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'A Little More
Conversation'
Part Five -
Similar
To-do list.
Lord Círdan re. complaint, naval rations. Explain in small
words – not my job.
Copy P. Copy E G-g?
Encrypt and send signal, Lord Celeborn. Rephrase commands as
requests.
Make arrangements, surprise inspection, Gaernaith
Draft outline – progress report for P to present, full Council.
Lord Glorfindel re:
Mortal customs
Tree felling
Mules
Status of Imladris
Other
Kitchen scraps, kittens.
Lamp oil, small flask.
Learn: Harad, 2nd Kingdom genealogy, both lines. Language exercises
87 – 92.
To: Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin.
Dear Lord Glorfindel,
I hope that you are all well. The courier tells me it started to
snow shortly after she left Imladris, and I assume that, like us,
you are now deep in the throes of winter. We had a violent storm
last night with waves so high that several of the fishing boats at
the public harbour were badly damaged, and the wind caused one of
the trees on the border of the palace garden to split in two.
Tonight another storm has come in off the sea - thunder, lightning,
driving rain - and I wondered if you were all under shelter and able
to keep warm and dry.
I am writing this while sitting on my bed so that I can look out the
window and watch the lightning. I saw it raining out at sea from the
dining hall earlier, but of course I do not have an ocean view as
those rooms are reserved for the use of senior members of government
and his majesty's relatives. Instead, I am on the second floor and
look out over the town, which is a more homely scene and makes me
feel part of Mithlond and connected to all those elves whose
lanterns I see shining in windows all the way up the hill. In its
way I think this is a better outlook than the front rooms offer, far
more peaceful and … comfortable.
I hope winter has been kinder to Imladris than you assumed when you
wrote to me. I found your ideas for screens very interesting and
enjoyed the detail of your sketches. Are there any young trees – not
much above seedlings - that could be taken from the valley and
planted in rows to form wind breaks? You could plant something like
holly bushes between them, perhaps? Otherwise, well anchored
structures such as you propose would not only be helpful but could
also make an attractive addition to the architecture.
I am sad to hear that trees will have to be cut down, but if the
Silvan elves are in agreement it must indeed be necessary. I assume
the logs provided will be used in your building efforts? I love
wood, and agree with you that stone offers a rather solid,
determined kind of appearance. In Harlindon they build a lot with
that grey granite you mentioned, and I find it oppressive.
The formal status of Imladris has been upgraded from ‘military
provision and medical refuge’ to ‘secure settlement’. His Majesty
likes the concept of a civilian community attached to a garrison in
what is fast becoming enemy territory. Recruitment is being
conducted by someone other than myself, but if you supply me with a
list of the skills you most lack, I can try to persuade the relevant
official to prioritise them. The first settlers were meant to reach
you within the next two months, but many are rightly reluctant to
travel such a distance at this time of year. Perhaps early spring
would be more likely, especially as they will need to travel in
smallish parties to evade the Enemy's forces.
My sister, Brennil, does not live in Mithlond although she
occasionally visits. She chose not to sail with our mother and
instead joined one of the wandering companies loosely affiliated to
Gildor Inglorion. She is skilled in medical matters like burns and
setting broken bones, plus she helps with her company’s horses. No
doubt you are aware that the Sindarin word ‘Brennil’ means ‘lady’ –
well, my sister is the most inappropriately named elf I have ever
met. In appearance we have very little in common as she favours my
father’s light brown hair and green eyes, but we share a sense of
humour and both love reading.
Did Amalek explain anything about the customs you referred to in
your previous letter? Mortals have many interesting beliefs about
the moon which, unlike us, they regard as female, a symbol of their
mother goddess. Sowing and planting, the start of new ventures, and
all legal undertakings commence at the waxing of the moon to
encourage strength and prosperity, while conclusions and things like
weeding and spring cleaning are left for its waning. In the dark of
the moon - what they call the Dead Days - they swear no oaths, nor
do they marry or take any decisions that will affect the common
good.
As the ones who bring forth new life and nurture it, they see women
as representatives of the Earth Mother and believe they, rather than
warlike men, are best suited to ensure fertility in nature. The
concept is similar to our own conviction that a warrior cannot also
be a true healer, perhaps? Women tend to have defter hands and more
patience than is the case with most men, which strikes me as an
equally sound reason to leave such matters in their care. I think if
we trust in something strongly enough, we can make it so? For that
reason, I would not dispute or mock the value of their customs, as I
sometimes saw done during my childhood. My uncle was in the habit of
dismissing all mortal traditions as primitive superstition, which I
think was very judgmental.
