Work Text:
HEAD ARCHIVIST'S NOTE: The following contains materials closely related to the Finwion royal line and must be handled with utmost care. You must present the archivist with your clearance AND a written permission from the Committee. Any research citing this document must be agreed with the Committee and reviewed before its publication. The Committee and the Head Archivist reserve the right to veto any research using this document.
Table of contents
- Introduction
- "The Portrait of the Youngest Son of Finwë Ñoldóran"
- Description
- Context
- Istadis Amarthiel
- First-generation noldorin royal family
- Finarfin Finwion
- The conversation between Finrod Felagund and Istadis Amarthiel
- Context
- Record of the conversation, as written by Finrod Felagund
- Commentary of Finarfin Finwion
- Context
- Commentary
- Conclusion
1. Introduction
"The Portrait of the Youngest Son of Finwë Noldoran" is a joint name for three separate documents, dating to various periods of history, two of which were recovered from the ruins of Nargothrond during F.A. 549 by the forces of King Gil-Galad Ereinion. Archived with an expressed permission of King of the Noldor in Aman Finarfin Finwion, seeing how the issues discussed are closely related to His Majesty's life and bloodline. All further research and references must be reviewed and agreed with the Head Archivist.
The document contains of three parts: the the outline of a scrapped portrait titled "The Portrait of the Youngest Son of Finwë Ñoldóran", a record of conversation between Finrod Felagund and Istadis Amarthiel, and a commentary to the conversation by King of the Noldor in Aman, further referenced as Finarfin Finwion, made during the winter of F.A. 550. The document provides a first-hand insight into private life of the first-generation noldorin royal family, as well as into the life in Tirion upon Túna during the Years of Trees.
The significance of the document as one of the few surviving written artefacts of the First Age of Beleriand cannot be overlooked, seeing how the majority of elven lore and tradition is passed through songs and tales. Though elven memory is spotless, many things are too dark or too bitter to be passed on: that is why, despite having many survivors of the First Age still around, any recollections of its events, be it written or oral, are scarce. Having ones of the greatest elves of ages past and current recall it in such vivid detail is a treasure that should not be looked upon lightly.
The following will discuss the portrait and the conversation. Finarfin Finwion's commentary will be added next, with editor's additions.
2. The Portrait of the Youngest Son of Finwë Ñoldóran
"The Portrait of the Youngest Son of Finwë Ñoldóran", a scrapped painting by Istadis Amarthiel dating to YoT 1279. Recovered from the ruins of Nargothrond from the remains of Finrod Felagund's personal library, at F.A. 549.
2.1. Description
"The Portrait of the Youngest Son of Finwë Ñoldóran" is a scrapped painting by Istadis Amarthiel, a noldorin painter born in Tirion upon Túna, later one of the Etyañgoldi. The sketch depicts Finarfin Finwion during his youth, dating to YoT 1279, and was made a few month before his coming of age. The prince wears formal attire, with King Finwë's heraldry especially prominent, though at this point we can already see the beginnings of the signature Arafinwean serpents. The attire is very simple; though the embroidery on the shirt speaks of great skill, the lack of jewellery is uncharacteristic for what is known about noldorin customs at that time. As the Conversation between Finrod Felagund and Istadis Amarthiel later confirms, the choice has been deliberate from the side of the master.
The portrait has never been finished. Though Istadis Amarthiel begun the sketching process including picking colours, it never reached the painting process. The portrait that has been made instead did not survive; though it has been replicated in later years in Nargothrond, it did not survive its fall. As for now, this is the only true-to-life portrait of Finarfin Finwion, the rest being made by memory or oral descriptions post-War of Wrath.
2.2. Context
1. Istadis Amarthiel
Istadis Amarthiel, Lississë Hilyinde at birth (q. lissë - sweet, hilya - to follow) is a noldorin portrait painter most known for her "Portrait of King Fingolfin and Lady Lalwen", though also notable for many portraits of third-generation Finwëan family. Born in Tirion upon Túna in YoT 1156, she was raised by two craftspeople: her mother was a sculptor and her father a carpenter. While no records are available regarding their works and significance, it is safe to assume their craft lives on today, seeing how neither left Valinor during the Flight of Noldor or to participate in War of Wrath.
