Chapter Four: A New Quest
He watched with a stern gaze as his son returned from wherever he had gone off to. Ereinion's cheeks were flushed from the joy and exertion of an afternoon hunt in the train of Oromë. He removed his riding gloves, and with his hands tried to smooth down the errant strands of black hair that had escaped his braids during the ride.
Fingon turned to the figure wearing shimmering blue robes seated in one of the chairs of Ereinion's study. "Forgive my son, My Lord. He enjoys the hunt far too much, I am afraid." And enjoys running away from his duties, it would seem, Fingon did not add.
He always wondered why Ereinion enjoyed playing truant sometimes. He speculated that it had something to do with his responsibilities as one of the chief advisers of Finarfin the High King – as was the duty of all those who had once been High Kings of the Noldor in Arda.
Pallando, Maia in the service of Ulmo, smiled serenely. "It is no trouble, Fingon. I saw Ereinion join the train of Oromë as I was entering Tirion."
Fingon raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you not speak to him then?"
"I did not wish to interrupt him, or impede his errand." Pallando shrugged. "I would prefer to speak with him here, where he will not be distracted by other things."
Just then, Ereinion entered the study, and Fingon turned around to see a surprised expression on his son's face.
"Father," Ereinion said, looking quite startled. "Why are you here? Was there something you wished to discuss?"
Fingon smiled wryly at his son. "Ereinion, I would never have prevented you from going out every now and then. I only wish that you would leave a note of some sort informing the household of your whereabouts. That way we shall know what to tell visitors who come seeking you out." Here, he moved aside, revealing Pallando. "Master Pallando arrived earlier this afternoon, desiring to have a word with you."
Ereinion flushed in an embarrassed manner, and bowed to Pallando. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting, My Lord. Had I known that you were coming, I would not have left to join Orom's hunt."
Pallando smiled, and bowed to Ereinion in greeting. "I bid you welcome, Lord Ereinion."
Pallando smiled in amusement as he gazed at the youngest to have become High King of the Noldor in Arda. "I trust that your hunt with Orom's train went well?" He truly admired Ereinion. During his time as Gil-galad, he had done a splendid job ruling the remainder of the Elven people who yet resided in Arda. Pallando knew that Ereinion had never wanted his role and the power that was given to him as High King – just like he did not want his role now as adviser. There was a need for freedom and adventure in this, Fingolfin's grandson, which Alatar enjoyed, and Olórin and Pallando respected.
Now, those very same traits would prove useful. The need for adventure that Pallando knew burned yet in Ereinion's heart would prove a crucial element in getting the Elf-lord to agree to his plan.
Ereinion looked at him. "How did you know of that?"
"I saw you leave Tirion just as I was entering it," Pallando explained. "But I did not approach you then, for I believed that it would have been better for us to speak of this matter here than amongst baying hounds and thundering hooves."
Ereinion smiled weakly. "I thank you for your consideration." He sat down in another chair, across from the one Pallando took. "What did you wish to discuss with me, My Lord?"
Pallando sat down, carefully schooling his features into a more serious mien. "Fingon, you do not have to leave, for it would be better for you to hear this now than for Ereinion to explain it to you later."
After Fingon sat down in another chair, Pallando told them the little-known story of his journey as the Wizard Rashidi to the Near and Far South of Arda. He told them of how he met and fell in love with his wife, Nephthys, who was the niece of the ruling queen, and of his daughter, Anna.
He was not surprised when he saw the stunned looks on the faces of the Elf-lords when he mentioned his wife and daughter. He knew that the last time there had been a union between one of the Maiar and a Child of Ilúvatar, it had been between Melyanna and Elwë Singollo, who was an Elf. But a union between a Maia and a mortal, and one who was of the South, at that? It was unheard of, and unprecedented.
After he had told his story, Pallando sat back, and waited for his listeners to react.
Fingon leaned forward, his face showing that he was still trying to digest what he had just heard. "If all is as you say," he said slowly, "then your daughter still remains in Arda." He looked up. "But should she not be here, with you? Surely the Valar would have allowed your daughter to return with you."
"I did not bring her with me because I was uncertain of what My Lord would say," Pallando explained. "If my wife had been one of the Quendi – one of your people – as had been the case with Melyanna and Elwë, then I would have brought my family with me across the Sundering Seas and into Aman. But that is not so. My wife is mortal, and she has gone to the place where all those born of the mortal race go to when they have died."
