Honesty
(Early Spring)
It was several hours after sunset that they rode into Forlond. They slowed to a trot. Immediately Adaron, Naurloth, Mirthlûn, and Thorontir turned southward along a side street, and slowed, and the hobbits' ponies were swept along with them.
Rinloss, Helkaris, Aergeleb and Alphaelin, with Lorien, continued on. As Helkaris and Rinloss rode by, Noldo looked into their eyes, and felt chilled. As Helkaris passed, his thoughts pressed into Noldo's mind. "Little savage, we will let you keep the child. It is mortal."
Noldo looked up at Adaron. Now that Alphaelin was gone, he felt free to speak at last. "I wish he and Rinloss had stayed with us, and you had gone," he said; "I trust you and do not believe that you would speak harshly against us."
Mirthlûn studied Noldo. "If they speak harshly, the wise will mistrust their motives."
Noldo looked at Mirthlûn. "I like you," he replied simply. "You have been kind, and I thank you for that."
They halted in front of a white house that looked as if the walls were made of seashells mortared together. The elves slid off their mounts, and the horses simply wandered off, some visiting a stream and some going directly to a nearby field. Noldo and Sindo stripped the tack off of their ponies, and Noldo looked at Mirthlûn. "If we let them go with the others, will you call them back for us when we need them?"
Mirthlûn nodded.
Thorontir frowned slightly at Noldo, and Noldo shrugged. "What must we do?"
Thorontir replied, "Rest. And wait."
"Rest..." Noldo looked down at the ground. It looked as good a place as any. He didn't care.
Sindo tapped him. "Not here. Thorontir, where can we go to rest and wait?"
The four elves once again surrounded the two hobbits, and led them inside the house. They climbed two stairwells, and came out through a door; the whole roof was a balcony, slanted slightly, but there were benches, and trees from three sides of the house reached leafy boughs over the roof. The effect was gardenlike; although there were no flowers, there were several small basins of water.
Thorontir was still frowning at Noldo. "You are not resting."
Noldo sat on a bench. The elves gently surrounded him, except for Naurloth, who followed Sindo closely. Sindo stood by Noldo, clapped him wearily on the shoulder, and then sat down on the ground by his feet. "Naurloth."
"Yes, Sindo."
"I suspect that these four have some important talking to do. But I am exhausted. May I ask you to do something for me?"
Naurloth waited.
"It seems funny to ask, and maybe it's not proper, or something," Sindo wavered, nervous now. "But what I was going to ask was--" he hesitated.
Naurloth waited.
"Well-- sometimes, when everything was quiet, Lorien used to sing in my mind."
Naurloth smiled, delighted, waiting for the rest of the question.
"Do you know the Song of Nimrodel? My mother used to sing a few verses of it as a lullaby. Lorien sang it to me by the hour."
Naurloth chuckled. "The Lay of Nimrodel. Yes, I do. I've never tried to sing a tune inside someone's mind before," he laughed. "We generally sing out loud, for joy or grief. But I will try it."
Naurloth sat on the bench beside Noldo, and Sindo curled up at Noldo's feet and opened his mind to Naurloth. Naurloth began to concentrate, and Sindo visibly relaxed, and within a few verses, was fast asleep.
"Take him below, " smiled Adaron, and Naurloth smiled back. "Yes, but I think I had better keep singing; he has woven his dreams around the song already." Sindo stirred, and Naurloth hurriedly began concentrating again. Once again he lifted Sindo and took him downstairs. He returned shortly to the rooftop, but kept his distance, concentrating with a smile.
Thorontir still frowned at Noldo, baffled that the hobbit could not, would not relax. "Your brother is resting now. Why cannot you rest as well?"
Adaron shook his head. "The day you fall in love, Thorontir, you will understand."
Noldo looked at Thorontir in surprise. "How old are you? If it's not improper to ask, that is."
"It is considered improper, little one, but I will answer. I have seen a thousand summers and more, " Thorontir said.
Noldo rubbed his hands over his face. "I suppose that makes you young."
"Yes," said Thorontir. "But not so young as Mirthlûn."
Noldo raised his eyebrows at Mirthlûn. "I have seen five hundred and forty two summers since I came of age," Mirthlûn replied. "Yet neither am I the youngest." He laughed at Adaron.
Noldo waited, eyes widening.
"I am barely two hundred years old," replied Adaron.
Noldo stared at him, waiting.
"However," Adaron replied, "I am married. And I have a daughter and a son. My son has just come of age. And my daughter," he said, very quietly, "is scarcely Lorien's age."