At the age of 53, Lississë achieved a spot in Tirion's Academy of Fine Arts, pursuing portrait painting. She begun receiving commissions soon after, and upon the end of her education was known as a skilled master. Her first royal commission was a coming-of-age portrait of Findis Finwiel, and from then the royal portraits were done by her or her atelier (with the exception of Arafinwean portraits, which were made by masters of Alqualondë.)
The reasons for "The Portrait of the Youngest Son" being scrapped were not entirely known, and were a subject to many speculations in their time. It is known from the Conversation that Istadis, being granted foresight of young prince's fate, scrapped the portrait to begin another one, The Portrait of the King of Noldor in Aman, which was finished during the Darkening and delivered to Finarfin Finwion after his coronation. No replicas of the portrait were made in Beleriand.
Istadis followed King Fingolfin to Beleriand through Helcaraxë, where she partially lost her eyesight and most of the movement in her legs, as well as three fingers on her right hand.
Her life in Beleriand is more well-recorded. It is known she continued to paint, and through her career experimented with styles and formats. Many third-generation Finwëan portraits are assigned to her, including "The Portrait of Maedhros Feanorion" (original now lost) and "King Finrod Felagund". Having eventually settled down in Nargothrond, she opened her own school, which has produced many skilled painters active today still.
Istadis fled Nargothrond to Sirion shortly before its fall. She survived the Third Kinslaying, being spared after her assistant was struck down, and spent her remaining years in Beleriand with Círdan the Shipwright. She sailed West after the War of Wrath, and no information regarding her further fate has reached these shores. Her work and influence continues to live through her many apprentices, now great masters themselves, in workshops and academies of Eregion and Lindon.
Finarfin Finwion
Finarfin Finwion was born in YoT 1230 as the last child of the union of Finwë Ñoldóran and Indis of the Vanyar. In Beleriand most known for being the head of the House of Arafinwë, and one of the leading figures of the Host of the West. Became the crowned king of Noldor in Aman some time after the Darkening. Not much is known about his kingship or life in the First Age.
He was called by Valar to prepare the Noldor for war when Eärendil arrived to Valinor. He and Ingwion Ingweron were the leaders of the Eldar of the West under command of maia Eönwë, Herald of the Valar.
His commentary to this document was written during the winter of F.A. 550, when fighting on both sides was stilled as the weather was especially harsh. It was signed and sealed, and entrusted to Head Archivist for preservation.
3. The conversation between Finrod Felagund and Istadis Amarthiel
3.1. Context
The following is a recall of a conversation Finrod Felagund had with Istadis Amarthiel, regarding the scrapped painting, his father's youth, and speculations about the future.
The Conversation is not titled, and reads a lot like a diary entry, though no similar entries credited to Felagund were found. A total of four pages long, a lot of it, despite restauration efforts, is illegible due to prolonged exposure to damp and dust.
The document was found next to the Portrait in the remains of Felagund's rooms. It should be noted that, despite most of Nargothrond being plundered, Finrod Felagund's rooms remained mostly in tact. Despite appearing destroyed on the surface, a lot of things of sentimental value, such as clothes, books, smaller jewelry etc. remained intact during the initial plundering of Nargothrond.
The Conversation starts with Felagund talking about his first meeting with Istadis in her atelier, where he observed her work with apprentices and was further impressed by her skill. Since the next few paragraphs are illegible, it can be assumed the conversation topic shifted to the Ice and Valinor, leading them to reminisce on their years in Tirion. In the text that follows, Felagund talks about his memories of Aman and of his father.
Felagund's writing vividly describes the setting and gives detailed insight into his thoughts and emotional states. Due to the state of the document, it cannot be surely known when exactly it was written; but it can be assumed it was after F.A. 394, when Istadis arrived to Nargothrond, and before F.A. 396, when she was first commissioned by Felagund.
