrain from drinking anything alcoholic.

"And if you have the slightest headache or are feeling dizzy, you are to tell Findaráto and come back here immediately," the king admonished and Sador agreed.

As it happened, they only stayed at the inn for about an hour or so, for Sador kept nodding over his cider, much to everyone else’s amusement, so the others finished up their drinks and they returned to the townhouse around midnight.