I enjoyed your description of Imladris, which sounds like a
potential paradise - minus the east wind, of course. His Majesty is
extremely busy right now, naturally, but after I read it to him, he
expressed a wish to one day visit and see ‘Lord Elrond’s valley’ for
himself. You might be amused to learn that a slightly expanded
version is also now being used as an aid in recruiting further
settlers.
In answer to your question about what happened at Sirion, His
Majesty took care of me for nearly two weeks, and I was reunited
with my mother and sister on Balar – my older brother died during
the evacuation. His Majesty used to write my mother a few times a
year to ask after us, and when she decided to sail, she inquired if
he could perhaps find a position for me in his household. The end
result was that I spent ten years in the army as he felt I needed
experience before he could offer me an administrative position of
any sensitivity. I was stationed at several of the smaller garrisons
and for the final seven months commanded a little-used border post
up in the Ered Luin. I have been part of his staff for slightly more
than a year now, and am only just starting to feel at home in
Mithlond.
As requested, I enclose a copy of the book Fabled Gondolin by
Demmion, an elf who has acquired a formidable reputation as
Gondolin’s primary historian. I think this might, in part, be due to
the fact that most of those who survived the destruction of your
city as well as the turmoil of the War of Wrath accepted the pardon
and sailed almost as soon as Lord Eönwë issued the invitation,
leaving no one here with an inclination to naysay his claims. I
await your response to it with a great deal of curiosity.
It had not occurred to me that Quenya was spoken extensively in
Gondolin although it certainly makes sense. I can well understand
that King Turgon would feel his city fell outside of Elu Thingol’s
jurisdiction. Your use of the Sindarin form of your name caused me
to assume this was also the tongue in which you were most at ease. I
am familiar with the accent from my childhood in Sirion where our
near neighbours were from Gondolin, but gave no thought as to its
basis. My spoken Quenya is confined to such things as the New Year’s
Hymn to Varda, but I read it adequately and could attempt to
continue our correspondence in it, should you so wish – although I
warn you in advance, my grasp of tense and gender are less than
scholarly.
Reading back, this letter seems to have developed a tone that is
rather more personal than formal. At the risk of seeming forward, I
wonder if you would be willing for us to continue along these lines
as well as dealing with official matters? Imladris sounds like an
amazingly beautiful place, and I very much enjoy hearing about your
activities there, and about Háran, and the cows, and -- everything
else. I note you have also asked quite a few questions about my
life, which leads me to hope this request might not be wholly
unwelcome. Should you find it inappropriate, I will quite understand
and apologise in advance.
On a final, more practical note. Would Imladris benefit from the
introduction of more mules? I know you found it difficult to get
them down the trail, but I thought you might like a few more for
heavier work and later for ploughing? Or perhaps a couple of those
big farm horses would be a better choice, as you could breed them?
Also… how about goats? Goats can provide milk, goats’ milk cheese
has a lovely, delicate flavour, and the fur of the long-haired
variety can be spun into a yarn of amazing softness. They can also
be eaten but tend to be tough, and I recall you mentioned you no
longer eat meat. They can live almost anywhere, eat anything, and I
think the slopes of a deep valley might suit them rather well.
Erestor.
PS. I have taken the liberty of sending you a new winter cloak. As
it is a gift, I hope that, unlike its predecessor, it will not be
passed on to someone else but kept for your own use as I imagine the
nights are quite cold now. Are there any other personal items you
need replaced? I would be happy to see to such matters for you, if
you like.
E.
~*~*~*~*~
To admin assistant Erestor.
Dear Erestor,
Thank you so much for the cloak. I was at a loss for words when
Cyllon gave me not just a letter but a parcel as well. Your gift was
both unexpected and very well timed. The weather has closed in, snow
fell yesterday, and the air is so cold that our breath mists it,
even in the middle of the day. I have not been fond of winter since
we crossed the Helcaraxé - that biting iciness stays with one
forever after. This is wonderfully large and warm, and blue happens
to be one of my favourite shades. Thank you again for your
thoughtfulness.
