Chapter 8: Blame

Year 34 of the Sun, Doriath

Nerwen returned to Thousand Caves two years after her talk with Celeborn, and by then, she knew the answer.

She understood now what they meant when they said she would know when she met the Elf she would marry. Once she cleared the doubts and fears from her mind – no easy task, because she did not take anyone's council in this – she saw the flame of love burn brightly, and she felt the pull to be very strong. It could not be confused with anything else.

In spite of that, she stayed in the northern realms, taking part in their administration, and only went to visit Doriath again after the usual amount of time had passed. Upon laying eyes on Celeborn, she immediately realized he assumed that meant she had found her answer, and it was not in the positive. She sought to remedy that impression as soon as she could, and when she saw him rise from the table at the feast as soon as the king and queen did, she followed him outside the hall. "Lord Celeborn," she called.

"Yes, my lady?" He returned in a guarded tone.

"I know it's late, but would you consider a walk in the forest with me?"

He assented, but she could see he was preparing to hear explicit rejection. "I'm sorry I stayed away so long," she said as soon as they crossed the bridge to the trees. "The lands I feel responsible for required me, and my cousin's daughter always feels bereft without my company. I knew my mind soon enough, in several months, perhaps, and so I'd have been able to give you an answer much earlier. Though I cannot help feeling I should receive a definite proposal first," she pointed out. She knew he couldn't give her one, of course, but it was enough to help her avoid confessing her feelings as he replied: "I know, but I'm still uncertain. I had thought at one point that it meant it was only an illusion, but my admiration continues undiminished, and that confuses me."

She nodded. "There's something you need to know from me before you can understand your own heart," she explained, "but first I need your word that you'll not tell anyone of what I'm about to say, not even your king and queen. It's a serious matter, and I'd be laying loyalty aside if I told them of it. But I need to tell you."

Celeborn clearly hesitated. "If it's a matter of importance..."

"It is, and your king would want to know about it." She paused. "The only thing I can tell you to put your mind at ease is that it concerns only the past in that there is no immediate action required of your kingdom. It'll not bring any sort of practical problems, that he didn't know, but it's still an important matter."

There was a long silence as they continued walking. "I don't like this," he said at length, "but it seems I have little choice. Very well, I promise I'll not breathe a word of it to anyone."

"I don't like it either, I assure you." She took a deep breath and stopped their walk, leaning on a tree and looking into distance as she started to speak. "The Blessed Lands have not been so blessed for many Valinorean years before our departure. Morgoth dwelt there, and though he wasn't openly evil like he is now, he sowed discord and hatred among us. Mainly, he turned my two uncles against each other, and all of us against the Valar. He was driven out in time, but the fruit of his work remained. Feanor my half-uncle drew his sword against his half-brother, at one point. He was banished from our city for this, and king Finwë went with him."

She closed her eyes for a moment, against the assault of tragic memories of what came next. When she opened them again, Celeborn was watching her calmly from few feet away, and she continued. "Years later, Feanor was invited to a feast to make peace with my uncle, and he did so, in his way, but king Finwë stayed away and that was when the Enemy came back. He destroyed the Trees, took the Silmarils – great jewels that Feanor had fashioned and that had the light of the Trees inside of them – and killed our king."

Here, Nerwen paused and carefully sent her mind to probe their surrounding to make sure they were truly alone before continuing. Celeborn's face was full of sorrow now, but he was still silent, and she went on with the story: "Feanor was mad with rage and grief, but still as powerful as always, and he wanted to follow Morgoth to Middle-Earth and take revenge. His will was strong and he put most of our people under a kind of spell. I wasn't one of those affected, however. I've simply longed for Middle-Earth for years, and I knew that after he left, none of us would be allowed to. I helped to convince my cousin Findekáno and my uncle to leave – Findekáno because he is like me, and my uncle because I feared for our people, left solely in Feanor's care. My brothers decided to follow too, as well as Turukáno, Findekáno's brother, and most of the Noldor choose Ñolofinwë as their king, because he was the one living with them for the last Valinorean decade, and he was sane."