"Then, " replied Noldo, "why don't you hate me for what I've done to Lorien?"
Adaron shook his head. "Hate you? No. Grieve with you, perhaps. Grieve over you, certainly."
"I don't understand."
Adaron smiled sadly, but then his eyes softened. "One hundred and seventy years ago, another tale of youthful love was told in Forlond. Well before either of us were of age, I knew that Lothuial was, as you quaintly say, fond of me; as I was of her. She was very young, not much older than Lorien, although not nearly so strong-willed and tenacious. I remember that time clearly, of course. I remember the guidance we had, the counsel, the guardians, the oversight. And none of it was wasted; we needed it all."
He sighed again. "And so did you. But you had only your father's imperfect understanding, until you lost even that, and had to count on your brother for counsel. And your brother was guided by Lorien The Strong-Willed And Tenacious. Noldo, without your father you had no chance. You fell into their hands."
Noldo bristled despite himself.
"Do not mistake me, " Adaron said gently, with a sad smile. "I do not doubt your love for her, nor her love for you. But she wooed you, finally, with such skill, because your brother counseled her. And he counseled her, because he believed her love for you was immutable; but she had never been put to the test. She had never tried to let go of her love for you; there was no one capable of disciplining her out of her willfulness, no one to guide her with millennia in perspective. She had never been subjected to discipline and patience. She had never been made to understand that the consequences of her actions and decisions would last for thousands of years."
Noldo began to feel rather uncomfortable.
"I have said too much, " Adaron said, "but perhaps now you understand why I grieve over you. If you had had your way, none of this would have come to pass; but you were guided, in the end, by the passions of a stubborn, willful, spoiled elf-child, and the counsel of your brother who had become her willing servant. Between his counsel and her tenacity, you were wooed and won."
Noldo waited, expecting a rebuke but somehow not fearing it.
"That she loves you with all her heart I have no doubt. That you love her wholeheartedly and devotedly I am also entirely confident. And now, " Adaron continued softly, "because you and she shared thoughts without training or guidance or restraint, already your minds are intimate, your thoughts flow together, you have learned to wait peacefully with each other, to help each other, protect each other, and encourage each other; and now also you have taken an oath binding yourselves to each other. If that oath is upheld by the wise, then, she will watch you age and die, and Sindo will also age and die, and she will watch your child age and die; in the end, she will be alone, with only the memory of your love for her. Elves generally do not remarry. There is no reason to expect that she would."
Noldo waited, but Adaron seemed to have finished his tale. Noldo's heart was now heavier still for the thought of Lorien's long, slow wait as he, Sindo, and the child died off.
Perhaps, thought Noldo, it would be better if she were spared all that, and taken from me now. Perhaps if the oath is declared invalid, she could marry someone who could be with her all her long, long life.
Adaron stirred, and turned to look at Naurloth, who looked up at him, stood, and came to stand beside him. "How is Sindo?"
"His dreams have quieted, and he sleeps deeply."
Adaron nodded. "Noldo, Naurloth is my son."
Naurloth smiled at Noldo, and Noldo struggled wearily to his feet. "You are happy indeed, Naurloth, to have such a father as Adaron."
Naurloth smiled and nodded. "Mirthlûn named him well."
Mirthlûn laughed. "I like giving names, Fiery Little Spirit. Belegadar seemed an appropriate name when his girl-child was born, although all now shorten it to Adaron. Lothuial bore him two children within twenty-eight years."
Adaron gave Mirthlûn a fond scowl, and changed the subject. "I think, " he said, "as weary and burdened as Noldo is, that perhaps we should all sing for him. Perhaps then he would be able to find some rest."
Adaron nodded at Naurloth, who softly began to sing, and the rest joined in. To Noldo's surprise, the song they sang was one he had never heard before; he half expected the Lay of Nimrodel.
Instead, they sang of Fingolfin's challenge to Morgoth; hardly a lullaby, Noldo thought. As they sang, Noldo saw the mountainside and the terrible Thangorodrim gates, and Fingolfin standing outside the gates shouting his challenge; flames leaped up in Noldo's mind, and a tall, dark foe towered over Fingolfin, and overpowered him despite the King's valor. But Fingolfin looked strangely like Noldo's own father, and Morgoth grew more dragon-like as the song progressed. When Morgoth finally defeated Fingolfin, and the eagle swooped down to take up Fingolfin's body and bear it away, Noldo saw no eagle, but the dragon, bearing away the bodies of his father and mother.