3.2. Record of the conversation, as written by Finrod Felagund
The following was found in Felagund's chambers in Nargothrond. Transcribed by N.M., during F. A. 549-550. Archived by S.R., the Head Archivist.
The beginning of the document is illegible. The transcription begins from the first legible line.
... of Nargothrond are things of incredible beauty, and though my hands are among those that carved these passages, still I find myself in quiet awe of them, especially when the day is quiet and the lamps cast a pleasant silver light. They make the shadows closer, I think, and younger; it is as if they whisper to me, beckoning me to play.
I do not heed their call, usually, for if I followed each little thing that spoke to my heart, I would get nothing done in all my life. Though indeed some good things came out of my wanderlust: [name illegible] I still miss.
The carvings are centuries old, yet I still remember every line and pattern I had a part in. Best of both Eldar and Casári worked here, and I am honoured to count among them; an for many of them this place became home, and is home still. Skill is valued in Nargothrond; beauty, too...
[Here the writing is smudged. Resumes a paragraph later.]
...the best master of her kind, or so Aunt Lalwen said. Indeed even the copy looked brilliant, and the detail work was outstanding. It was placed in the royal gallery; privately I find it a great comfort. It has been a while since I saw my king uncle or lady aunt, and though their faces only exist on a portrait here, I am glad to see they hardly changed.
I met Istadis at her workshop. Or, well, strictly said, I —[illegible]— named Midhel, I think, let me in. Though mostly empty for now, I knew at once this place was prepared for something grander: for dozens of people working, learning, creating. The emptiness of the space—its lack of décor and interior beyond absolutely necessary, safe for the spots where the handful of Istadis' current apprentices made place for themselves—caught me off guard; but as Midhel explained, Istadis preferred for each of her artists to choose and pick what best suited their spirit while they worked, and when this place will be running in truth it will be as bright and colourful and diverse as art itself.
Istadis met me in her own studio—[smudged]—to see her creations half-alive, staring at me from the limbo between line art and flat colours and non-existent shading, was a privilege. She explained each work to me, though some of the faces I could already recognize—many of Nargothrond's nobility hurried to commission her as soon as they heard she arrived.[1]
We talked of her plans. The workshop will soon be too small, she reckoned, for Nargothrondim were always eager to learn. How soon<[2] remained unsaid; might as well take some time, for what I know.
[The next bit is illegible. At this point Felagund shifts from passive speech to dialogue.]
"...both my parents were artists themselves. Though I admit I always thought my mother exceeded my father by far."
[illegible] ...your Highness, for your father's gift was not in detail or truth of the picture. Having seen his works in Tirion, I knew behind the paint the same motive that drums in the back of my mind each time I paint; the knowledge of the future, or else [smudged]...
Her words surprised me. It was believed my father had little foresight, and that my line got it from my mother's side.
"If future was revealed to him," I said, "then my father did a great job of keeping it to himself; not once have we thought..."
"Foresight is not all words," said Istadis, "though indeed most of our kind experiences it so. But what is a brush stroke, if not a word unsaid? What are colours but words, symbols but language? When we were first brought into Arda, we had no tengwar nor quills; but we painted, on the walls of our shelters, on the bark of the tree, etched the tales into our own body. Art is language enough."
"You speak like you know it first-hand."
"I have tutored many; seen it myself more. Not all are gifted in such way, of course." She wheeled over to one of her works, and turned it so it faced the light. "Do not deem me vain for what I will say next; but surely you have memory of your grandfather's gallery."[3]
I did. She was talking about the portraits of my uncle and aunts, of course, as well as some of my cousins. Brilliant in execution, always pulling you in, making you look for hours trying to glimpse something just out of reach.
"It is always important to know the person you paint, with portraits," she said. "And what better way than to glimpse their future. Always the glimpses, never the full tale; like pieces falling together."
"A great gift to have."
"Or a great curse. But you, of course, must know that."
For a while I was silent; gone to memories. Valinor, days of my youth, forever out of reach! The Treelight, my grandfather's halls. My father, my mother. All gone now, succumbed to darkness and grief that stains my memory of them. And...