Be assured, nothing would make me happier than for us to share a
correspondence that is more friendly than official. I believe I
mentioned before how much I enjoy hearing from you and look forward
to the mail delivery. Anyhow, I think our exchanges have been
getting progressively less official over the months, which probably
had a lot to do with you kindly filling in many of the gaps in my
knowledge of more recent events. I am regularly struck by how
similar our views seem to be, and how often your thinking appears to
mirror my own.
One gap that I might have preferred to leave unfilled relates to
this so-called History of Gondolin. Erestor, yes, the city was
modelled to a large extent on Tirion, and a certain standard of
behaviour was adhered to that resembled the manner of life across
the sea, but that was on the surface only. We were to all intents
and purposes under siege, and needed to be totally self-sufficient.
Population growth was strictly controlled, as was access to food,
clothing - almost any commodity that you might care to name. We
lived most frugally; display was kept purely for public show, one of
the means King Turgon used to keep morale high.
As for his tale of my passing… all I can say is that is not how I
recall the event. I am quite certain I neither uttered a rousing
speech before speeding to attack our pursuers, nor did I have a
conversation of any shape or form with the Balrog. I recall doing
any amount of swearing, I recall knowing I was about to die, I
recall the smoke making me cough and my eyes tear up… but no actual
dialogue.
Though it spoke Quenya. And it knew my name.
I'm glad you liked my ideas for wind screens. Sael feels they have
some merit as well, although he says, as you did, that natural means
like trees and bushes would also serve well. However, the ground is
quite rocky, and actually I like the idea of trees near the main
house - they always feel welcoming. I begin to suspect the
architectural style of Imladris will be so chaotic that it will
eventually be a thing in and of itself, ‘Imladrian = a jumbled
hodge-podge masquerading as eclectic’. And yes, I am smiling as I
write this.
Tree clearing went on until the weather rendered it impossible. I
can mention it almost casually now, but at the time it was a deeply
emotional matter, very upsetting for all of us no matter how
necessary. For each tree sacrificed, we have agreed to plant a
sapling either here on the garrison side of the river or to form
breaks in the proposed farm land. We have a goodly supply of
firewood now, neatly chopped and stored in our only brick structure
to date, along with salted meat and dried vegetables. It is
generally referred to as The Store, because anything you want is
probably stacked in there somewhere.
The larger logs have been put to building use as you suggested. I
agree with you about wood being warmer looking and more inviting
than stone, although stone certainly gives an impression of
permanence and reliability. We have access to some limestone, so I
was thinking we should at least use it for the entrance façade of
the main building. What do you think?
Our change in status to 'secure settlement' was greeted with a great
deal of excitement, in fact, we had quite a feast last night -
although being careful not to over-indulge in our carefully stored
winter fare. We even opened one of the few barrels of wine we have
managed to salvage from the deserted homesteads my patrols at times
pass. (I always make them leave a note under my name offering to
replace what has been taken when the owners return at the end of the
war.) The entire community was present for the celebration, even the
two babies, Due to the awful weather, the cooking area has been
expanded into a communal kitchen and eating place. The coals of the
great fire pit never die back totally and form the only fire I allow
on a permanent basis as the area is very well concealed. It is the
one place that is consistently warm, which means it has become a
popular gathering place for all, both soldier and civilian alike.
You ask what skills we have most need of here? In truth, the answer
is anything and everything, from candle makers to cobblers. We keep
finding simple but vital tasks for which we lack expertise. My only
stipulation, which I cannot emphasise enough, is that they be
willing to work, because building a new settlement takes a great
deal of application. Young families would be perfect - I love the
fact that we have so many children here, although its effect on
children is also one of the saddest aspects of war. I suppose though
that if I were newly married and had a young child, I would be in no
hurry to take my chances in a place that might one day be discovered
by the Enemy’s forces. Still, Imladris can and will be held. While
everyone else has been involved in creativity with wood, mud and
brick, I have been busy tightening control of the few access points
to our valley. By now I think I can state with a great deal of
confidence that no one can enter Imladris without our knowledge and
goodwill.
I found what you told me about mortal customs interesting,
especially the fact that they place such importance on the phases of
the moon, the symbolism of which makes a lot of sense. I really
liked what you said about belief taking on shape and form if it is
strong enough. I suspect thoughts - faith - like that form part of
the way we are starting to view this valley.