Nerwen fell silent. What she said until now was, perhaps, not something to be particularly proud of, but not a shameful secret either. She needed all of her strength to continue, and she attempted to draw it from the calming atmosphere of the forest around her.

When she did not speak for a long moment, Celeborn said: "And then? This does not appear like something so very crucial for my understanding of my heart, though I am of course sorry for the loss of your king."

That made Nerwen feel even worse, but she strengthened her resolve and continued, though more quietly: "We went to the sea, and there...the darkest part of our history took place. My brothers and I were marching in the back with our father when we heard the sounds of battle. We ran to the seaside, and we saw the Noldor and the Teleri in a fight." She swallowed and made herself go on, still not looking at Celeborn. "I...do not know exactly what happened there to this day, but I can imagine, I believe. Feanor wanted the ships, and the Teleri refused to give them. So Feanor opted to take them by force." Here, she had to stop again, reliving the horror of that hour, the visions that still plagued her and always would.

"The Noldor...killed Elves?" Celeborn asked, as if to make sure he had heard correctly, horrified incredulousness in his voice.

Nerwen nodded mutely. "Mostly, it was Feanor's host who took part in the kinslaying," she said at length, "but I regret to say that some of my uncle's people did too, those who arrived at the spot and did not know what happened, and did not have clear enough mind to think about it, and so jumped in to defend their closer kin." And again, the nightmare of Findekáno covered in blood rose before her eyes and she chased it away forcefully – but not quickly enough.

"Who...who was that?" Celeborn asked shakily, seeing her mind.

"My cousin," Nerwen whispered. "My beloved cousin, my best friend, the one who is so much like me, our prince...I came to the coast and this was what I saw." A low wail escaped her and Celeborn stretched his arm as if to take hold of her hand, but then he let it fall back.

Nerwen steeled herself and continued, as calmly as she could: "Feanor won and took the ships, and we marched on like in a daze, and then Lord Námo appeared, pronouncing the judgement of the Valar over us. We were banned from returning to Aman and cursed to live in the shade of death, Feanor and his sons because of the killing, and the rest of us if we followed him. It felt very unjust to me then, and my pride did not allow me to stay, but I begged my parents and brothers to do so. My parents listened, my brothers did not."

Nerwen slowly exhaled. The biggest secret, the biggest burden, was out now, and she felt relief, but she still needed to finish the story, and so she made herself tell of the last horror: "Shortly afterwards, Feanor and his people on the ships abandoned us and sailed, burning the ships on the beach after they arrived in Middle-Earth, the great white ships of the Teleri. And so the rest of us faced the Grinding Ice to get here. The horror of it...it can't be described." She pressed her memories back once more. "I've seen so many of my kin die in those years – first my mother's kin in Alqualondë, then my father's kin on the Ice. And, for urging my uncle and cousin to go, I bear some guilt for the second. The Valar had warned us that the road would be hard, but I never imagined...I couldn't imagine, not with all of my life's experience being in Aman, but I should have trusted them, or my elders, who told me that Middle-Earth was a brutal place."

She fell silent for a long moment, trying to calm herself and make herself finally face Celeborn, and the judgement she was bound to found in his eyes. She wrapped up the tale as succinctly as she could: "Feanor, as I expect you know, died soon after his arrival here, and Maitimo, his eldest son, gave up his kingship to my uncle. The breach between the two hosts was officially healed, but much distrust still remains and Maitimo and Macalaurë are the only ones of the brothers who can be talked to sensibly, and the only ones who don't resent my uncle being king. We try to forgive that they left us to the Ice, since it was chiefly their father's doing, but there is no meeting possible with the survivors of Alqualondë to beg for their forgiveness, for those of my relations who took part."

Celeborn's eyes were immeasurably sad as they looked at her, but he did not say anything. Nerwen could not stand that for long. "Why do you keep silent?" She asked.