[Illegible for the remainder of the page.]
"... a few months before your lord father's fiftieth birthday: enough time to finish a portrait." She handed me the sketch, and in the lines I immediately recognized my father's face. It suddenly struck me, the youthfulness of it; in my memory he is always older. Wiser, too; his features softer. The portrait I remember from my grandfather's gallery is different: with golden colours prominent, with my father dressed more regally, his chin tilted with more pride[4]. Here he is dressed simply, his hair let down. Even now, as I write this, his portrait is before me; only now that I see his face, half-done both in past and on paper, that I realize how I miss him, my dear, my kind father. Deep down I am glad, I think, that no true depiction of my mother remains, for all that we have is memory, and memory smoothens the edges; I could not bear to have both of them look at me from the half-life of a portrait. But I distract myself.
"I met him before starting this," Istadis said, "as I always do with my patrons. His royal father, King Finwë, insisted on joining us, but left after some arguing: I prefer authenticity which could not be achieved with someone else present. Your lord father, bless his soul, answered as honestly as he could, and we began to plan the composition and other nuances. The next day I came to make sketches. This is the only one remaining: couldn't bear to leave it behind. Hate having unfinished job: though this one is bound to never see its end."
She started showing me the details. "No circlet," she says, "no ornate jewellery, no braids. A decision on your father's end: he wished to remain in shadow of the others, I deem. The bracelet was Telerin work. I might be wrong, forgive me my poor recollection of then-current gossip, but I think the royal family was to officiate the engagement between him and your lady mother soon after the day he turned fifty: it was, I think, a gift."
It was, I remember it. Given by—[smudged]—still must have it. Or not. I do not remember him wearing it in Araman. He might have gotten rid of it after—well. To wear something of Telerin origin after we moved from Alqualondë would be the highest disgrace: if my father is anything, he is not a hypocrite.
[Illegible.]
"... the knowledge," she continued, tapping her forehead, "was there. Each line felt wrong, each stroke out of place. The colours were non-sensical, palettes falling apart under closer inspection—Valar witness, it was as if brushes themselves wished not to fall as I wanted them to. The knowledge! Future is easier to tell when you don't fight it, so I stopped. I wished not to give your father work half-done: I said their Majesties I will not be finishing the commission, out of respect for them. Your grandmother the Queen was cross with me.
"And yet I kept the canvas, just as I kept this sketch: I cannot let go of my works for the life of me. Sometimes I would take it and add a line, a stroke, a detail: and those felt right, when I did not force the brush to follow my own design. Year after year, line after line. Looking at me was a stranger; in a shadowed room, too dark to be able to see very well, with eyes blue and pale and haunted, a royal mantle on his shoulders, a heavy crown on his head. I thought him a thing of my imagination, at first; but then the years of unrest came, and your father moved to Tirion, and I could no longer deny the resemblance. I ordered my sister, who stayed behind, to deliver the portrait when the time came: added some finishing touches in the light of fire from the street, and then was gone. "The King of the Noldor in Aman", I called it."
"My father was no king."
"Perhaps," she shrugged, "but we will never know."
I look at the echoes of the past before me now, as I write, and try to imagine what face was painted on that second portrait. Try to imagine what he looks like now, are his features changed. My father, my dear, wise father. The memory of Araman is blurred, but I can still remember his eyes.
I know you will read this, atya, I just—
The remaining text shifts to quenya. Translation is unavailable, and the fragment was taken out by the request of Finarfin Finwion, who is presumably still in its possession. It can be assumed the king of Nargothrond, known for being gifted with foresight himself, has predicted the fate of the entry he was writing.
No copies of the missing fragment were made, as per Finarfin Finwion's request.
4. Commentary of Finarfin Finwion
4.1. Context
As the title of this section suggests, it was written by Finarfin Finwion. Original of the text is attached to this file, as well as a transcription of it for easier comprehension.