A few more mules would be most useful. I mentioned your idea of
'farm horses' to Amalek, and he expressed a hope that it was more
than just a passing thought on your part. Apparently they would be
every bit as useful as mules and, as you say, they can be bred. I am
unfamiliar with working horses, but he speaks well of a breed that
is exceptionally hardy, big boned and muscled and having immense
stamina. Sounded like the average war-horse to me, but I do not
pretend to be an expert in such matters. Mules, horses, we accept
either or both with gratitude.
Amalek is not fond of goats. He says they will eat our vegetables. I
liked the idea of milk and cheese, but he says this is why we have
cows. He is difficult to argue with as he understands clearly that
he is the farming expert and that it is my place to defer to him. I
rather enjoy that -- he gives respect where it is earned, I think,
with little regard to rank. There are not enough people like that,
or if there are I seem not to meet them.
I have no idea why your military background should have come as a
surprise to me, after all, your current position would assume
someone with an understanding of army life. Did you enjoy your
mountain posting? I would have thought a border post would have been
fairly busy? Were you high up in the mountains or just in the
foothills as we are here? I used to like taking part in the patrols
up into the Encircling Mountains, I love mountains, like the feeling
of being so high above the world. The air tastes different, doesn't
it?
If you need to practice your Quenya, I am more than willing to
oblige, but if your offer was made purely as a courtesy to me, as I
think it was, then we should continue writing to one another in
Sindarin, because mine badly needs improvement. I write it well
enough - well, I think I do, I studied it for years - but I need to
get used to thinking in it as well, not Quenya. Only then will I
become completely at ease with speaking it, I think.
Although I admit to being tempted.
I was astonished to learn your sister is with Gildor. I had no idea
what had become of him and never thought to ask when I was in
Lindon. I think I just assumed that if he had survived he would have
gone home by now. Not that it seems likely, now I consider it - he
always had a love of adventure and of doing things his own way. I
think we are fourth cousins or something along those lines - I
suspect you may have realised by now that I have a huge extended
family.
I asked casually here about the wandering companies and was almost
inundated with information - I get the impression it is a lifestyle
that appeals vastly to people who have no urge to try it themselves
but still love hearing about it? What decided your sister to join
them? I assume a relationship of some kind - this is the usual
reason people make big changes in their lives. I gather the
companies are a collection of loosely-related groups under Gildor's
overall leadership? This being the case, I suppose your sister
seldom sees my cousin, but if she should, please ask her to convey
my greetings. It has been a long, long time, even for me. For him it
would be nigh on two thousand years since last we met.
Right now it is quite early in the morning. A few not very happy
birds are singing, the sun is trying to make herself seen from
between the clouds, and I am sitting on a flat rock overlooking our
camp. The bushes and trees are all dusted with white, and they make
a beautiful sight in the pale sunlight. The river is rushing past
loudly, and I think we will need to keep an eye on its level for
fear of flooding when the snows melt at the beginning of spring.
Beyond this haven, I know that war rages, that people are fighting
and dying, but here - here, life is hard but at the same time it
feels so peaceful and secure. It is as though nothing from outside,
no matter how bad, could ever reach in and touch us here. And if we
just put sufficient effort into it, Imladris cannot fail to grow and
prosper.
I can see across the river to the houses, and I pause every so often
in my writing to watch the morning activity there. The scouts on the
high ground have given the all clear, there are no strangers in the
vicinity, and fires have been lit. I can smell smoke as breakfast is
prepared, that wonderfully sharp, woody scent that is never quite so
pleasing at any other time of the year – something about cold air
and wood fire, they just fit together. It makes me think of your
remark about watching the lamps and feeling connected to all those
other elves in Mithlond. That seems to be yet another thing we have
in common, because I have a very similar feeling here, of a sense of
community in a place of hope. My job is to make certain that hope is
never threatened, and I pray I will never fail these people who have
been so willing to put their trust in me.
Háran has a new friend, a young elf called Níngabel who mainly works
in the kitchen. Did I mention that, as well as being good looking
and loyal, he is also a most intelligent dog?
I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Yours, Glorfindel.
PS – I think you can drop the ‘Lord’, don’t you?
~*~*~*~*~
Part 6
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