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In Darkness Bound  by Fiondil

35: Family Disputes

"You won’t change your mind?" Ingoldo asked, scowling at his son as the two stood in Intarion’s sitting room in the royal palace of the Vanyar.

Intarion’s expression was set. "No. Lirulin and I have made a home in the Southern Fiefdoms. It is where we prefer to live now."

"Harvesting grapes and toiling like a common laborer," Ingoldo retorted with a grimace.

"Overseeing the production of the wine and arranging for its delivery," Intarion corrected. "Truly, Atar, there is no shame in what I do."

"What you should be doing is sitting on Ingwë’s Privy Council in my stead," Ingoldo snarled. "I resigned from it for that reason, letting my brother know that I favored you to take the seat. Instead, he has his sons sharing it."

"As is only proper," Intarion retorted, becoming angry. "And if you had meant for me to take your place on the Council, you should have consulted with me first. I would have told you not to bother. When Uncle Ingwë wrote to me, telling me what you had done, he did ask if I was interested in sitting on the Council. I told him no, just as I am telling you."

"Bah!" Ingoldo exclaimed. "You are a member of the royal family. It is your duty...."

"I know my duty, Atar," Intarion interrupted with some heat. "I told Ingwë that if he truly wished for me to sit on his Council then I would accept, but only if he commanded me as High King and not as the head of our family."

Tense silence reigned between father and son as they stood facing each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, though, Ingoldo grimaced. "When did you develop a backbone?" he muttered angrily, then stalked out of the room, leaving a nonplused Intarion behind.

He was not alone for long, for the door opened and Tinwetariel entered, her expression one of disgust. "So, you still refuse your atar’s wishes and mine."

"You wish for the wrong things, Amillë," Intarion said stiffly. "You wish for what will never be. My life is with Lirulin and I will not have her living here where you can poison our happiness with your disdain for her and her family." He gave her a sardonic smile. "Besides, I would think you and Atar are busy enough dealing with Nolondur now that he is on Uncle Ingwë’s Council."

Tinwetariel gave him a hateful look. "You are no son of mine," she snarled before turning and leaving, slamming the door behind her.

For a time Intarion simply stood there, his eyes closed at the sudden pain he felt from his amillë’s rejection. It was not the first time she had said something like that to him, and he should be used to it by now, but it still hurt. The argument with his atar was one they had had ever since the wedding nearly two years ago. Ingoldo always asked the same question and he always gave the same answer. He sighed, feeling that it would never end.

He heard the door softly opening and looked to see Indil there, an expression of concern on her fair face. "How fare you, Cousin?" she asked as Intarion gestured for her to take a seat.

He sighed, going to a sideboard to pour them some wine before sitting on the settee beside her. "Not very well," he admitted.

"They still won’t accept your decision," Indil said.

"It’s the same old argument," Intarion replied after taking a sip of the wine, one of Nolondur’s best reds.

"We miss you, you know," Indil said softly. "The twins and I and everyone else. We miss you both."

He gave her a rueful smile and put an arm around her shoulders to hug her. "I know, and we miss all of you as well, but I will not allow my parents to come near Lirulin. They would poison her with their contempt."

Indil shook her head. "It is so odd," she mused. "I have never known any of our people to act this way toward their own children. I really do not understand them."

"I gave up doing so a long time ago," Intarion said, grimacing into his goblet before taking a large gulp. "I think it has more to do with my atar and yours and their relationship. Atar has ever felt slighted because he was not chosen by Lord Oromë as our people’s ambassador."

"I know," Indil said with a nod. "But truly, do you think your atar would be any different than he is had he been chosen? I do not mean to disparage him in any way...." she hastened to add but Intarion shook his head.

"You do not," he replied. "I suspect that Atar was always like this to one degree or another. Perhaps Lord Oromë saw this, saw that if Atar were made ambassador that he would lord it over the rest of us." He paused for a second or two, and sighed. "I hate to say this, but it’s true: I do not think Atar would have made a very good High King. I think Lord Oromë chose wisely and well when he chose your atar to be our ambassador."