When the Conversation was recovered from the rubble of Felagund's dwelling, the Host of the Valar had already moved forward in its positions, having secured its claim on Nargothrond and surrounding territories. The reconstruction and archival processes begun as soon as the document was assessed as relatively well-preserved, and, seeing how it was a matter closely related to his family, a copy was sent to Finarfin Finwion, who has later also reviewed the original finding and provided clarity on some of the fragments earlier deemed illegible. When asked by the Head Archivist to provide some clarity and context to the document, he agreed, and the Commentary was concluded during the winter of F.A. 550. The Commentary contains Finarfin Finwion's reflections on the text, as well as recollections of some of the events mentioned.
4.2. Transcription of the Commentary
The following is a transcribed text originally written by Finarfin Finwion. The original document is attached.
First of all, I want to inform the Archivist: it is the worst winter of my life, half of my people are starving, and I have been delivered a script dating back to my dead son. I will let you assume what you want. Second of all, by the time someone will find themselves interested in my contribution, I will have hopefully departed, either to my home or to the Halls where I eternally shall rest. Considering this, you have my full permission to do with this whatever you would like: make it public property, for all I care. Both me and my line will be gone from these lands. Having said that, I will attempt to do what the Archivist kindly asked of me: but I cannot guarantee the quality of the result. I'm as good of a writer as I am an artist.
My son begins with the description of Nargothrond, once a thing of an exceptional beauty, now a pile of ruins. I will not say much about these: I trust what remains of it will be documented and remembered, if the people I tasked to it do their job well. The halls my son once walked are unrecognizable. The Enemy left them plundered and destroyed.
Regarding Istadis herself, I knew her briefly during the time she describes. It was my fourty-ninth year, and the preparations for the day I would turn fifty begun pretty much after my begetting celebration. Most of it was very tiring and very formal, and the fact that my wife and I set to be engaged as soon as we could did not help either. Fëanor was in Tirion during that time, too, which did not ease the tensions. Istadis was known to be tasked with my portrait since the beginning, seeing how my mother favoured her a lot and was her most influential patron. As my son notes, I decided to be dressed rather plainly: not long before the agreed date I overheard Fëanor expressing himself rather pointedly about my mother's children and our habit of preening like entitled peacocks, and while I was the most meek in my family, I had my own ways of making a statement. The decision upset my father, puzzled my mother, did not even reach Fëanor, and was overall confusing to everyone.
Istadis Amarthiel was very popular between the Noldor at that time; her philosophy became prominent between the artists and, from what I know, her school of thought and technique laid ground for art for centuries to come, though her influence grew significantly lesser in Aman ever since the Darkening. Our first session was mostly talking: trying up different poses, bringing finishing touches on the decision of what details to improve. My father wished to be present then, of course: he insisted on being present during all the preparations, whenever Fëanor's presence allowed it, of course. Though I enjoyed his attention, it grew overbearing soon; and I knew, too, that father was doing most of it out of some guilt that he felt before all the children of Indis.
Istadis and I have reached some common understanding, I think; though we barely spoke about it, both she and I felt great darkness looming before the Eldar, as did many others. During other sessions she spoke about her skill while taking sketches and figuring the poses; some of that stuck with me, I think, and though I often let my foresight guide my hand while I painted, I could hardly ever discern what was it my heart feared. Not long after beginning to work with paint and colours, Istadis informed us she could no longer continue. My mother was upset, my father puzzled, and I thought, "Surely this is not the last time I am being painted; there will be chance again." Oh, well. Talk about prophesy.
I crossed paths with Istadis a few times after that, but never for long: she lost the favour in my mother's eyes and was rarely seen at the palace afterwards, though her popularity only grew. She followed my brother through Ice, and I did not see her again until Balar, where our armies did not linger long. I do not think she saw me: from what I heard, her physical condition, including eyesight, was worsening after Sirion, and many feared she would fade[5]
Regarding my foresight, it has never been as strong as my wife's, but my children did not get it all from her. In fact, I would say hers was only passed onto Galadriel, who ever felt the most at home with the Teleri. My son is right, however: I never truly felt the need to talk about it, and most thought the gift to be all Lady Eärwen's. As for my art, I preferred abstraction, which, as far as I know, is not fully appreciated in artistic circles, so many would hesitate to call me an artist at all. I was, thankfully, decent in woodcarving, which brought my father some sort of reassurance: his son did after all have some of the Noldor in himself.