Noldo stood suddenly, and took his hands away from his eyes, in despair and anger and horror about to rail at the elves. To his surprise, Thorontir and Mirthlûn, and Adaron and Naurloth were all watching him with compassion, and with a wave of his hand Adaron stopped the song, reached forward, and lightly touched Noldo's chest.
"Weep for them, Noldo. Give them the mourning that they rightly deserve."
And so he did. He sat down among his four friends, who quietly waited and watched over him. Alternating between tears and silence, as the night deepened and the far eastern sky lightened, Noldo grieved, at long last, for the loss of Doldo and Mallie.
As the day dawned, Noldo, completely exhausted, fell into a deep sleep. Adaron had Naurloth carry him downstairs to another room near the one Sindo slept in.
Not long after dawn, Sindo woke up and came looking for Noldo. Naurloth was watching over Noldo, and Sindo asked him how Noldo was. Adaron joined them quietly as Naurloth was answering, "He looks peaceful enough."
"But how are his dreams?" Sindo persisted.
"I do not know."
"Well, are you going to look?"
"No. Are you?"
"Yes."
Adaron frowned.
Sindo, without any outward sign of concentration or focus, simply nodded. "His dreams are peaceful enough. I'll let him be, then."
Adaron stepped forward. "Sindo, you need more wisdom than you have, to know when his dreams are 'peaceful enough'."
"What do you mean? He's not having any nightmares, and his mind isn't full of fear or worry."
"How many times did you distract him from remembering your parents' deaths?"
Tears started into Sindo's eyes. "As often as I could!" he said vehemently.
"But you were not afraid to weep for them."
"I had to. I couldn't help it. I cried night after night. But I didn't want him to have to."
"Why should he not weep for them even as you did?"
"Because he had been sad enough, " retorted Sindo. "Losing Lily was hard enough on him."
"Not as hard as unreleased grief and mourning."
Sindo wilted. "Lorien didn't want to see him sad either. Neither of us did."
"Then you are both guilty of keeping him from the healing he needed, and could only find in grieving and mourning for his parents. Sindo, I understand your love for your brother, and your desire to care for him and protect him. But neither dreams nor waking thoughts are to be trivialized or toyed with, or casually dismissed or suppressed, by a thought-sharing guest. It is one thing to share thoughts with a friend. It is another thing to control that friend's thoughts."
Sindo looked at Adaron, and still finding deep acceptance in his eyes, replied, "He never fought me."
"How could he, Sindo? You started in his dreams with a knife at his throat, and tamed him from there. Even if he had decided that blocking you out was a safe option, his love for you was far too deep for him to want to block you out of his mind. And that proved to be his undoing."
"Should he have blocked me out?"
"Perhaps. I shall not judge that now. But he should have been free to do so if he chose."
Sindo sat by his brother's bedside for a long time, thinking. Naurloth and Adaron waited in silence.
Mirthlûn and Thorontir brought bread and fruit, and they quietly ate while Noldo slept on; as they finished the last of the food, and the sun climbed to its zenith, Noldo stirred and woke. He glanced around, and noticed the empty platters. The elves laughed, and rose to leave; Mirthlûn promised to return with another plateful, which he did quickly, and then he left.
Noldo ate slowly. Sindo took a deep breath, and beginning far back at the crossing of the Misty Mountains, related his own tale to Noldo as the elves had seen it. And he apologized, carefully and deeply and sometimes with tears, at each trespass, until Noldo reached over and smacked him on the shoulder. "All right, Pesky. I forgive you for it; all of it. Let's let it go."
"Noldo, I'm sorry. I'm not meaning to be a... a pest. But each of these moments is like a weight on me. I've got to tell you about each one. Please."
Noldo sighed, and lay back down. "First get me another plateful then."
"All right." Sindo got up and went out. Noldo waited, staring out the window, and Sindo returned and set the plate beside Noldo. Noldo started on an apple.
Sindo struggled. "The next part is the worst."
"It is?"
"Yes. About three weeks before we met Ranger. I was talking to you about the clouds. Remember?"
"I was more and more sure that your mind had really snapped."
"I know. But it hadn't. I hadn't. I was-- I was keeping you from something. From somebody."
"From what?"
"From... I think... I think it was an elf. Or two elves."
Noldo sat bolt upright. "What?"
"I think it was two."
"But why?"
"Oh, Noldo, why do you think? But no, I'll say it. Because I couldn't bear the idea of being separated from Lorien, and I was determined to fight it any way I could."
"So... so you hid me from an elf? Two elves?"
"Yes."
Noldo slumped forward.
"It's worse than it sounds."
"What? Why?"