"I am sorry," Indil said sincerely. Intarion just shrugged. Then, wishing to change the subject, Indil forced herself to brighten. "I did not have a chance to tell you earlier, but we received a letter from Findaráto."

"Oh? And what does he have to say?" Intarion asked with a fond smile.

"Lord Aulë has given his permission for our cousin to return to Tirion permanently," she answered.

"Well, that is good news," Intarion said, looking more cheerful. "That means Lirulin and I will be able to visit him more often. When does he leave Valmar, did he say?"

Indil shook her head. "He only said that Lord Aulë promised he would be able to return before the year’s end."

"Hmmm.... well, I will make a point of stopping in Valmar to speak with him," Intarion said, pursing his lips. "I did not bother to do so on my way to Vanyamar because I knew Atto Nolondur needed me here sooner rather than later, but I can certainly stop on my way back to the Southern Fiefdoms. If you or anyone else would like to write to him, I would gladly act as courier."

Indil smiled. "That would be fine. I know Ingwion wished to write to him."

"And speaking of Ingwion, how is Ingalaurë?" Intarion asked.

Indil gave him a puzzled look, not sure what her cousin was implying, but then she caught the considering look he gave her and understood. "He has been grousing about having to turn over the Council seat to Ingwion."

Intarion frowned. "I noticed a slight coolness between them," he said. "It saddens me for I know how very close the two are."

Indil sighed. "I almost wish you had agreed to take the Council seat," she said. "It would have made things easier. Ingwion hates sitting on the Council and Ingil loves it too much, I fear."

"How does your atar feel about it?" Intarion asked. "I haven’t really had a chance to speak with him lately."

The daughter of the High King shrugged. "He has said very little either way, except to point out the fact that the twins had agreed to the arrangement. I think Ingwion would be happy to let Ingil remain on the Council and not be bothered by it, but I know Atar will not allow it."

"It seems that my atar’s decision to leave the Council has made things worse rather than better," Intarion opined.

"Perhaps that was his plan all along," Indil offered, looking a little hesitant as she spoke.

Intarion gave her a surprised look. "Do you think so?"

"It’s possible," she averred. "I think Uncle Ingoldo stepped down when he did knowing full well that you would not take his place unless directly ordered to by Atar and he knew Atar would never do that to you, or anyone, for that matter."

"Yet, it does not necessarily follow that your atar would have decided as he did," Intarion pointed out reasonably. "He could well have chosen one of the other nobles who was eligible to sit on the Council." He gave her a sly smile. "He could well have chosen you, you know."

Indil barked a laugh. "Hah! Atar knows better than to do something so foolish," she retorted and the two cousins broke out in laughter.

When they had calmed down a bit, Intarion sighed. "I am sorry, though, that Ingil is being difficult. Perhaps if I were to speak to him...."

"No, that wouldn’t work," Indil said. "You’re younger than he is, he’s not going to listen to anything you have to say and I’m even younger. No. We will just have to hope that Ingil sees reason and does not cause dissension in the Council."

"What about Tam?" Intarion asked. "He and the twins are close, I know. Would he be able to help?"

"I have thought to ask him what he thinks about it all," Indil admitted. "Perhaps he will be able to talk some sense to my brother."

"Well, I will be here for a few more days finishing up some business for Atto Nolondur," Intarion said. "Let me know if I can be of any help."

"I will, thank you," Indil replied, leaning over to give him a cousinly kiss, then stood, holding out her hands and smiling. "Now, why don’t we go see if we can find the twins and do something fun."

Intarion smiled back as he rose. "Like old times, heh?"

Indil nodded as they made their way to the door. "Like old times."

****

Ingwion glared at his twin. "Are you really that in love with power, Brother, that you resent having to give it up even temporarily?" The two of them were in the family’s private sitting room.

Ingalaurë glared back. "It has nothing to do with power," he retorted angrily.

"Then what?" Ingwion insisted.

Now Ingalaurë hesitated, looking both mulish and uncertain. "It’s... it’s the prestige."

