#and i just think feanor depended on that unconditional understanding

[thuringwedhil]

someday i will say something coherent about the concept of feanor needing curufin like curufin needed feanor but today is not that day

[djinmer4]

No matter how I do the math, I can’t figure out how Valinor is supposed to produce an army in less than 500 years to fight in the War of Wrath.  The Teleri aren’t fighting, only about 1/5 of the Noldor were left behind, and the Vanyar are the smallest faction of all the elves.  Even taking into account that the Noldor and Vanyar were reproducing at a faster rate than the elves of Beleriand (given that Valinor wasn’t a war zone at the time), it’s hard to believe that they were able to take casualties for decades and keep up a fighting front.  And no, magic  superpowers only go so far, especially given that these are the elves who weren’t fighting and improving their martial skills over the same period.

“So it’s settled.  Any Reborn who is ready to be released fro the Halls and willing to fight will be allowed into the army.”  Arafinwe was not as imposing as an Ainu or a Maia, but he was pulling out all the stops in order to bring an end to the argument.  “In addition, they will be put in charge of creating and running a training program for the Firstborn.”

“This is an outrage!”  Ingwion was taller than Arafinwe and the glowing hair and eyes added to that.  “The Reborn, most of them are either filthy Moriquendi who refused to come to Valinor in the first place, or criminal Noldor who abandoned our Paradise in a fit of temper, or descendants of those criminals who are tainted by their forefathers sins.  Having them join in the Blessed ranks is an abomination!”

“Fine,” cut in Olwe, just as tired as the Maia of this pointless argument.  “None of the Reborn are from the tribe of the Minyar anyway.  Any Nelyar or Tatyar, regardless of if they came from these Shores or those of the East will be welcome to join the Noldor.  You can keep your precious purity.”

“As this is what the council of the Eldar have decided, the Maiar shall do their best to assist.  Some of the servants of Tulkas, Nessa and Orome would like to help in the training.”   Eonwe straightened up and the temperature of the air dropped to near freezing.  “While the Ainur shall assist against Morgoth, the Eldar shall be governed by this council.  You have been outvoted Ingwion.  Accept the conditions and report back to your father.”

Ingwion opened his mouth again, but now Finrod jumped in.  “That is an order from a Maia of Manwe himself.  However, if the Vanyar do not wish to participate, that is understandable.  There is no glory in war.”  The reminder that this was essentially holy writ for the Vanyar and the dig at their bravery was enough to silence the Prince.  Instead he bowed and left immediately.  As soon as he was gone, Eonwe diminished, losing height and aura until he resembled some misplaced Laiquende.  His hair and wings darkened to the same speckled brown as a songbird, and his expression resembled the same tired face that Finarfin saw in the mirror.  Only his eyes showed the truth, and even those were darkened.

The High King of the Noldor left the Maia to his own thoughts.  He turned instead to the remaining members of the council: his wife Earwen, who had been leading the Teleri during the past 500 years, Olwe, who had only recently been released from the Halls, and his own son Finrod, who had been selected for his knowledge of Beleriand.  Earandil and his wife might have been better choices, but were currently recovering from the ordeal of getting to Valinor.  They wouldn’t be participating in theses meeting for a while, maybe never if they accepted Manwe’s suggestion for inspiring hope for all.  Neither of them were war leaders, so it would hardly be disastrous to miss their input.

“We can order them to go through the training, but we can’t order them to take it seriously.  And once the fighting starts, I’m not sure how well they will be able to take orders from any commanders other than the Maiar.”

“Dump them on the Maiar if they can’t be bothered to learn.”  Earwen’s voice was surprisingly bitter.  In the years since Feanor had led the Noldor out of Tirion, the dynamics of the relationship between the three tribes had changed.  The reparations from the Noldor to the Teleri had been heavy, but had worked to heal the wounds between the two.  In addition, those Reborn had worked with the two tribes, revealing how different the two Shores had become.  The Teleri and Noldor of Valinor now had more in common than they did with the Nelyar and Tatyar who had remained in the East.  In addition, almost all the factions had various bones to pick with the Ainur and the Maiar.  From the Sindar feeling abandoned by their kin, the Tatyar agreeing that the Ainur and Maiar had no right to interfere with the Noldor affairs, to all sides blaming them for the unconditional release of Morgoth.  The anger the Firstborn felt had united them against their erstwhile masters.  It had been a long, hard road to get any of them to trust the Valar again.  Even now, the Maiar would only be partners to the leaders of the Eldar, not allowed full command of any divisions.  Only the Vanyar had remained unchanged, isolated in Taniquetil.  Arafinwe thought of the last conversation he had with Findis and his mother and had to suppress his own wave of bitterness.