Sindo's voice shook as he spoke. "If we had stopped then, and learned where the elves were-- I think that was Imladris, or Rivendell-- we would have gone back then, and told Dad. We were only two weeks from home. And we would have gotten home, and probably packed and left, all of us, before the dragon came-- four weeks later. " Sindo burst into tears.
Noldo sat, numbly staring out the window, still raw from last night's grief and mourning; and for a little while he said nothing, but clasped his brother's hand as he wept.
Slowly Noldo stirred. "Sindo, you don't know that. We don't know that. We might have all still been there. Or Dad might have sent only one of us south with Lorien. Or the dragon might have found all of us together."
"No, " Sindo sobbed. "The elves knew about the settlements along the rivers, the hobbit settlements along the Bruinien and the Hoarwell. Dad would have taken Mother there as fast as he could have. We would have left right away. None of that would have happened. They would still be alive."
Noldo turned and looked hard at his brother, realizing the depths of his misery. "How long have you been blaming yourself for their deaths?" he asked, but he knew the answer even as he asked; Sindo had added up the weeks and come to his conclusions the very night that Doldo and Mallie died, and had blamed himself ever since.
Noldo thought he would ask for elvish help to get past that, so he rolled out of bed and stood beside his brother and held him tightly, and said only, "Stay with me, Sindo. Stay with me. I need you. You've got to come hunting with me. You've got to live next door to me. I need you to laugh with me and sing with me. You've got to stay with me."
"I will," his brother sobbed, "but it is true. The elves said so. They told me that Rivendell would have helped us, and I wasted that chance. I destroyed it. And now Mother and Dad are dead, and it's my fault."
Noldo's eyes widened. He wanted to protect his brother from the guilt, to deny it, to shield him, so that he wouldn't carry that burden anymore, but somehow he realised that he could not and that he even should not. He didn't know what to do. So he held his brother tightly as he cried.
It was quite a while before Sindo's tears slowed, and as he regained his composure, Noldo began to try and speak some comfort to him. But Sindo waved him off. "There's more."
"You've had enough for one afternoon!"
"No, Noldo, please. I can't carry this around any more. Please listen."
Not knowing whether he had enough strength left, Noldo nodded, and got back into bed, and sat listening.
"When we were riding west, and Lorien shared thoughts with you, peacefully and quietly... Remember?"
"Of course. That was what first began to win my heart."
"Of course it did. I told her to do it."
"What?"
Sindo buried his face in his hands. "You told me that what you liked about Lily was that she was polite and respectful, and soothing. So I explained that to Lorien. And I told her that she should be soothing and polite, and you would like that. And it worked."
Noldo paused, thinking that over.
Sindo dropped his hands into his lap and stared at them. "I used your description of Lily to defeat your love for Lily and replace it with love for Lorien instead." He clenched his fists. "And to think I called you callous and insensitive."
Noldo thought for a while, and then replied, "Look, this is all water under the bridge. I've fallen in love with Lorien and I've married her. I don't care if you helped me along or not. I love her now."
"And what if you don't get to keep her?"
"That's not your fault."
"Isn't it? Since I'm the one who convinced you to let go of Lily and marry her?"
"If anyone convinced me to let go of Lily, it was Lorien. I needed to tell somebody Lily's story, and Lorien listened, quietly and respectfully. It was Lorien's increasing respect for each of my memories of Lily that made me comfortable with sharing more of my memories of Lily with Lorien. Lorien cares for Lily, for my memories of her. She knows how important Lily was to me. And she respects that. I think she values Lily. I think she respects her."
"You do still love Lily, don't you."
Noldo felt so very weary. "Sindo, I love my wife. I'll always have very fond memories of Lily, yes. She'll always be very special and important to me. But I've given my oath to Lily."
Sindo raised his eyebrows. "To Lorien, you mean."
Noldo drew the back of his hand across his eyes. "Of course. Did I say Lily? Of course I meant Lorien. Sindo, I'm tired. And I miss Lorien, and I wonder if I will miss her for very much longer, or whether they will return her to me. Look, Sindo, I don't know whether you have more to ask me or tell me, but I'm very tired. Could I rest again? Feel free to talk to me in my dreams if you'd like."
Sindo frowned. "I'm not sure I'll do that very much any more, " he hesitated.
Noldo gave him a curious look. "Well, it's up to you."
"Maybe we both could use a rest. I'll go back to my room. Good night, Noldo." Sindo left.
But a half hour later, they were both wakened by Mirthlûn, telling them that they had guests downstairs. They combed their hair as best they could and washed their faces, and followed him groggily down to a parlor.
*******
The Fairy Wife