Ingwion stared at his brother in surprise. "Prestige? Ingil, you’re the son of the Ingaran. How much prestige do you want?"

"I’m the younger son," Ingalaurë rejoined.

"You are Atto’s haryon along with me, in case you’ve forgotten," Ingwion insisted.

"How can we both be Atto’s heir?" his twin demanded. "If he ever decides to step down from the throne, what then? Do you think we’ll share the crown as well?" He gave his brother a sneer. "You know as well as I that you will be the one as the first-born to become the new Ingaran. At least being on the Privy Council gives me some status beyond being the younger son."

Ingwion shook his head in disbelief. "I cannot believe I am hearing this from you," he said. "You sound almost like Uncle Ingoldo."

Ingalaurë’s face paled with fury, his hands clenched in tight fists. "I am nothing like Uncle Ingoldo!" he nearly shouted. "You take that back!"

Now Ingwion became alarmed. The last time he had seen his twin in this state they had been elflings. "Ingil, what’s come over you? Calm down." He grabbed his twin’s shoulders to give him a shake but when Ingalaurë tried to push away, he simply wrapped his arms around him and hugged him close. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Of course you’re not like Uncle, but I just don’t understand why you resent having to step down from the Council seat. We agreed to this."

For a long moment there was only the sound of Ingalaurë’s harsh breathing as he attempted to get his emotions under control. Finally, in a small voice he said, "The whole time you were on the Council, people came to you to consult with you about policy or to ask for a favor. No one paid any attention to me, no one came to me. I might as well have been invisible. Then, when you stepped down and I took over, I thought, ‘Now people will come to me with their problems and I will be able to help them’. Only they didn’t, not at first. They kept coming to you."

"And I kept telling them that I was no longer on the Council and they would have to speak with you, instead," Ingwion rejoined gently.

Ingalaurë pushed himself out of his brother’s embrace, his expression still one of anger. "But don’t you see? You had to send them to me. They didn’t come to me on their own, not at first. They... they had to be reminded that I even existed and you were the one that had to tell them."

"Oh, Ingil, that’s not true," Ingwion insisted. "People get so used to things being one way that they have a hard time adjusting to new circumstances. Don’t you remember how often people still came to Uncle Ingoldo even after I was already on the Council? I didn’t get upset about it. In fact, I found it rather amusing watching Uncle fume about it. I think now that everyone has gotten used to the idea of the two of us sharing the Council seat they will come to both of us."

Ingalaurë sighed. "I suppose," he averred reluctantly, not looking at his brother. "I just wish I didn’t have to wait a whole year before... before people remember I’m even alive."

"Oh, Ingil, please don’t talk like that," Ingwion pleaded, giving his twin another fierce hug and a kiss on his brow. "I think having to endure those wretched meetings for a whole year is too long myself. I honestly don’t know how Atto puts up with it and he’s been doing this since forever!"

Ingalaurë chuckled at the hyperbole and Ingwion grinned, pleased that he had been able to diffuse his brother’s temper.

"I’ve been thinking of asking Atto if we can alternate every half year," he added. "I resent having to put aside my own interests for so long."

Ingalaurë gave him a measuring look. "You really hate it that much?" he asked suspiciously.

Ingwion nodded. "Yes, I do, though I do my best not to show it, especially to Atto. I know how much he depends on me, on both of us, in these troubling times."

"I suppose waiting a half a year wouldn’t be so bad," Ingalaurë admitted somewhat reluctantly.

"Why don’t we speak with Atto about it, then?" Ingwion suggested. "I don’t think he would object to the idea."

"Object to what?"

They turned to see Ingwë entering the room, giving them both a considering look.

"We were talking about asking you to reconsider us sharing the Council seat every other year," Ingwion explained. "We were thinking of doing it every half year. We both think a whole year is too long." Ingalaurë nodded in agreement.

Ingwë furrowed his brow in thought, taking in the paleness of the younger twin, recognizing the signs. "Hmm... I actually came looking for you both," he said, deciding not to respond to his sons’ pleas.

"Oh?" both twins said almost at the same time and Ingwë hid a smile.

