127: Return to Tirion

The Queens weren’t all too pleased to learn that they only had at best a single day in which to pack for the trip to Tirion, but Ingwë refused to alter his plans and there was a sudden whirlwind of activity throughout the palace. Heralds were sent into the city and among the outlying farms to announce that the High King was going to Tirion to see the new Noldóran crowned and to receive his oath of fealty and that his sister, the Lady Indis, would act as regent during his absence. The populace took it in good stride, for Arafinwë, being half-Vanyarin, was well-liked by his ammë’s people and when they finally departed, the royals, Arafinwë especially, were surprised and touched by the number of people who congregated in the square before the palace and along the route to the south gate to wish them well with many ellith and elflings tossing up bouquets of flowers to those in the royal entourage.

"I guess they’ve forgiven me," Ingwë said with a laugh as he accepted a particularly large bouquet from a grinning elleth.

"Either that, or they are very glad to see you go," Arafinwë quipped and Ingwë stuck his tongue out at him.

As Ingwë had predicted, many of the Vanyarin nobles, except the few who volunteered to remain behind to help Indis oversee the running of the city, accompanied them, so their party was large, spreading out along the road for nearly a third of a mile. Still, they made good time and reached Valmar quickly enough. They were met at the north gate of the city of the Powers by Eönwë who informed them that the Valar had made arrangements for their camps ahead of time to speed them on their way.

"Some of my fellow Maiar will set up and break down your camps and provide you with meals," he told them. "That way you will not be wasting time."

Ingwë gave the Maia a shrewd look. "If I didn’t know better, I would almost think the Valar were rushing us along for some reason."

Eönwë simply smiled. "They are just anxious to ease your travels," he said, "at least to Tirion. You’re on your own for the journey back."

Ingwë chuckled and there were grins among the others. Then Eönwë led them into the Landamallë where a number of pavilions had been set up for their use. Maiar were on hand to offer them refreshments which were eagerly accepted. They found Lirulin there with Cemendil and his wife, Séremárië, and there was a joyful and tearful reunion for Intarion, Tamurilon and others.

Olwë whispered into Lirillë's ear as they watched the reunions. "Perhaps you can distract Cemendil’s wife and son for a few moments while I speak to Cemendil alone about Falmaron." Lirillë gave him a considering look and nodded, going over to speak to Séremárië and Tamurilon while Olwë took Cemendil aside. What was said between them remained between them. When they rejoined the others both ellyn were solemn and disinclined to speak. When Cemendil saw the concerned look on his son’s face, he smiled and gave him a hug and kiss, assuring him that all was well.

They set out again just as Tilion rose, bathing them with Telperion’s light. Ingwë thanked the Maiar on behalf of everyone else and then they were making their way past the eastern gate and onto the road to Tirion. They continued along the road without hurrying, many looking about them in the silvery light and marveling at how different the landscape looked.

"I don’t know if I care for this new light," Olwë said at one point. "I much prefer starlight."

"I suppose it’s just something we’ll have to get used to," Lindarion commented with a shrug.

"I wonder how our people are taking it," Lirillë said. "I do hope there hasn’t been a panic."

"I was assured by Lord Manwë that all is calm throughout Eldamar," Ingwë said. "Maiar were sent to the two cities, as well as to the Southern Fiefdoms to let people know they had nothing to fear from the strange light. And has anyone come up with a word to call it? It’s getting annoying not having a word for it."

"What about Tilion after the Maia Lord Manwë says is guiding the orb?" Ingwion suggested.

"I suppose that will do for now until something better comes along," Ingwë replied with a nod. "In the meantime, we need to start planning the ceremony and letting Anairë know what to expect."

"Why don’t we wait until we’ve stopped at camp to discuss it?" Arafinwë suggested. "I would prefer to be well fed first."

There were chuckles all around and no one disagreed.