“Morgoth has more than Balrogs now, and even the Maiar have not fought dragons before.  I don’t want to die again because some Vanyar didn’t know how to defend against a crossbow bolt.”  Finrod had been the one adamant that all the Eldar needed training, even the Teleri who Earwen had commanded not to leave the boats.  Based on how easily his son had defeated him in a spar, Arafinwe agreed.  And Finrod had said he hadn’t even been the best warrior among the Finwions.

“We’ll rotate them through.” promised Eonwe.  “But you may want to think about how to distribute the Vanyar through the forces.”

“Too loose!  Too loose!  You’re holding your sword too loose!”  The Sinda yelled at the Vanya as he swung at the straw target.

“First you said I was holding too tight, now you say it’s too loose.  Make up your mind!”  The exasperation was so clear that the Vanya’s golden hair was standing on end.

“It has to be balanced.  Too tightly, and you’ll be too stiff to maneuver effectively.  Too loose and you risk dropping the weapon when you strike or parry.  Hold it, hold it like you would a live bird.  Not so tight as to crush it, but not so lightly so that it can escape.”

For a moment the Vanya was silent and the Sinda thought she had gotten to him.  Then he opened his mouth.  “What would a wood elf know of swords work?  You Sindar just use bows and arrows since you have no forges any way!”  With that he turned back to the target, continuing to slash with a loose grip.

Silently she walked up behind him.  When he took the next swing, she blocked him, engaged in a lock, then twisted his sword out of his hand to fall a few feet away beyond his reach.  And he had a live blade, while she had been using a wooden practice sword.  “Clearly, I know more than you do.”

“Watch your feet!  Watch your feet!”  The Noldo was observing a Teler sailor fight a Vanya warrior.  The Teleri were perhaps the most vital part of the war effort.  Without them, there would be no possible retreat, and even more importantly no supply line, and the most recent Reborn had confirmed that Beleriand was in shambles due to Morgoth’s efforts to wipe out the survivors.  There would be no living off the land on the Eastern Shore.  In addition, the Reborn had also confirmed that the Black Foe had reached the sea.  Who knew what ships or worse, what monsters might now be lurking in the Belegaer?  Even if they weren’t going to be on the frontline, every Teler now had to be able to defend his or herself.

Clearly the Vanya didn’t seem to be taking this seriously.  His footwork was slow, and didn’t take into account the swaying of the ship they were on.  The Teler, on the other hand was watching him with narrow eyes, his feet moving to keep his balance on the deck.  When the Vanya stumbled again, he rushed him, feinted a swing with the dagger in his left, ducked under the parry that left the Vanya even more off-balance and knocked him over the railing with one good shove.

“Good job!” said the Noldo, watching the Vanya flail, then sink beneath the waves.  “Where did you learn that particular trick?”

“It’s the same trick you used on me in Alqualonde.”  The two of them paused, eyeing the eight-point star featured prominently on the Noldo’s tunic.  “Knocked me right off my own ship, then you threw the dagger through my eye.  I think I drowned then, but the dagger might have killed me.”

They both observed the rising bubbles.  “On the other hand, now I know a good way to get someone off my boat in a hurry, so that day wasn’t a complete loss.”

“Do you think he remembered to lose his breastplate after he went over?  That’s how your sister got me later.  Hit me over with an oar, then I drowned from the weight of my mail.”

The bubbles stopped.  “I don’t think he did.  And after we both warned him too.”  The two former adversaries shared a smile.

“There’s no need for any of our people to learn archery.  We’ll be on the front lines, not skulking in the back.  Just make sure you don’t hit any of our people as your firing.”  Ingwion’s pompous tones set Arafinwe’s teeth on edge; he wondered how Dengwe had managed to not punch the Vanya’s teeth out.  Finrod fortunately took it upon himself to handle the situation.  “Angrod, how many orcs will you kill during a battle?”

His second son took a second to think about that.  “It depends on terrain, if the battle was planned ahead of time, if I’m only facing orcs or if they’re backed up by men or other monsters.  Also how long the battle lasts, no matter what others say, you start getting tired and your performance suffers after the first hour.  But say in a five hour battle, I may kill about 150 orcs.”  A moment of grumbling, “Maedhros and Maglor might do better but Maedhros is a phenomenal fighter  and Maglor cheats.”

“And how long will it take an archer to match that?”

“They’ll hit about 100 in the first two hours, then have to switch to melee combat after they run out of arrows.  Just on average, most of the Rangers of Doriath could do better.”