He stood up, and walked to the nearby window. He gazed upon the city of Tirion, for night had come, and it glimmered with the many lamps and torches that were lit in the streets and in many households. It was a glorious sight, one that he had always told in stories to his daughter: the beautiful lights of Tirion glimmering against the crystal stairways and the silvery fountains. To her and his wife only did he tell who he really was, and it was to them that he bequeathed his symbols as a Wizard: to his daughter, his ivory staff, crafted for him by his fellow Maiar in the service of Aulë; and to his wife, as a wedding gift, a beautiful ring crafted also by Aul's smiths using silver and pearls, all set in the shape of a lily – a rare flower in the South, and one held in the highest esteem by those who lived there.
He shook his head, clearing his mind of the memories as he looked once more to the Elf-lords behind him.
"But my daughter…in her veins runs my blood and that of her mother. I was not certain whether I could bring her with me, so I left her there. I had hoped to forget, these past fifteen years that have come and gone since I returned here, but a father can never forget his child. I asked for a boon from Ulmo, asking them to allow my daughter to at least make a choice between mortality and immortality, and that boon has been granted. Now, all that must be done is for me to send a small group of the Quendi to Arda by the leave of My Lords, to inform my daughter, and bring her here if she chooses immortality."
Fingon's brow furrowed. "Then why come to my son, Master Pallando?"
"I spoke to Olórin, and he told me that Lord Ereinion was the most perfectly suited for this mission."
Just as Pallando expected, Fingon reacted by standing up from his seat in protest. "Master Pallando," Fingon began heatedly, his gray eyes flashing fire; "while it is certainly flattering that you and Master Olórin hold my son in such high esteem, I do not think you have the right to bring him into this!"
Pallando sighed, and shook his head. He had foreseen that this would happen. And Fingon has every right to oppose me, he thought. He was sending his son and only child to a potential death in Arda: a second death in lands that had been unexplored by the Quendi, and thus lands that were potentially dangerous to those of their kind.
"Remember whom you choose for this venture," Olórin's words rang in his mind. "Try to avoid those who are married as much as possible. In fact, I suggest that you avoid them altogether. A wife will do anything to keep her husband with her – especially if they have been separated for a long time." There was something in the way that Olórin had said those words that indicated Pallando should avoid asking Finrod son of Finarfin, or Elrond son of Eärendil: the both of them were married already – Finrod had wed Amarië of the Vanyar, while Elrond was married to Celebrían, daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel.
"Father," Ereinion cut in then, his voice quiet though it seemed to cut into the now-silent room like a sword slash, "let Master Pallando finish. I wish to hear what he has to say about this mission."
Fingon whirled around to face his son. "Ereinion, I cannot believe you are even considering this! Surely you know what awaits you there-"
Pallando looked up at Ereinion, his gaze meeting that of the Noldo's. "Fire, blood, and war. Those are what shall greet you once you cross the Sundering Seas and return to Arda. I will not lie to you, Lord Ereinion: the South is not a pleasant place to be at this point in time. The mages are all in a mad scramble for power, whatever form that power may take. The people of Umbar seek to gain an advantage over Gondor and Arnor by increasing the power of their mages and other magic-users, and thus wreak havoc and vengeance on the Reunited Kingdom. That is their ultimate goal.
"But they can do no such thing until they have managed to find an artifact powerful enough for the task – or a person whom they can manipulate to their own ends." He turned to Fingon. "My Lord, do you remember Lúthien Tinúviel?"
Fingon blinked at the question, but nodded slowly. "Yes, I remember."
"Do you remember the magic that she was able to wield?"
Again, another nod. "Yes, I remember the tales. She was able to send Morgoth to sleep by the sound of her voice. And with that same voice, she was able to strike a bargain with Mandos, thus allowing her and Beren to live another life in Arda, though as mortals."
Pallando smiled slightly. "Those powers are but a few of the gifts that are part and parcel of those born with Maiar blood. Lúthien was able to control hers to such an extraordinary degree because of her mother's tutelage.
"But my daughter had no such guidance. I was only able to teach her the barest grasps of control during her childhood years, but that was not enough. It was never enough. She is dangerous, both to herself and to the people around her. If something should happen to her that will force her to abandon her control completely, the effects would be disastrous."
Ereinion looked at him with shadowed eyes. "What sort of effects might these be, My Lord?"
"Have you ever seen someone try to boil water in a covered container without any holes to let out the steam?"