Eventually they came to a place where trees came near the road and they saw several pavilions set up in a clearing to their right and a welcome fire already lit. The smells of cooking permeated the air and everyone perked up at the thought of food. Even as they reached the camp, Maiar were among them insisting that they would care for the horses and everyone was to go and wash up from the journey and enjoy the dinner awaiting them. No one bothered to argue and in a short enough time everyone was seated under one pavilion or another while Maiar served them. From the surcoats, Ingwë saw that all the Valar, even Lord Námo, had contributed Maiar to serve the Elves. He wasn’t sure if this was their way of apologizing or what, but he decided it didn’t matter. He smiled graciously at a Maia in the black surcoat of Lord Námo who offered to refresh his wine goblet and thanked her. He wasn’t sure in the chancy light of Tilion’s orb and the candles that illuminated the pavilion, but he thought he saw the Maia blush with pleasure at his courtesy.

As they ate, Ingwë again broached the subject of the upcoming ceremony. "I know you want it to take place outside the gate, but have you thought of how you want it to go?"

"I suppose Anairë could bring the rod of office that Fëanáro had made for her and Eärwen when they were given the regency to give to me," Arafinwë answered after taking a sip of wine. "Beyond that I haven’t really thought about it much. I would like to keep the ceremony simple. I don’t want any fuss. It’s going to be hard enough for me as it is without drawing it out and I just want to get it over with."

"How simple do you want it to be?" Ingwë asked.

"I was thinking that someone, Axantur probably, should ask the people if they accept me as their king. Hopefully they’ll say aye rather than nay." Arafinwë gave them an embarrassed look.

Eärwen leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I doubt if anyone will be so foolish as to deny your right to the crown, dear. For better or for worse, you are the last of the House of Finwë here in Aman."

"Actually, he isn’t," Valandur spoke up with an amused smile, "but he is the next in line for the throne."

"Which reminds me," Arafinwë said, casting a look towards Intarion sitting with Lirulin, Ingwion, Indil, Tamurilon and Amarië at a nearby table, before turning to Ingwë and Olwë. "Are you both all right with Intarion being named my heir?"

"It’s a logical choice and I have no objections," Ingwë answered.

Olwë nodded in agreement, giving him a sardonic smile. "Of course, Intarion might object."

"We had best let him know now rather than later so he gets used to the idea," Arafinwë opined and when Ingwë nodded he stood, asking for everyone’s attention. It took a few minutes for there were three other pavilions where people were supping and Arafinwë asked the Maiar to have the highest ranking person from each of the other pavilions to come and attend to the High King. Once that was accomplished, Arafinwë spoke.

"It has been the custom for each king to declare his heir," he began. "Normally that would be the eldest born son. Unfortunately, my Findaráto is no longer with us, nor any of my other children." He stopped then, suddenly choking up, and glanced down at Eärwen with great sorrow. She reached out and took his hand in hers, giving him a tremulous smile full of love. He swallowed and after a moment he got himself under control and continued. "In consultation with my uncle and my atar-by-marriage, and with their approval, I have decided to name Intarion Ingoldion as my heir."

"What!?"

Intarion leapt up from where he was sitting, staring at Arafinwë in disbelief, shaking his head and actually stepping back as if he would flee at any moment. Arafinwë gave him a sympathetic look. "You are of the royal line, Intarion, whether you like it or not," he said. "You are the closest male heir of my bloodline next to Ingwion, who is already haryon to Ingwë."

"But I don’t want to be your heir!" Intarion practically wailed. "I don’t want to be anyone’s heir. I am perfectly happy being me. Besides, do you seriously think the Noldor would accept a Vanya as your heir, especially one who is the son of a traitor?"

"The Noldor don’t know that," Arafinwë said.

"Not yet," Intarion retorted angrily. "But they will and then what? Besides, I would think Findis and Valandur’s son, Valalyon, would be the obvious choice for an heir. He’s Finwë’s grandson, after all."

"Valalyon has had no training in the ways of government," Valandur said. "Findis and I decided early on that we would not force any of our children to enter government service but to let them make their own choices. Our son is happily living in Eldamas with his wife and children serving Lord Manwë, as well you know."

"What if I refuse? I can refuse can’t I?"Intarion demanded.

Arafinwë sighed and looked to Eärwen, who smiled before she turned to Intarion and spoke. "You know, many of the lords and ladies of the court were quite impressed with you."

