Chapter Thirty-nine: The Warning

The eldest son of Nolofinwë got his answer soon enough.

We continued on northward, our hosts divided between marching on land and sailing the Teleri's ships. However, I made sure that only loyal Formenos men manned the boats, for they were the only ones I trusted with such a duty. I was beginning to doubt Nolofinwë once more, remembering how Moringotto had said he had taken up the name of Finwë in earlier days and how he had sought to gainsay me in every endeavor, and did not trust anyone with the slightest faith in the son of Indis on the deck of a swan-ship.

We had just passed the northernmost foothills of the Pelóri, and entered the empty, barren realm of Araman, when a dark figure appeared before our hosts.

The silhouetted person stood on an outcropping of rocks, his face veiled in shadow but his eyes shining in the starlight. I commanded the Noldor to halt, and returned the figure's unflagging gaze with my own.

"What do you want of us?" I called to him, trying to ignore the quivering fear that this might be Moringotto waiting to entrap us.

"Only that you stand and lend me your ears, people of the Noldor," ordered the shadow in a sonorous, authoritative voice loud enough for all of the two hosts to hear. It was then we realized that this was no mere messenger of the Valar, but one of the Valar themselves--fools though they were, the Powers, when so inclined, had voices to make the highest mountains kneel in reverence. Silence fell like a curtain of black velvet, hushing us all as a mother would hush a band of unruly children.

"Hear me now as I speak the Prophecy of the North, and proclaim the Doom of the Noldor," the Vala rumbled, then let a pregnant pause fill the air before saying, "Tears unnumbered you shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains. On the House of Fëanáro the wrath of the Valar lies, from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their Oath shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures they have sworn to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. The Dispossessed shall they be for ever.

"You have spilt the blood of your kindred unrighteously and have stained the land of Aman. For blood you shall render blood, and beyond Aman you shall dwell in Death's shadow. For though Eru appointed to you to die not in Eä, and no sickness may assail you, yet slain you may be, and slain you shall be--by weapon and by torment and by grief; and your houseless spirits shall come then to Mandos. There long shall you abide and yearn for your bodies, and find little pity though all whom you have slain should entreat for you. And those that endure in Middle-earth and come not to Mandos shall grow weary of the world as with a great burden, and shall wane, and become as shadows of regret before the younger race that comes after. The Valar have spoken."

The words, monotonously and deprecatingly spoken though they were, visibly shook the hosts to their core, and when I looked about me I saw loyalty waver, and courage fail. For a moment even I considered rethinking my decisions, but disdained that idea almost at once. For once, I did not speak with arrogance or anger. This time I answered the Valar's warning in slow and soft tones, each word evenly weighed down by my heavy deliberation.

"We have sworn, and not lightly. My sons and I will keep our oath. We are threatened with many evils, and treason not least. But one thing is not said in this prophecy--that we shall suffer from cowardice, from cravens or the fear of cravens. Therefore I say that we will go on, and this doom I add--the deeds that we shall do shall be the matter of song until the last days of Arda."

But even as I spoke, a steady, anxious murmur rose and grew from the backs of the hosts, and I knew that the sons of Indis had no doubt provoked the Noldor into misgivings. My fear was confirmed when Aikanáro came to me, having made his way through the long ranks to my side, his face worried and preoccupied.

"Father is forsaking the march, with any who will come with him," he informed me in a quiet, subdued voice, "A good part of Nolofinwë's host is following, but Nolofinwë and his children remain."

"Curse Arafinwë," I growled, "At least with his departure we will no longer suffer from the sowing of such uncertainties!"

I paused, gathering my thoughts and trying to carry them out of the destructive fires of wrath. "What of your siblings? Did they leave with him?" I paused, looking at Aikanáro with the beginnings of distrust rising in my heart. "Are you going with him?"

Aikanáro heaved a silently agonized sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, but shook his head slowly, his dark eyes quiet with pain. "No. I--I told Father I would remain. Even Findaráto and Artaresto remain--though it was probably their greater wish to follow our father--for they will not leave us three youngest to brave this journey alone." His features grew distant as he spoke the word alone, and he looked over his shoulder to the long path that would lead his father, and those who would follow his father, homeward.

I recognized in him the same stirring to do all that his father wished that I too had possessed while Finwë had been alive. If Aikanáro was given even a spare moment to consider his choices, I knew he too would be soon hastening down the southern path.

"Come," I ordered him, not wanting to lose the devotion of my most loyal follower in the grandchildren of Indis to mere homesickness. "We must press onward, while Moringotto's trail is still fresh. Tell those who remain faithful to me to keep marching."

Aikanáro's gaze grew weary and heavy with fate. The weight of these times was taking a toll on even the youngest children of the Noldor. "Even with the Valar's eyes turned from our cause?"

A cold wind pulled at my hair, chilling my face, trying to turn my face to the road leading back to Tirion, but I ignored it stubbornly. " Yes, Aikanáro. Even so."