Ereinion nodded, and opened his mouth as if to say that he did not see the connection of that with his daughter, but before any words could get past his lips, realization flashed through his eyes, and he closed his mouth. His face became pale, and he leaned back into his chair, horror prominent on his features.
Pallando smiled sadly. "Yes, My Lord. That is one of the possible results that could happen should she lose control of her gifts. It is a very gruesome possibility, but a possibility nonetheless.
"Yet the world around her poses a threat to her as well. As I said earlier, the nations of the South are engaged in a war wherein they seek out objects or people who have the most magical power, and use them to their own ends. I fear that my daughter, should her true strengths become known, may be used by those of wicked intent to further their own ambitions. The people of Umbar have long been bitter about their loss at the hands of Aragorn Elessar during the Battle of Pelargir, and during the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. They will try all they can to avenge themselves of that loss."
He turned to look at the two Elf-lords. "The fate of Arda hangs by a fragile thread, a thread that can easily be severed, and then the world will descend into chaos and darkness. Your goal is to retrieve my daughter, but in doing so, you prevent the world of Men from falling back into savagery and anarchy."
Fingon snorted. "Why should we be further involved in the affairs of the Secondborn? They have inherited Arda; we have no right to interfere with what they do there. That is why our people left Arda: because it was no longer our duty to remain as custodians of that land, and we have passed it on to the Edain."
"The Lords do not entirely forget the Edain and the other people of Arda," Pallando said softly, "though they may have chosen to separate the Undying Lands from the Circles of the World. While Men may have the capacity for untold evil, they also have the capacity for untold goodness. And it is because of that – along with the many deeds of heroism and courage that those of their race have done – that they remember their obligation to the Secondborn."
"What Master Pallando says is true," Ereinion said. His voice was nostalgic, and Pallando knew that the Elf-lord was reminiscing times gone by. "Elendil… He was not only a King of his people, but he was a dear friend to me. I was not able to repay the debt I owe him and his line: as he saved my kingdom in the Second Age of Arda, so was I supposed to save his during the Last Alliance." He chuckled wryly then. "Obviously, I failed miserably. But now I have a chance to repay that debt, though it is several thousand years overdue."
Fingon's eyes narrowed as he glared at his son. "Ereinion, are you saying that you will join Master Pallando's cause?"
"Yes." Ereinion turned to look back at his father, and determination shone brightly in his eyes. "I will. If I can somehow save Elendil's line from destruction…if I can prevent another war from being fought…" He smiled slightly. "I cannot leave my debt to Elendil's house unpaid, Father – not when I am given an opportunity to repay it."
Pallando smiled at Ereinion, and bowed to him. "I am grateful, My Lord, that you are willing to go on such a risky venture."
Ereinion chuckled, and grinned at Pallando. "I am ready for anything, My Lord, as long as it can get me away from the dreary duties at the court."
Fingon quirked a small smile. "I had guessed as much. So you really are desperate to run away from your duties?"
"I would much rather think of it as the adventure I never got to have," Ereinion replied with a shrug.
Pallando smiled. Father and son would have much to talk about, it would seem. He bowed to them then, and said, "Forgive me, My Lords, but I must beg my leave of you for now. I believe that you have much to talk about, and I do not wish to interfere."
Fingon nodded. "Stay the night, at least, My Lord. You would do us much honor if you did."
"I accept, My Lord, and I thank you for the offer." With another bow, he turned around, and left the study, leaving Ereinion and Fingon to talk to each other behind closed doors.
Now, those very same traits would prove useful. The need for adventure that Pallando knew burned yet in Ereinion's heart would prove a crucial element in getting the Elf-lord to agree to his plan.
Ereinion looked at him. "How did you know of that?"
"I saw you leave Tirion just as I was entering it," Pallando explained. "But I did not approach you then, for I believed that it would have been better for us to speak of this matter here than amongst baying hounds and thundering hooves."
Ereinion smiled weakly. "I thank you for your consideration." He sat down in another chair, across from the one Pallando took. "What did you wish to discuss with me, My Lord?"
Pallando sat down, carefully schooling his features into a more serious mien. "Fingon, you do not have to leave, for it would be better for you to hear this now than for Ereinion to explain it to you later."
After Fingon sat down in another chair, Pallando told them the little-known story of his journey as the Wizard Rashidi to the Near and Far South of Arda. He told them of how he met and fell in love with his wife, Nephthys, who was the niece of the ruling queen, and of his daughter, Anna.
