55: The Queen’s Council

At Elindis’ bidding, Ingalaurë resumed his seat just as one of the kitchen maids entered the dining room to announce that the meal the queen had ordered was ready to be served.

"Very well," Elindis said. "I think we will dispense with formality and treat this as we do our first meal of the day. Have the dishes set up at the sideboard and we will serve ourselves."

The maid curtsied and left. Elindis turned to Ingalaurë. "I know you are reluctant to go against your atar’s wishes but would you do the honor of ringing the cloister bell, my son?"

Ingalaurë hesitated for a moment, then rose and gave her a bow, picking up one of the candles on the table and smiling. "I’ll be right back. Don’t start without me."

The others laughed lightly even as he left the room and made his way down a flight of stairs to the ground floor, then he took a labyrinthine route through the palace complex until he came to a short corridor that turned out to be a covered walk which opened up on one side into a small grassy courtyard tucked into a forgotten corner of the palace. This was an intimate place, barely twenty paces across. There was only the one entrance to it and no windows looked down upon it. It was completely secluded. A single bench was built along the wall opposite the colonnade. The center of the courtyard was taken up by a tower of woven vines rising about twelve feet. At the top of the tower was a single bell. A rope hung down so it could be rung. One needed to slip between the vines to enter the tower. No one quite understood its purpose and Ingwë never explained why he wished for it to be built. Ingalaurë could not remember if he’d ever come to this place except for the one time his atar had brought him and Ingwion when they were elflings to show them the tower and the bell, warning them not to touch it or to play there.

"I show you this place so you know that it exists and know also that you are not to come here without my permission, mine and no one else’s," his atar had told them. The twins were old enough at the time to know from their atar’s expression and tone of voice that this was one command they should never disobey.

Until now.

He stopped before the tower rising darkly with the stars ablaze above it and shivered. To the best of his knowledge he could not remember if the bell had ever been rung. The cloister seemed a pointless folly, a mere indulgence on his atar’s part, yet, there were times when he knew his atar would come here to meditate. When he did, all knew better than to disturb his solitude. Sometimes Elindis would join him, but never anyone else.

Shaking his head, Ingalaurë went over to the bench and placed the candle on it before slipping between the vines. In spite of the near darkness, for the candlelight barely penetrated the leafy walls of the tower, he saw that the bellrope was tied to one of the vines. He reached up, undid the rope and pulled. The bell’s tone was sweet, a little deeper than a treble bell but not too deep. He pulled a second time and a third and then stilled the rope, listening to the echoes of the bell ringing away, wondering how far it could be heard. He imagined that for those not expecting to hear the bell, it would come as a shock.

Securing the rope, he retrieved his candle and made his way back through the palace to the royal apartments and found that he was the last to arrive. Stepping inside he spied Ingoldo and Tinwetariel standing with some others from the Privy Council speaking in low tones. Elindis, when she saw him enter, rose and all conversations stopped.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "Please help yourselves to something to eat. We will have our meeting once everyone has eaten. Ingoldo, why don’t you and Tinwetariel begin?"

If his uncle was surprised by Elindis’ request, Ingoldo did not show it, merely giving her a slight bow and leading Tinwetariel to the head of the buffet. Servants were on hand to see that all had what they wished and when all were seated — Elindis, Ingalaurë and Indil were the last to serve themselves — the queen stood and everyone gave her their attention.

"We are gathered here in this hour of darkness to discuss the continuing welfare of our people," Elindis said. "Whatever your personal differences, I beg you to put them aside for now and concentrate on the task at hand. I would that my lord and husband returns to find a city at peace and his people calm. The High King." She lifted her goblet and everyone echoed her toast and drank, though Ingalaurë noticed his uncle hesitating slightly before joining with the rest. "Now, let us enjoy this repast and then we will discuss matters."

Elindis sat and everyone began eating, speaking in low tones. Conversations seemed to center around the events of four days past when the Trees were destroyed and there was speculation as to what the Valar might be doing and when the High King would be returning. Ingalaurë sat and listened to the various conversations but did not enter into them, idly pushing his food around his plate as he kept what he hoped was a surreptitious eye on Ingoldo, who appeared relaxed and even congenial as he conversed with Lord Lassezel and Lady Almáriel. Only when his ammë leaned over and gently told him to stop playing with his food, did he actually start eating, blushing slightly at the reprimand.