Intarion gave her a suspicious look. "What do you mean?"

"During your stay with us, they found your observations to be very astute and your suggestions sound," she answered. "And those who accompanied Lirulin on the fact-finding mission to the Southern Fiefdoms had nothing but high praise for her. You are both a credit to our people. Whatever your atar’s failings, the nobles of Tirion already know your worth and will not judge you harshly because of Ingoldo. That you defied him and helped in rescuing the High King will only make you more worthy in their eyes."

"And here is another thing to consider," Valandur said. "You are correct, Intarion, when you say that Valalyon would be a more logical choice because he has the blood of the House of Finwë flowing through his veins, but he has rarely been to Tirion and is unknown to its people. You, on the other hand, are already known and respected from what I’ve heard. You and Lirulin are both known to the Noldorin court and you are familiar with them. Valalyon would be absolutely lost and very unhappy."

"And I won’t be?" Intarion retorted angrily.

"I am not asking you to give up your lives," Arafinwë said. "The heirship is more a formality than anything. If something were to happen to me, the people need to know that there is someone there who will take over. In the meantime, continue with your lives as they are, but I may ask you to spend some part of your time in Tirion and sit in council and in judgment with me."

Intarion glanced at Lirulin, who nodded, and sighed, then gave Arafinwë a hard look. "I don’t like it and I almost hate you for even thinking of me as your heir, but as long as I have your promise that you will not insist that Lirulin and I live in Tirion, that I can continue working Atar Nolondur’s vineyards, then I suppose I can do it."

"You have my word, Intarion. I only ask that you attend me on specific occasions to fulfill your duties as haryon," Arafinwë replied, "otherwise, you and Lirulin are free to live your lives as you choose, but on one condition."

"And what is that?" Intarion asked with a frown.

"I get a discount on Nolondur’s wines," Arafinwë answered with a grin.

Intarion raised an eyebrow and gave the Noldo a grin back. "You’ll have to take it up with Lord Nolondur," he said, casting an amused look at the said lord who was sitting with his wife at another table along with other members of Ingwë’s Privy Council.

Nolondur rolled his eyes, throwing up his hands. "Everyone wants a discount," he protested, feigning disgust. "They’re trying to ruin me."

There were chuckles from those who knew Nolondur and were familiar with his ways and the tension eased somewhat. Ingwë took the opportunity to stand and raise his goblet. "To the new Noldóran and his appointed heir," he said in toast and everyone raised their goblets. "To Arafinwë and Intarion," they all exclaimed while Intarion sat glumly beside Lirulin, who hugged him, whispering how proud she was of him and how much she loved him and that seemed to mollify him somewhat.

****

Over the course of their journey to Tirion, the details about the coronation ceremony were hammered out and Olórin, who appeared at each campsite, would update Arafinwë as to the progress of the preparations in Tirion while in turn Arafinwë would give further instructions as the ceremony was refined, still insisting on simplicity for all that everyone else seemed more inclined to make the ceremony as elaborate as possible.

"We don’t get to crown a new king every day of the week," Ingwion tweaked Arafinwë when the latter started complaining about some of the more elaborate suggestions being offered.

Arafinwë just threw up his hands and stalked away, refusing to return to the camp until they were ready to continue on, and even then refusing to speak to anyone unless absolutely necessary. After that, the others let him plan the ceremony any way he pleased and he appeared less fractious.

Not all of their discussions centered around the coronation, though. Much of the time was taken up with deliberations concerning how the three kingdoms would interact in the future. In these conversations the heirs, Intarion included, were encouraged to participate.

"It’s clear that we Lindar no longer have the luxury of remaining isolated from the rest of Eldamar," Olwë said. They were now halfway to Tirion and most of the details for the upcoming ceremony had been dealt with. Now the kings were holding an informal court surrounded by their wives and heirs while the others traveling with them stood or sat around them. It was full dark, for Tilion had set while they were still traveling and now, after eating, they were relaxing under the light of the stars. The Maiar who had been attending them had left, or at least went unclad, for the more suspicious-minded of them did not think that they were left entirely alone. Whether that was true or not hardly seemed to matter, though, for they could not prove their suspicions.