"What is there to say?" He returned. "Our brothers over the Sea died in the Immortal Lands, by the hands of their kin. There are no words for such tragedy, but I begin to think those who haven't sailed to Aman those centuries ago had a reason for their mistrust. Despite everything, we haven't been hit by something so dreadful."

Nerwen frowned. "Don't blame the Valar. The evil came from Feanor, or from Morgoth, originally. It wasn't their fault."

Celeborn raised his eyebrows. "Wasn't it? Weren't they the rulers of those lands, and don't they know the fates of the world? Couldn't they have saved those to whom they promised safety?"

"They wouldn't interfere with Feanor's freedom, whatever decision he made," Nerwen tried to explain, a little tiredly.

Celeborn was not convinced. "That shouldn't prevent them from shielding the Teleri. Or are you saying they were not powerful enough to erect a protection around Alqualondë?"

Nerwen shook her head. "You scare me. You speak like Feanor himself, raging against the Lords of the West."

"Do you think it blasphemy?" Celeborn asked archly. "Yet they aren't the rulers of this world, Eru Illúvatar is."

Nerwen straightened, abandoning the tree she had been leaning on. "And why do you not rage against him, when he could have prevented the killings as well?" She challenged.

"He doesn't interfere in this world directly, he gave that duty over to the Valar," he pointed out.

"And they gave it over to us, to rule ourselves as we see fit." Nerwen continued this line of argumentation.

Celeborn, however, disagreed. "It's not the same. Teleri went to Aman at the invitation of the Valar, they were their guests, and so their responsibility. Our brothers accepted they would have less freedom over the Sea, but more safety, happiness and beauty. They found death instead."

Nerwen frowned. "You know they will likely come to life again soon enough."

"Does that make Feanor's action less of a crime?"

"No," she admitted. The wound did not hurt less only because the Valar could heal it afterwards, after all.

"Then it isn't relevant," he replied simply.

Nerwen was out of her depth, and she looked away from his eyes, which were suddenly disquieting. "Is this customary here, this lack of regard for the Valar?" She asked.

Celeborn thought about her question. "In some ways, yes, I suppose. We don't entirely understand why the offer was never made of ferrying the rest of us to Aman, after our king was discovered again. Many of us mightn't have gone, but some would have, and we didn't deserve to lose the chance just for being faithful to our king. And so we're more reserved."

"What does your queen say to this?" Nerwen asked curiously, and started walking again, in the direction of Thousand Caves.

He smiled, following her. "You need to realize she is a Maia, as you would say, and so while she respects them, she does not quite feel the awe the Elves do. I heard her once, in a talk much like this, tell our king that the Valar made mistakes too, just like everyone else – expect the One."

Nerwen was silent for a moment. "I didn't expect you to react in this way. I 'd have thought Feanor would be the first you'd turn your wrath against."

Celeborn snorted bitterly. "Don't mistake me, if he was here, I'd demand he faced justice, and I'd have no mercy for him. But he's gone, and his sons and others who took part while fully knowing what they were doing are absent too. I'm not going to be angry with you, especially not when I can sense your pain." He paused. "But I do need some time to clear my mind, more than you had, likely."

Nerwen nodded. "That is natural enough. You learned much today."

"And the promise of not telling our king will be a great burden," he continued, "but I understand why you extracted it, and I'll honour it, of course. Though it might mean not being in Thousand Caves much, since my queen's mind is keen in reading others."

"She'll be able to tell something troubles you, yes, but not what it is, not unless you intentionally open your mind to her," Nerwen pointed out, a little confused.

"Ah, but I normally do that, you see? Guarding my mind would mean it'd be more difficult to come to understand my heart. No, it's the forest for me for the time being. If you don't mind returning to Thousand Caves alone, my lady..."

"Not at all. I wish you peace," Nerwen said and departed.

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Returning to Hithlum, Nerwen was faced with the choice of whom to tell.