“And you’re better than average.  Most Eldar will be exceptionally lucky if they get half that.  Actually most will be lucky if they survive, never mind the actual number of enemies killed.”  Finrod held the bow out again.  “Still don’t want to learn any archery?”

Ingwion looked down his nose at the bow.  “Archery may be efficient, but it still lacks honor.  Not that I’d expect any of you exiles to understand.  We will not taint the glory of combat by using lesser weapons.”  With that he walked off, hair a glowing beacon in the evening light.

The three of them watched him go.  “There were survivors of the Great March among the Vanyar, right?” asked Angrod.

“There are.  There are even survivors from Cuivienen.  But none of them are participating in the campaign.” said Arafinwe.

“That would explain a lot.”

“The Valar have deemed that we can wait no longer.  If we intend to rescue anyone from Beleriand we must leave and soon.”  Eonwe was back in his herald form, all shining light and statuesque build.  “Has this council decided on the deposition of the army?”

“The Vanyar shall arrive first.”  Ingwion’s proud features seemed to glow in the dim confines of the tent.

“Go right ahead.” mocked Earwen.  “Be an example to the rest of us.”  She took a sip of wine.  Normally she was a much more useful participant, but having Ingwion there seemed to drive her to drink.  Having Ingwion there tempted Arafinwe to join her.

“Very well.”  Eonwe nodded, ignoring Earwen.  “Will you accept assistance from the Maiar?”

Ingwion’s arrogant stance fell into a deep bow.  “The Vanyar will be eternally grateful for any help the divine see fit to bestow on us.”

“You’re going to need it,” muttered one of Orome’s Maiar, Pallando, thought Arafinwe, but he wasn’t familiar enough to be certain.  “You all did incredibly badly in the training.”

“Very well,” nodded Eonwe.  “And the rest?”

Earwen took over from there.  “The Teleri shall remain on the ships as guards.  We shall secure the supply lines and arrange the distribution of materials.  Not just food, but medicines, shelter, even weapons and armor.  In the worst scenario, we will also coordinate the evacuation.” 

Finally it was Arafinwe’s turn.  “Most of the Reborn have decided to enlist with the Noldor, though some have joined their Teleri kin.  As such, our battalions are mixed.  We have tried to make sure that each major unit has a variety of specialists, but the bulk of the army is still infantry.  As such, we will be behind the Vanyar.  While they are in charge of claiming territory, it will be our responsibility to hold it, at least the areas that are not destroyed by the Valar in the fight.  In addition, we will take charge of negotiating with the remaining forces in Beleriand.”  Since Ingwion couldn’t negotiate his way out of a paper bag, Arafinwe thought unkindly.

“A good distribution.  As for the Maiar . . . Manwe’s forces shall be lead by myself.  We will join the Vanyar at the forefront.  We will deal with any Balrogs or dragons and provide intelligence on the other forces as well as any changes in terrain.  Should we encounter any Free Peoples not already aligned with the coalition, we shall bring representatives back to deal with Arafinwe.  They will also act as commanders for the Vanyar units since there seem to be a dearth of those.

Ulmo’s Maiar shall be lead by Osse, with Uinen staying here in Aman to assist in coordinating.  They shall patrol and try to deal with sea monsters, but the Teleri should be on guard still.  Also, Ulmo has offered to try to deal with some of the more infested areas by drowning them under tsunamis.  Hopefully once the war is over that territory can be reclaimed.

Most of Aule’s and Yavanna’s Maiar are staying behind to help the support effort.  Tulkas, Nessa and Orome’s will be joining the Noldor units.  They are to work in conjunction with those commanders.  In cases of Balrogs, dragons and other Maiar, they have command.  Otherwise they are subordinate to the ranking officers.”  Eonwe looked around.  “Any other questions?”  There were none.

“Very well then.  My Teleri will start ferrying over the Vanyar tomorrow.  Once they’ve claimed a toehold, we’ll start bringing the Noldor over to fortify the territory.”  Earwen finished the meeting with a clear dismissal.

As Arafinwe left, he was stopped by Ingwion.  “You’re not actually letting the Reborn command Noldor forces, are you?  I admit they are better than I thought, but still . . . they lack the superior qualities that define leaders.”

At this point Arafinwe was just tired of arguing.  “No, while they have joined, the army is still in control of the Noldor.”  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“It’s good to know the right kind are the ones making the decisions.”  Then he left, taking his obnoxious gold hair with him.

“Aren’t most of your generals, captains and commanders Reborn?” asked Eonwe.

“Yes, but it’s not like Ingwion needs to know that.”