Ingwë gave Olwë a nod in agreement with his words. "I always felt that you and your people were too isolated from the mainstream of Eldarin society. I often wondered how your brother would have handled things."

"But I am not my brother," Olwë pointed out without heat. "And I did not come here willingly. I would have preferred to remain in Endórë to search for Elwë."

"I know," Ingwë said. "Don’t think I don’t understand how you felt. I simply hoped that you would see fit to bring your people all the way into Eldamar instead of clinging to its edges."

Olwë merely shrugged, not interested in defending himself or his people.

"What will you do?" Arafinwë asked in the lull. "What ideas do you have for integrating your people more closely with ours?"

"That is something that needs to be decided and not just by me," Olwë replied. "I plan to take it up with my court. Oh, there will be protests and objections from all sides, but I promise you I will not take ‘No’ for an answer. There will be closer relations between us though it’s not going to happen immediately."

"Do you have any ideas, though, Atto?" Eärwen asked. "I’m sure you’ve given this some thought already."

Olwë smiled. "Actually it was your ammë who came up with an idea that I think has merit."

"Oh?" Ingwë asked, giving Olwë’s queen a warm smile, who blushed slightly under everyone’s regard.

"Go ahead and tell them, my love," Olwë said, giving her a kiss even as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It was your idea, after all."

Lirillë gave her husband a sour look, but the genuine love and affection that she saw in his eyes mollified her and she snuggled into the crook of his arm before speaking. "Actually, Lindarion gave me the idea, though I don’t think he realized it."

Her son gave her a puzzled look. "When....?"

"It was during the trial," Lirillë replied. "Do you remember commenting on the differences in how Ingwë held court compared to how your atar does and saying that you thought that some of the ways the Vanyar did things, while strange, had some merit, and you were thinking of speaking to your atar about them?"

Lindarion nodded. "Yes, though, in truth, I really haven’t put much thought to it. I guess I figured I would talk to Atar about it when we got home."

"And I would welcome that discussion and am interested in hearing your insights," Olwë said, "but, in the meantime, let’s hear what idea your ammë has come up with."

"Speak on, dear," Ingwë said.

"Well, it’s just this. I know when Eärwen first moved to Tirion, her letters home were filled with confusion and frustration because the Noldor did things differently from what she was used to and she often felt foolish because she didn’t know the correct procedure or she did something unconsciously that was against the Noldorin norm."

"Oh, I’d completely forgotten about that," Eärwen said, looking embarrassed.

Arafinwë gave her a troubled look. "I didn’t realize you were so unhappy," he said apologetically.

"Oh, I wasn’t unhappy," Eärwen assured him. "Mostly I was confused and whenever I made a comment on how things were done you usually gave me a blank look and I realized you didn’t understand what I was saying, so eventually I just let it go, but I’d forgotten some of my earlier letters home were less than joyful."

"Do not berate yourself, Arafinwë," Lirillë insisted when she saw his look of hurt and shame that he somehow had failed his beloved. "It’s not your fault, not even Eärwen’s fault. Indeed, there is no fault on anyone’s part. The point I’m trying to make is that, given our isolation, we’ve grown away from the other clans in our customs and ways of doing things and Eärwen found herself trying to reconcile what was normal for her with what the Noldor considered normal. They didn’t always match up."

"And you would think, given the amount of time I spent in Alqualondë that I would have been more sensitive to all that," Arafinwë muttered angrily in self-disgust.

"But you were only there on short visits, however many there were, and you never really stayed long enough to really notice the differences," Olwë pointed out. "Eärwen had to deal with them day-in and day-out and she adapted beautifully." He cast a warm and loving look upon his oldest daughter and Eärwen smiled back.

"At any rate," Lirillë said, "between what I know Eärwen went through when she first moved to Tirion and Lindarion’s observations, I was thinking it might be a good idea to create an exchange program."

"What do you mean?" Ingwë asked with a slight frown. "Exchange what?"