She did not like keeping secrets from her brothers and cousins, but her pride did not welcome the idea of admitting her feelings before she knew Celeborn's answer either. She was admired by many, but that he would feel true love for her was not inevitable, and it scared her, the circumstances being so out of her control.

Unrequited love in the strong sense of the word was not a thing present in Aman, where it could be only confusion and uncertainty what entered between a nis and a nér. And even that happened very rarely. Here, however, it seemed it existed. She heard of some cases of Elves falling in love with those who were already married, as horrifying as it was. Of course she had no way of knowing if it was the real flame that Eru put in those truly meant to be together, but she worried it could be. The idea of rejection scared her.

Now that she felt what it was like, she wondered about the purpose of this flame, too. She understood what Lady Melian had meant, to a degree. If this was what she felt towards Elwë – and it seemed so, though she was not an Elf, so perhaps it was different somehow – she saw how the Queen would forgive a lot. Boundless understanding seemed to come with the Flame, among other things. But were they truly compatible, the lord and lady of Doriath? They were very different. She had always assumed compatible meant similar, and expected that if she married at all, it would be to someone whose fire was as bright as her own. Yet Celeborn was all Teleri, though he was proud and hard-headed in his own way too. In Melian's and Elwë's case, they balanced each other out in some ways. Was that what compatibility meant? The examples of her grandparents, Turukáno, Ingoldo and her uncle seemed to confirm it, and even her parents in a way. She had always assumed that they loved each other despite their differences, and because of their similarities, but perhaps it was the other way round? Or perhaps both were equally important?

She shook her head and laughed at herself. She never even managed to understand Lord Olórin, and here she was trying to deduct how Eru's mind worked?

Instead, she returned to contemplating the choice of telling and not telling. She could not, she decided, keep it from Findekáno, and in fact, he should be the first to hear. Consequently, she headed to his house as soon as she made sure everything was well in hers, and took care of the most serious injuries there.

"Nerwen!" he cried as soon as he saw her, in the middle of a talk with one of his companions. "Back already? You did not stay long this time, did you? Let me finish here with Astaldo and I will be with you in a minute."

Nerwen politely waited to the side while Findekáno arranged some matter of guard duty along the southern border. When Lord Astaldo departed, she raised her eyebrows at her cousin. "You and your brother employ your companions in the strangest ways. He sets them on Irissë, you make them arrange border guard. I am quite certain Uncle intended them to be your personal guard, if something."

"At the time when they were assigned to us, there had been no time for a personal guard," Findekáno retorted. "And you are one to speak, since you left your handmaidens in Aman."

Nerwen grimaced. "It is enough that I convinced you to come, there was no need to have the poor girls' suffering on my conscience as well. Besides, you knew them. They would hardly have survived the Ice." Her parents' choice had been almost humorous in this respect. She supposed they had hoped the ladies would mellow her. Well…

"This might actually be the only thing you and my sister would agree on," Findekáno said, amused, as Irissë's ladies had stayed behind as well.

"Well, she never wanted any handmaidens in the first place."

"Neither did you," Findekáno pointed out, mostly truthfully. She did not object to the idea as such, only to what it meant in practice. "But I doubt you came here to criticize how I manage my household and realm," he continued, "even though, if you are interested, I give these tasks to my companions because I trust them the most."

"You are right, this is not why I came." She smiled and looked at him intently, and he looked back for a moment before…

"You are in love!" He exclaimed.

"Indeed I am."

"But that calls for a celebration!"

"Do not get ahead of yourself," Nerwen muttered. "I do not know if it is requited yet."

"Oh." That calmed some of Findekáno's ardour, but he took her arm nevertheless, and leading her deeper into the house, asked: "So who is this incredible specimen who managed to impress you of all people?"

Nerwen smiled a little. "His name is Celeborn, and he is Elwë's great-nephew – so, actually, my second cousin."

"Hmm." He pretended to consider it. "Rather closely related, is it not?"