Finally, the meal ended. Trenchers were removed, tea was served, as were mulled wine and cider, and small dainties were placed before them. Once the servants were dismissed, Elindis spoke.

"While my lord husband is away, it is imperative that we see to it that the city remains calm and that we make every effort to regain some semblance of normalcy in our lives. We need to establish the state of the farms and orchards which supply us with food. Without the Light of the Trees it is likely that our crops are already dying unless the Valar have taken measures to protect them. We need to find a way to tell time in a uniform manner so everyone in the city will know what the hour is. We need to ascertain how our people are coping with this tremendous loss. Many are probably still in a state of deep shock and they need to be tended to. I doubt that any of us, myself included, can honestly say that we have not been affected by what as happened, yet we must put aside our grief and our fear and work together to ensure the safekeeping of the city and its inhabitants."

"Is there any news of the High King?" Tamurilon asked. "Do we know when he will return?"

Elindis shook her head. "We have learned that Ingwë has gone to Tirion and taken Ingwion with him."

There were murmurs of surprise and consternation among them. "Why have they gone to Tirion?" Lassezel demanded angrily. "What reason do they have to go to those troublemakers when he’s needed here?"

"My question exactly," Ingoldo said before Elindis could answer. "Ever since Fëanáro and Finwë went to Formenos my brother has spent more time in Tirion than he has in his own city among his own people. Now, when we need him the most, to lead us out of this darkness, where is he? What is he doing? Is he here, seeing to our welfare? No! He’s in Tirion, catering to the blasted Noldor. And why is that, I ask you?"

"I have it from reliable sources that Ingwë has been sent to Tirion at the behest of the Valar," Elindis answered coldly, glaring at Ingoldo. "Fëanáro has left Formenos and even now makes his way to Tirion to claim the crown. My husband is there to convince him to return to Formenos, for he is in violation of the Valar’s ban."

Ingalaurë was not the only person to raise an eyebrow at that, and he wondered where his ammë had gotten such information, information that not even Ingoldo had, for he evinced surprise along with the rest. Looking about, he saw Valandur sitting there, the only one who didn’t seem surprised at the queen’s revelation and knew that the Loremaster must have learned of it and passed it on to Elindis, probably while he was on his way to the cloister to ring the bell. That certainly made sense, since there was no other time when he could have told her.

Ingoldo sneered. "So Ingwë has become Manwë’s servant, running his errands for him? We need a king, not a thrall! If Ingwë is so eager to run to Tirion to play with the Noldor on the Valar’s behalf, then I say, let him stay there and let someone else lead the Vanyar."

"That someone being you?" Valandur asked mildly, his expression more amused and less belligerent than those of everyone else. Ingalaurë could feel himself going hot and cold at the same time and a terrible sick sensation settled in the pit of his stomach. Elindis sat unmoving, her face a mask as Ingoldo ranted.

Ingoldo’s own expression became guarded, but Ingalaurë had the sense that his uncle was playing them all for fools. "If necessary," the ellon said nonchalantly. "I am the eldest male in our family, though my brother is the one who became Ingaran."

"Ingwë charged me to rule in his place," Elindis retorted. "He told you to behave yourself."

The sting of her retort caused Ingoldo to redden but he managed to contain his anger. "An elleth ruling? Absurd." He dismissed the notion with a negligent wave of his hand. Ingalaurë noticed that some of the other male members of the Privy Council were nodding their heads at that, but they were all older and more set in their ways. There had always been kings, there always would be. The idea of any elleth, however qualified, ruling when there was a male of the line able to assume command, simply was beyond their comprehension.

"Ingwë has not abdicated his crown," Valandur said.

Ingoldo stared at him, his eyes set. "Why are you even here, Valandur? You’re not even a member of the Privy Council. You have no say in what is decided here."