He was not surprised when he saw the stunned looks on the faces of the Elf-lords when he mentioned his wife and daughter. He knew that the last time there had been a union between one of the Maiar and a Child of Ilúvatar, it had been between Melyanna and Elwë Singollo, who was an Elf. But a union between a Maia and a mortal, and one who was of the South, at that? It was unheard of, and unprecedented.
After he had told his story, Pallando sat back, and waited for his listeners to react.
Fingon leaned forward, his face showing that he was still trying to digest what he had just heard. "If all is as you say," he said slowly, "then your daughter still remains in Arda." He looked up. "But should she not be here, with you? Surely the Valar would have allowed your daughter to return with you."
"I did not bring her with me because I was uncertain of what My Lord would say," Pallando explained. "If my wife had been one of the Quendi – one of your people – as had been the case with Melyanna and Elwë, then I would have brought my family with me across the Sundering Seas and into Aman. But that is not so. My wife is mortal, and she has gone to the place where all those born of the mortal race go to when they have died."
He stood up, and walked to the nearby window. He gazed upon the city of Tirion, for night had come, and it glimmered with the many lamps and torches that were lit in the streets and in many households. It was a glorious sight, one that he had always told in stories to his daughter: the beautiful lights of Tirion glimmering against the crystal stairways and the silvery fountains. To her and his wife only did he tell who he really was, and it was to them that he bequeathed his symbols as a Wizard: to his daughter, his ivory staff, crafted for him by his fellow Maiar in the service of Aulë; and to his wife, as a wedding gift, a beautiful ring crafted also by Aul's smiths using silver and pearls, all set in the shape of a lily – a rare flower in the South, and one held in the highest esteem by those who lived there.
He shook his head, clearing his mind of the memories as he looked once more to the Elf-lords behind him.
"But my daughter…in her veins runs my blood and that of her mother. I was not certain whether I could bring her with me, so I left her there. I had hoped to forget, these past fifteen years that have come and gone since I returned here, but a father can never forget his child. I asked for a boon from Ulmo, asking them to allow my daughter to at least make a choice between mortality and immortality, and that boon has been granted. Now, all that must be done is for me to send a small group of the Quendi to Arda by the leave of My Lords, to inform my daughter, and bring her here if she chooses immortality."
Fingon's brow furrowed. "Then why come to my son, Master Pallando?"
"I spoke to Olórin, and he told me that Lord Ereinion was the most perfectly suited for this mission."
Just as Pallando expected, Fingon reacted by standing up from his seat in protest. "Master Pallando," Fingon began heatedly, his gray eyes flashing fire; "while it is certainly flattering that you and Master Olórin hold my son in such high esteem, I do not think you have the right to bring him into this!"
Pallando sighed, and shook his head. He had foreseen that this would happen. And Fingon has every right to oppose me, he thought. He was sending his son and only child to a potential death in Arda: a second death in lands that had been unexplored by the Quendi, and thus lands that were potentially dangerous to those of their kind.
"Remember whom you choose for this venture," Olórin's words rang in his mind. "Try to avoid those who are married as much as possible. In fact, I suggest that you avoid them altogether. A wife will do anything to keep her husband with her – especially if they have been separated for a long time." There was something in the way that Olórin had said those words that indicated Pallando should avoid asking Finrod son of Finarfin, or Elrond son of Eärendil: the both of them were married already – Finrod had wed Amarië of the Vanyar, while Elrond was married to Celebrían, daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel.
"Father," Ereinion cut in then, his voice quiet though it seemed to cut into the now-silent room like a sword slash, "let Master Pallando finish. I wish to hear what he has to say about this mission."
Fingon whirled around to face his son. "Ereinion, I cannot believe you are even considering this! Surely you know what awaits you there-"
Pallando looked up at Ereinion, his gaze meeting that of the Noldo's. "Fire, blood, and war. Those are what shall greet you once you cross the Sundering Seas and return to Arda. I will not lie to you, Lord Ereinion: the South is not a pleasant place to be at this point in time. The mages are all in a mad scramble for power, whatever form that power may take. The people of Umbar seek to gain an advantage over Gondor and Arnor by increasing the power of their mages and other magic-users, and thus wreak havoc and vengeance on the Reunited Kingdom. That is their ultimate goal.
"But they can do no such thing until they have managed to find an artifact powerful enough for the task – or a person whom they can manipulate to their own ends." He turned to Fingon. "My Lord, do you remember Lúthien Tinúviel?"