"Oh, leave it be. Your brother did not marry much farther from home, and besides, it is not like I chose who I feel the Flame for."

Findekáno pressed her arm. "I am only teasing, beloved, do not worry. So what is so amazing about this Celeborn that he outshines all the Noldor?"

"Well, for one, he is not such an ass as you are," Nerwen replied with a laugh. "But really, I do not know him that well yet… but he is smart and argumentative and respects me without bending to my will...and his eyes are the most beautiful shade of green."

"As beautiful as yours?" Findekáno asked teasingly.

"Much more so." She considered how to describe it. "Do you know how they say about my hair that it is gold, but with she silver of Telperion still somehow contained in them? It is like this with Celeborn's eyes. They are green, but much more bright and shining than normal green...oh, I cannot describe it. Look into my mind!"

He did. "He is good-looking, I have to grant you that. But what did you mean you do not known if he loves you in turn? Surely no one could resist you?"

"You know I could hardly be happy in a marriage that had love on my side and simple infatuation on his. But no, there is...some hope. He is considering the situation now," Nerwen admitted. "He asked me to give him time."

"And you do not need time to consider?" Findekáno asked.

"I already have." She hesitated, then confessed: "For the past two years."

"And you kept it from me?" He hit her lightly in the arm. "Shame on you!"

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The talk with her uncle, which followed, was somewhat more serious and motivated more by duty than by affection - as everything relating to him was, these days. But she was, after all, his advisor, and her possible marriage and departure would affect him directly.

"I am happy you found someone, beloved," Ñolofinwë said. "I know you have been lonely."

"Yes. I am glad also – assuming this will turn out well," she replied in a reserved tone.

"You told him about Alqualondë?" He asked quietly.

"Yes. I could...hardly keep such a thing secret." No need to go into details.

"No, you could not, not if you want to have any chance of happiness in marriage," he said, and there was clear bitterness in his voice.

"Uncle..." Nerwen started, feeling her heart touched in spite of herself.

"Do not let your hope be spoiled by my bad decisions," he replied, waving his hand.

"But it was me who helped to convince you to leave!" She burst out, even as her mind was telling her not to feel guilty about him, because surely if something, they were even. It was Anairë she should be feeling guilty about. She had never spared her aunt a single thought, in convincing her uncle to leave, and it was one of the many things that lay heavily on her conscience these days, even though it hardly registered, compared to the responsibility she felt for the Ice.

"That is not what I meant," he clarified. "I had to go, you were right about that. But had I not argued with Anairë for years before, she might have gone with me. She might have trusted my reasons more, had I trusted hers before."

"We were all influenced by the lies of the Enemy," Nerwen tried to calm him, even though she knew very well he was likely right.

"Not her! And not you, either," he added.

"I certainly was," Nerwen corrected him, unable to let such a rose-tinted view of her stand, not when her conscience screamed. "Even though I never spoke to him – what else was it that made me ignore the warning of my elders and the Valar about the dangers of the journey? How could I contrive to put so many at risk?" She asked bitterly. "And as for your wife...I do not know. Perhaps had it not been for him, she might have had more patience for you, more understanding."

"But did I deserve more understanding?" He questioned. "You were not exactly full of it at that time either, I remember."

"Yes," Nerwen replied simply, "but I am not your wife."

He exhaled. "Let us not talk about Anairë," he said. "the memories hurt. Tell me about your love instead."

And so she did, even though she had originally intended this talk to be short, to cheer him up. Her uncle listened, and saw her memories, and smiled. "He sounds like a very interesting Elf," he said then. "I look forward to meeting him, and I wish you happiness, even though the idea of you living elsewhere...pains me."

"You saw the memory where we talked about that," Nerwen tried to reassure. "I would be back often."

"Yes. It would still not be the same."

No, it would not. That was what pained Nerwen as well, and why she was perhaps dreading the idea of a positive answer from Celeborn a little as well.