"Yes," he said with a nod as he gestured for them to take a seat even as he sat himself. "I have been receiving reports about conditions in Tirion which do not seem to be improving. Ñolofinwë appears reluctant to ask for help, either from me or from Olwë or even the Valar."

"He probably feels that if he calls for help it means he is not fit to rule," Ingwion offered and Ingwë nodded.

"At any rate, I think it’s time I took a more active approach. I need someone in Tirion whom I can trust to tell me what is going on without hedging or embellishing the truth. The reports I am getting are conflicting and I am forced to sift through them to ascertain what is happening there."

"So, what are you thinking of doing?" Ingalaurë asked, looking a bit confused as to why his atar was telling them this. Ingwion’s own expression was also one of confusion.

"I have decided I want someone inside the Noldóran’s palace, to act as a liaison between me and Ñolofinwë," Ingwë answered. "I was wondering if either of you would be interested in the role."

The twins looked at each other then back at Ingwë. "What would this entail?" Ingwion asked.

"In a way, you would be acting as my ambassador to the court of the Noldóran, or rather, to Ñolowfinwë’s court as regent to Finwë. You will represent the interests of the Vanyar and in particular my interest as Ingaran. At the same time, you will be in a position to gather the information I need to act effectively as High King."

"You mean, be a spy?" Ingalaurë asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"I mean, act as my ambassador," Ingwë reiterated firmly. "Part of an ambassador’s role is information gathering. Valandur has people in place in the palace, but they are low status people within the government and servants and they are not always privy to sensitive information. It is more likely that Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë will confide in you simply because you are kin, never mind being my ambassador." He paused for a moment to let the twins digest what he had said before continuing. "It is a heavy responsibility and I will understand if you have any reluctance in agreeing to it, which is why I am asking rather than appointing. I do not care which of you goes, for you both have my confidence."

"And what of the one who stays?" Ingalaurë asked. "What of him?"

"He will necessarily have to remain on my Privy Council more or less permanently, or at least until the time of exile is over and Finwë returns to Tirion. After that, we will have to see. Nothing is certain in these uncertain times."

Both twins nodded. "When do you need our answer?" Ingwion asked.

"I will give you time to think it over and discuss it between yourselves," Ingwë replied, "but I would like your answer by next Valanya. Intarion will be leaving the day after and I thought to send whichever of you agrees to accept the ambassadorial position with him."

"So soon!" Ingalaurë exclaimed. "That doesn’t give us much time."

"I know," Ingwë acknowledged, "but to delay in sending one of you is pointless, as I think you can agree." Both twins nodded.

"We will let you know before Valanya," Ingwion said.

"Thank you," Ingwë said with grave sincerity. He stood and the twins rose as well. Ingwë opened his arms and the two ellyn fell into his embrace. "I love you both and I am very proud of you both. Do not ever doubt my love or my pride in you, either of you." He kissed them on their foreheads, being careful to give Ingalaurë a kiss first, which seemed to mollify the ellon.

"Thank you, Atto," they said, almost at the same time as Ingwë released them from his embrace, giving them both fond smiles.

The door opened just then to reveal Indil and Intarion. "Are we interrupting?" Indil asked, eyeing her atar and the twins with some concern.

"No, Daughter," Ingwë said with a smile, "you are not. As it is, I have to go hunt down Valandur, so I will leave you children to your own devices."

"Why do you have to hunt down Valandur?" Intarion asked in confusion. "Shouldn’t you just be able to send for him? You are the king, after all."

Ingwë gave them a conspiratorial smile. "But what’s the fun of that?" he asked rhetorically, and exited the room, leaving the younger Elves standing there in bemusement.

After a moment, Ingwion spoke. "So, what are you two up to?"

Indil answered, "We came to find you and see about doing something fun. Intarion will be leaving soon, so...."

"Sounds like a good idea," Ingwion said with a nod. "I can do with something fun right about now. How about you, Ingil?"

The younger twin nodded. "Like old times?" he asked with a sly grin.

"Like old times," the other three echoed, laughing.





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