Fingon blinked at the question, but nodded slowly. "Yes, I remember."
"Do you remember the magic that she was able to wield?"
Again, another nod. "Yes, I remember the tales. She was able to send Morgoth to sleep by the sound of her voice. And with that same voice, she was able to strike a bargain with Mandos, thus allowing her and Beren to live another life in Arda, though as mortals."
Pallando smiled slightly. "Those powers are but a few of the gifts that are part and parcel of those born with Maiar blood. Lúthien was able to control hers to such an extraordinary degree because of her mother's tutelage.
"But my daughter had no such guidance. I was only able to teach her the barest grasps of control during her childhood years, but that was not enough. It was never enough. She is dangerous, both to herself and to the people around her. If something should happen to her that will force her to abandon her control completely, the effects would be disastrous."
Ereinion looked at him with shadowed eyes. "What sort of effects might these be, My Lord?"
"Have you ever seen someone try to boil water in a covered container without any holes to let out the steam?"
Ereinion nodded, and opened his mouth as if to say that he did not see the connection of that with his daughter, but before any words could get past his lips, realization flashed through his eyes, and he closed his mouth. His face became pale, and he leaned back into his chair, horror prominent on his features.
Pallando smiled sadly. "Yes, My Lord. That is one of the possible results that could happen should she lose control of her gifts. It is a very gruesome possibility, but a possibility nonetheless.
"Yet the world around her poses a threat to her as well. As I said earlier, the nations of the South are engaged in a war wherein they seek out objects or people who have the most magical power, and use them to their own ends. I fear that my daughter, should her true strengths become known, may be used by those of wicked intent to further their own ambitions. The people of Umbar have long been bitter about their loss at the hands of Aragorn Elessar during the Battle of Pelargir, and during the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. They will try all they can to avenge themselves of that loss."
He turned to look at the two Elf-lords. "The fate of Arda hangs by a fragile thread, a thread that can easily be severed, and then the world will descend into chaos and darkness. Your goal is to retrieve my daughter, but in doing so, you prevent the world of Men from falling back into savagery and anarchy."
Fingon snorted. "Why should we be further involved in the affairs of the Secondborn? They have inherited Arda; we have no right to interfere with what they do there. That is why our people left Arda: because it was no longer our duty to remain as custodians of that land, and we have passed it on to the Edain."
"The Lords do not entirely forget the Edain and the other people of Arda," Pallando said softly, "though they may have chosen to separate the Undying Lands from the Circles of the World. While Men may have the capacity for untold evil, they also have the capacity for untold goodness. And it is because of that – along with the many deeds of heroism and courage that those of their race have done – that they remember their obligation to the Secondborn."
"What Master Pallando says is true," Ereinion said. His voice was nostalgic, and Pallando knew that the Elf-lord was reminiscing times gone by. "Elendil… He was not only a King of his people, but he was a dear friend to me. I was not able to repay the debt I owe him and his line: as he saved my kingdom in the Second Age of Arda, so was I supposed to save his during the Last Alliance." He chuckled wryly then. "Obviously, I failed miserably. But now I have a chance to repay that debt, though it is several thousand years overdue."
Fingon's eyes narrowed as he glared at his son. "Ereinion, are you saying that you will join Master Pallando's cause?"
"Yes." Ereinion turned to look back at his father, and determination shone brightly in his eyes. "I will. If I can somehow save Elendil's line from destruction…if I can prevent another war from being fought…" He smiled slightly. "I cannot leave my debt to Elendil's house unpaid, Father – not when I am given an opportunity to repay it."
Pallando smiled at Ereinion, and bowed to him. "I am grateful, My Lord, that you are willing to go on such a risky venture."
Ereinion chuckled, and grinned at Pallando. "I am ready for anything, My Lord, as long as it can get me away from the dreary duties at the court."
Fingon quirked a small smile. "I had guessed as much. So you really are desperate to run away from your duties?"
"I would much rather think of it as the adventure I never got to have," Ereinion replied with a shrug.
Pallando smiled. Father and son would have much to talk about, it would seem. He bowed to them then, and said, "Forgive me, My Lords, but I must beg my leave of you for now. I believe that you have much to talk about, and I do not wish to interfere."
Fingon nodded. "Stay the night, at least, My Lord. You would do us much honor if you did."
"I accept, My Lord, and I thank you for the offer." With another bow, he turned around, and left the study, leaving Ereinion and Fingon to talk to each other behind closed doors.