"He is here at my behest," Elindis spoke up, "as mine and Ingwë’s most trusted advisor. What he says is true, Ingoldo: Ingwë has not abdicated his crown to anyone. Certainly not to you. He did however appoint me to lead our people until his return, and he will return. If he has gone to Tirion on a mission for the Valar, it was for a good reason. Fëanáro is dangerous. We all know that. If he refuses to abide by the Valar’s ban and assumes the crown, he will need to be restrained in his use of power and the only way to do that is for Ingwë to demand an oath of fealty from him, acknowledging him as Ingaran."

Ingoldo snorted in derision. "Then Ingwë will be sorely disappointed. Fëanáro would no more give him his fealty than I would... kiss Melkor."

The slight pause was barely noticeable, but Ingalaurë heard it and wondered if others did as well. Certainly Valandur must have. Ingalaurë did not think that anything would get by him, but he wasn’t sure about anyone else. He had the feeling that most of the people in the room took Ingoldo at face value and would not (or could not!) look deeper. Ingalaurë wanted to be wrong about his uncle, give him the benefit of the doubt, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

"Regardless," Elindis said coldly, "Ingwë is acting in his capacity as High King. I’m sure that once he’s settled Fëanáro to his satisfaction he will be returning to us."

"I wonder why Ingwion went with him?" Indil said.

"Perhaps because he’s lived in Tirion for some time now and knows my family quite well," Findis suggested. "I’m sure Ingwë appreciates this and took him to act as his advisor."

"Or just so he wouldn’t feel outnumbered amidst all those crazy Noldor," Ingalaurë couldn’t help adding, smiling wickedly, and giving Findis a wink. Most of the others laughed in appreciation of the jest, though Findis merely sniffed in disdain while Valandur leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, which mollified her. His ammë gave him a brief smile and he found himself blushing slightly, though he couldn’t say why.

"In the meantime," Elindis said, once the laughter died down, "we need to ascertain how the rest of the city is coping or not. I have already sent my ladies-in-waiting throughout the city with guards, laden with candles to ensure every household has some and to check on the people’s state of mind, but we need something more systematic."

"We can call together the magistrates who have been assigned particular districts and have them organize those under them," Lindórië suggested.

"The guildhalls should also help," someone added.

Elindis nodded. "Then, let us call the magistrates and guildmasters together and begin ascertaining the health of the city. People must still be in shock over what has happened, and we need to help them past it so they can get on with their lives. I also need someone or a group of people to go and check on the outlying farms. We need to know if any of the crops have begun to fail and to what extent."

"Surely the Valar will see that we do not suffer unduly," Lassezel said.

"Yet, they do have other concerns," Tamurilon pointed out in a reasonable tone, "and we may not necessarily be at the top of their list."

This idea dismayed most of them there but none had any answers. Tamurilon volunteered to oversee the farms and Indil naturally said she would go with him. Then there was a discussion about how to show the passage of time without resorting to star-gazing.

"We need our loremasters working with our candlemakers to create candles that burn at a particular rate over a particular period of time," Valandur offered. "Either that, or some other means of telling time. We cannot keep having someone ring the cloister bell all the time."

"We will need to have someone who remembers how we told time by the stars to reinstitute that practice," Elindis said, "and coordinate that with having a bell rung. There is that carillon overlooking the main guildhalls. Perhaps we can utilize them to chime every hour rather than occasionally as they do now."

"We’ll look into it," Lassezel volunteered and Elindis nodded.

"Then, our most important task is to see to the people and ascertain their needs and to inventory our food supplies if crops will not flourish in this darkness," the queen summarized. "We will convene another meeting as soon as we can get word to the magistrates and guildmasters."

Everyone agreed to this and shortly thereafter they began to go their separate ways until only Elindis, Ingalaurë, Indil, Valandur and Findis were left. Ingoldo, Ingalaurë had noticed, had been one of the first to take his leave, practically dragging a protesting Tinwetariel with him.

"Well that went better than I expected," Valandur said when the last of the councillors had left.

"Ingoldo’s little speech met with willing ears," Findis remarked with a sniff. "I’m not sure he is to be trusted."

"He can be useful when he sets his mind to it, though," Elindis said with a sigh. "I just wish Ingwë would hurry and return. Nothing the Noldor do can be so important that he would stay away this long."

Ingalaurë silently agreed and winged a hopeful prayer to the Valar that his atar and brother would be home soon. He feared what might happen if they stayed away too long.