Footnote to the Akallabêth
And a
host of the Númenóreans encamped in might about Túna, whence all the Eldar had
fled…. But Ar-Pharazôn the king and the mortal
warriors that had set foot upon the land of Aman were buried under falling
hills: there it is said they lie hidden
imprisoned in the Caves of the Forgotten….
“I do
think,” Eärwen said in an annoyed voice, “that the Valar could have overwhelmed
the fleet of that mortal king a bit earlier.”
“Ingwë
says that they held back to give him a chance to repent,” Finrod told his
mother.
“That’s
all very well for Ingwë to say.”
Finarfin,
although keenly aware of the dangers of criticising the Valar, could not help
agreeing with his wife. “Valmar,” he
pointed out, “hasn’t been touched.”
“What
irks me,” said Anairë, “is that the Valar insisted on our withdrawing from
Tirion, for all the world as though we feared that mortal host. No doubt the king thought that we fled before
him.”
Finarfin
found himself nodding. He had led the
armies of the Noldor in the War of Wrath, it was most humiliating to be ordered
to retreat from an over-arrogant mortal.
“At least he won’t be able to boast about it,” he said grimly, “nor any
others of his army.”
“Besides,”
said Amarië, standing next to Finrod, “if we had not retreated from Tirion, and
our kin from Alqualondë, we too would have been overwhelmed in the destruction
of those blasphemous mortals.”
“Not if
the Valar had acted earlier,” said Anairë.
“Or
permitted us to resist,” Finarfin could not keep from adding.
“And
bring battle into Valinor itself?”
Indis, who had come back from Valmar with her son to observe the full
extent of the catastrophe, shook her head.
“And send more souls to Mandos?”
“Not for
long most likely,” said Finrod, “And it would have been less messy. Still, I for one have no desire to fight the
younger children of Ilúvater. And some
were our kin, do not forget, distant descendents of my cousin Turgon.”
Anairë
made a sound suspiciously like a snort.
Finarfin said, “I’d prefer you not to remind people of that. There was quite enough blame heaped against
our family in the First Age. I would
rather not have Ingwë and my esteemed father-in-law calling the Kings of
Númenor heirs to Finwë’s house.”
“Heirs
to Elwë Singollo as well,” Indis pointed out.
“I don’t think you need worry about Olwë.”
“My
father,” said Eärwen, “will have his hands full for some time in any case.”
This was too true to be argued with.
Alqualondë had been swamped by the tidal wave that engulfed the
Númenórean fleet. Tol Eressëa, according
to early reports, had escaped more lightly, but not unscathed. Still, the waters at least had
retreated. Olwë would have a huge
clean-up operation on his hands.
Finarfin would have to begin all over again.
The
small group bleakly eyed where Tirion upon Túna had once stood. Now there was only heaped up broken ground,
the wreckage left behind when the Valar had caused Ar-Pharazôn and the armies
encamped about Tirion to be swallowed by the earth. Nothing remained of the fair city that the
first Eldar in Valinor had built.
Finarfin
thought disloyally that having waited so long to engulf the host the Valar
could have waited a bit longer. Until
they were away from Tirion at least.
“And so
many of our people’s finest builders are still in Mandos.” Anairë voiced a general thought. Four millennia might have passed since the
greater part of the Noldor hastened from their home, but the numbers of those
left behind had increased only slowly, for more women than men had remained,
and far more of the elder, who had satisfied the urge for children, than of the
younger, who had not. Moreover most of
the younger elves had seen little point in learning building skills when so
many houses stood empty. “I don’t
suppose Manwë would consider a mass release?”
“Unlikely,
I think,” said Finarfin. He turned to
his elder sister-in-law, who had said nothing so far. “Nerdanel, do you suppose there’s any chance
of Aulë helping out? Perhaps lending
some Maia?”
“I’m
afraid not. You know how stubborn Aulë
is.” Aulë had taken the rebellion of
Fëanor extremely personally, and had not forgiven any of those who followed him
from Tirion, however great the repentance.
Only those who, like Nerdanel and her parents, had not followed Fëanor
in the first place still enjoyed his favour.
At
present Finarfin was feeling more sympathy for his half-brother Fëanor than he
had in two ages.
“Well,”
he said, and threw back his head, “the Noldor are the Elves of skill and
knowledge still, no matter how reduced.
We will build again, in a new place.”
They all
looked at him. “A new place?” Finrod said.
“Yes. I for one have no desire to live atop the
bodies of a lot of blasphemous Númenóreans.”
Moreover Tirion had never truly rid itself of the ghosts of those who
had marched forth and not returned. He
would not be sorry to leave this place behind.
“Fingolfin, when he comes from Mandos, can have the site if he wants it. I intend to found anew.”
Somewhere
further from Valmar, he thought. He was
tired of bearing himself apologetically for the acts of his kindred, tired of
being a mere substitute, a stopgap ruler, tired of being humble and above all
tired of trying to secondguess the Valar.
He was
the son of Finwë of the great journey, he was the king of his people and he was
going to begin again
Endnote:
Last time I read the Akallabeth the sentences quoted at the top leapt out at
me, and I found myself wondering two things. 1. Why did the Noldor
flee from Tirion? These are the Noldor
we're talking about. Even granted the ones who stayed
behind with Finarfin would largely be the least fire-eating, there
must have been a number of veterans of the War of Wrath and it seems
surprising they would just run away. Unless they were ordered to do so.
2. If the armies were engulfed when encamped around Tirion, then what
happened to the city? There's plenty of evidence the Valar don't have
good control over what happens when the landscape starts going haywire...