"Not what, who," Lirillë replied with a giggle. "I was thinking that we can periodically exchange younger members of our courts. We would send some of our people to Tirion or Vanyamar and you would send some to us for a certain period of time so they can learn about how the different clans do things."

"The idea certainly has merit," Ingwë said after a moment’s reflection. "It would be a good way of bringing the three clans closer. How young were you thinking? I know the Noldor begin training youngsters in government when they’re around four. I usually don’t want them around until they’ve reached their majority."

"That’s only because Ingil and I gave you a lot of grief when we were that age," Ingwion said with a laugh that was unforced and genuine. Those hearing it and seeing the calmness with which he spoke of his dead twin silently rejoiced, believing he was finally beginning to heal. "When Indil was born I remember you telling Ammë you didn’t even want to know she existed until she was at least six."

Ingwë had the grace to look embarrassed as the others laughed. Indil looked a bit put out but Elindis leaned over and whispered something to her and her expression mellowed.

"Yes, well, you and your brother were a handful and a half," Ingwë replied somewhat lamely and there were good-natured snorts of amusement from many.

"Well, getting back to the discussion at hand," Arafinwë said, "I think sending the youngsters who are at least four but haven’t reached their majority to the different kingdoms might not be a bad idea. They’ll be young enough so they won’t be too set in their ways."

"But they will still be minors," Elindis pointed out. "Will not their parents be concerned for their well-being and supervision? I’m not sure I would want to send a child of mine away from my sight for any length of time under those circumstances."

"Hmm... you have a point there," Ingwë acknowledged. "Perhaps we should consider sending those who have reached their majority, say those between five and six."

"They may resent being sent away just as they are entering into service for real," Ingwion opined.

"What about a fosterage?" Intarion suggested.

Everyone gave him enquiring looks. "What do you mean?" Ingwë asked.

"If those sent on the exchange are still minors, then have them become temporary wards of the king in whichever realm they are sent. You could then assign others to act as guardians for them, and the guardians would be responsible for their behavior, as well as for their general well-being."

"That would certainly work," Arafinwë said, nodding in approval. "I know a number of my nobles who would gladly accept that charge."

"And I as well," Ingwë said.

Olwë nodded. "Are we agreed then? Will we implement an exchange program for our younger courtiers in the hope that this will bring us all closer to one another?"

There were nods all around. Then Nolondur raised a hand, seeking permission to speak, which permission Ingwë gave. "Perhaps we can extend this idea a bit further," the Vanyarin lord suggested. "Perhaps we can encourage our guilds to exchange journeymen so that they learn different techniques and begin pooling their resources more. I know in my own experience, I’ve welcomed the insights of some of the Noldorin vintners. Some of my fellow guildsmen are not too happy with me sharing what they consider to be guild secrets even with the Noldorin guild, but they can’t deny that since doing so my wines have only improved and so have those of the Noldor."

"An exchange of journeymen would certainly be a boon for all," Arafinwë said.

"Why journeymen and not apprentices?" Lindarion asked Nolondur.

"Simply because journeymen know enough to actually be of some use," Nolondur replied with a grin. "Apprentices are too new to their studies and it’s difficult enough teaching them established guild techniques without burdening them with additional knowledge." He cast a knowing look at Intarion who blushed, much to everyone’s amusement.

"Can I help it if I’m older than the other apprentices?" he muttered.

Now there were chuckles all around. Ingwë gave Intarion an understanding smile and then addressed Nolondur. "Your idea certainly has merit as well and perhaps once we’ve established this exchange of courtiers we can encourage the guilds to do something similar." Then he glanced up at the stars. "The hour grows late and tomorrow will see us in Tirion. Perhaps we should go to our rest so we’re not all yawning in the middle of the ceremony."

Everyone laughed at that and the assembly began to disperse, though not everyone felt the need for sleep. Some wandered away from the camp to walk under the stars and others remained by the fire and sang softly or told tales for a while.

And surrounding them, keeping guard, were unclad Maiar, though none of them knew it.

****

Note: The ages given here are in Valian years. In reality 4 Valian years would be about 45, 5 Valian years would be about 50 while 6 Valian years would be about 60.