After Istadis left, and after my coronation, I was indeed delivered the portrait she talks about. I keep it in the archive away from anyone's eyes, together with portraits of my brothers and sister, and most of my nephews and nieces. Some of them are still in the gallery, though put now further and visited lesser: even those provoked some controversy. The portraits of my children hang in my private residence, hidden behind veils for most of the time. "The Portrait of the King of Noldor in Aman" is exactly as haunting as Istadis describes, and I cannot bear to see it for too long. It is accurate as a reflection I see in the mirror, and all more uncanny for it: like a statue looking a bit too alive for comfort of the beholder, like it watches you in turn. Artistically speaking, the work is beautiful, skilfully crafted. I will say, however, that it did not bring me any comfort or reassurance once I returned from Taniquetil to an empty palace, broken people, and skies with no light.
My son has ever seen the best in people; his love ever blinded him. Do not take his words about me for granted. Ever I took the easier way out, ever I escaped: from my family, my titles, my troubles. We parted not in love, but in grief and resentment. All of my children I abandoned, those whom I once counted between the greatest treasures of the world. In blood and fire my path begun, in blood and fire it ends; if in the beginning I was an unwilling spectator, now I deal it with my own hand. I am afraid my son would not recognize me, if he saw me now, just as he barely recognized my face on the paper—and if he did, he would step away in disgust. Gone is the wisdom and softness. Nothing remains but wrath and rage.
I assume this is way shorter than what the Archivist hopes for. I hope you have understanding: I can hear wolves howling outside, though it will be a while until they gather to strike. The candle is running low, and my fingers are growing numb: I would hate to lose them in the middle of the war, to cold of all things. This will be sealed soon, and you will depart swiftly to ride under Tilion's guidance. May Elbereth's blessing be with you at all times, and may you serve this world to the best of your spirit.
Signed,
Arafinwë Noldoran, king of the Noldor in Aman and leader of the Host of the West.
This concludes the Commentary.
5. Conclusion
As was already said, all research using this document must be agreed with Committee and the Head Archivist herself. While it presents depth to analyse and grounds for comparison with other artefacts of the First Age, it also contains sensitive information that must be handled with care and respect.
Both Conversation and Commentary provide unique insight into relationship within the House of Arafinwë, as well as a fresh look on the phenomena of foresight noted between many of the Eldar. We believe that, in rightful hands, this will be grounds for fruitful work.
- The artworks Felagund references were most likely portraits of Lord Baudhon and his house, as well as that of Lord and Lady Faimben. These artworks are the earliest of Istadis' Nargothrond period, and as such had the most copies. The originals were lost, but some of the copies survive to this day. [return]
- Istadis' "School of Art" opened during F.A. 397, exact date unknown. Functioned through years of Felagund's rule and lasted until Nargothrond's last days, though lost popularity when Istadis departed to Sirion.[return]
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Finwë's royal gallery in Tirion; housed many great noldorin artworks, amongst which Istadis' portraits of royal family. Later in the Commentary Finarfin Finwion reveals they were removed and archived.[return]
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The portrait described has never been reproduced, nor is the original artist known. Speculation says it was painted by Calarissë Cestallë, a Vanyarin artist commissioned by Queen Indis, who has reacted sharply to Istadis' refusal to finish the painting, and it is possible the refusal costed Istadis a favour in queen's eyes.[return]
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This is true. Istadis' condition got significantly worse after the Third Kinsalying: the horror of it, as well as witnessing her assistant, with whom she passed the Grinding Ice and spent her time in Beleriand, disembowelled in front of her, was traumatic beyond doubt. Though people of Círdan the Shipwright did their best work to nurture her back to health, she grew weaker by year. In the end she lost her remaining eyesight and movement and sailed West when the pardon was granted. Her condition is believed to be treated to a certain point in the Gardens of Lórien under the guidance of Estë, but nothing certain is known.[return]