“Oh! Pardon, milady, I did not realize I had company so early…” the stranger tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe and made a short bow.
“It’s been a season since my introduction at the Midsummer banquet– my travels have made me scarce lately, and no doubt there are many who are wondering exactly who this odd Vanyar fellow mucking about in the forges is! I am a teacher here, by leave of Lord Tyelperinquar– with whom I am meant to be meeting today, in his forge, where we shall begin our lesson. Which is why you find me here, ah, unaccompanied… ” He laughed, warm and slightly sheepish.
“I promise you, I am no burglar. My name is Annatar, called Aulendil. I had to see with my own eyes the great university I’d heard tell of. I know of no other place on earth but Eregion where so much knowledge and talent can be shared between so many; elf, dwarrow, and man alike! Ah, you see, I am already quite in love with this kingdom, my words are agush, do forgive me. What might your name be, dear lady?”
[snip]
The forgemaster drew back his venerable head, mouth shaped into a silent “o”.“I see! A true daughter of the Noldor indeed! I don’t doubt you have a backbone of steel. But these are happily more peaceable times, and I hope very much that those of us–” he inclined his palm, deferring to her, “or rather, those of you, who took the brunt of the continental wars, can rest, and ease your minds from such desperate thoughts.” He smiled, crooked but kindly. “Noldor… Always so hot-headed and willing to leap towards extremes… Tyelpe is often the same way. It makes him bold and tireless and in many ways I find it admirable… but I confess, it is a frustrating tendency! Perhaps it is naive of me, but this place makes me believe we can build a future where youngsters like yourself will never again have to consider whether or not they would die by the sword.”
He held out an arm, muscles beneath the soft cream robe as hard and round as a tree trunk– a smith’s arm, to be sure– and gestured invitingly that the elleth might take it. “Lead the way, milady. If my tardy pupil arrives while we are away, he will just have to wait for our return.”
“As my mother would say, or I suppose quote, ‘There is always a calm before the storm’.” She replied evenly, if not coldy. The blonde did not comment further to his words, feeling that they had somehow struck a nerve. The Noldor….they were a passionate people, and the Vanya before her was perhaps not to fond of her family. However very few were fond of her family considering the crimes that her father and uncles had committed. Crimes that seemed to placed upon her and Tyelpë’s heads more often then not.
Lothuialneth took the smith’s arm, and led him away from the forge. “He’ll probably work on something while we’re away.” She murmured. “I doubt he will be bored. Now where have you been in the city? Or have you simply been about Tyelpë?”
Aulendil laughed abruptly. “I have indeed been dogging your outrageous cousin since I arrived! He is a whirlwind of kingly duties and maddening genius– I feel I’ve simply been dragged along in his wake. I dare say it has been an immensely demanding friendship, and rewarding beyond measure. But…” he rolled his shoulders in a shrug “…the only parts of the city I am deeply familiar with at this time are the roads from the palace to the university and from there to the forges.”
As they walked the smith took note of his companion’s brittle expression, and his smile became less merry and more sympathetic. “I fear I have offended you, my lady. It is an unfortunate truth about me: my sentiments are too Vanyarin for the Noldor, and too Noldorin for the Vanyar! I am an odd sort of fish out of water wherever I go, and my travels have been far and wide… But know that whatever my manners, I consider Tyelpe to be a friend, and his forefathers to be masters of their craft. I know the wars left great rifts between our peoples. I know too that there were no simple roads to justice nor to peace. Who knows if the means justified the ends on any side.” His eyes turned to the path ahead, harder than they had been. “There were no victors of the Wars of Wrath… No party without a valid motivation, and no innocents.”
Closing the door to the forges behind them, he sighed. “All the more reason to move forward, no? Look what we can create in a city where all the speaking peoples work together… behind us the past is dim with pain, but the future shines brighter than Aman.” He stepped briskly into the morning light with the elfin lady on his arm. “But enough pontificating! Tell me what occupies you here in the city– and how do you manage such precocious kin?”
“I do not usually occupy myself in the city.” She replied quietly. “All the stone, and walls actually tend to make me feel a bit…..closed in. My mother was very close to nature, and I spent much of my time with her when I was growing. Tyelpë and I are rather differently in the respect of interest.“ To be far, her mother was a Maia, and even if she had stayed in Aman it was not only her influence that had led to her love of nature. Her father had nurtured that love as well. “I suppose it rubbed off…my mother’s love of nature and it’s creatures.”
No victors? Morgoth had in some measure in her mind. He held the Silmarils til the Valar intervened. He tortured her uncle. He had a great many victories, and her heart swelled with anger as they walked even though the emotion never made it to her face. “Perhaps not.” She replied after a moment. “No, but innocents were murdered in that war. Women and children who had done little to deserve the ending dealt to them. Yes, those that took part of the kinslayings are guilty of that atrocity, but those actions should not define their descendants.” She remembered the Doom well. It damned their whole line. Was she innpcent of killing kin? No, and she would never claim it, but it was once she was young, and terrified. Their parents had told them to stay put, but in the chaos that ensued she was left with a choice: her own life, or the life of this one elf that decided that taking barely of age elves, grandchildren of Feanor, would help. Truly had either of them been slaughtered she imagined the First Age to be far worse then it had been. “Nor should it condemn them.”
“Tyelpe is hard to follow. Sometimes it seems mad, but truly what he creates is beautiful.” Lothuialneth knew quite well that Her Uncle would be proud of his son. However, sometimes she questioned if her own father would be. If he and her mother would understand her choices in the end. “You have hit an old wound. But enough talk of sadness, how about I take you to the stables, hmmm? Surely, even a smith needs to know where to keep his horse, yes?”
As Mormiriel spoke of the toll the war had taken on innocents, Aulendil looked as if he might make retort, but he closed his lips over bitten teeth, and the spark of emotion–anger? bitterness? grief?– that lit his face quickly cooled. “Yes, the losses on all sides were…”
He shook his head. “…Would you believe, I haven’t had a horse since I left Dunland!” he laughed flatly, “I left my last steed crossing the Glanduin and took the rest of the road by foot. So of your no doubt inestimable stables, I am also ignorant. You have your work cut out for you, milady; we can begin there, and then, perhaps, you can introduce me to a venue wherein I may procure some breakfast?”
Her first thought was that she would need something far more comfortable then her current attire, but then anything was better then a dress. “I could make you something if you like.” She offered quietly after a moment. “I can show you some places later on where you can get something yourself.” She often made her own food anyway. She always arrived late into the evening or too early for anyone to be up for it to be otherwise.
“Besides food what would you be interested to see? You’ve been to the forges, obviously, so you know where those are.” She was trying to be a good hostess, which were shoes not often filled by her. Tyelpe was better the diplomacy then she was, he was a lord after all, and she had always been a child of the wood. Given her parents, it wasn’t surprising really. “We can go to what interests you more, and then go to whatever is left.”
“My lady! That would be exceedingly kind of you…” he pressed a hand to his chest in a bow that put him level with her eyes. “I’d be honored to breakfast under your roof, if it is no imposition.”
He searched her face as he unbent, sensing she was new to playing host, and nervous. He smiled, and gave her a quick wink.
“I’ve been suffering the hospitality of the dunendlings for months. I promise you, a slice of fresh bread and some tea would seem like a king’s banquet to me. You can do no wrong.”
Sunlight began to crest over the red sloping rooftops of the city, steam rising from the stone streets as the frost that had accumulated overnight melted off into the gutters. No one but bakers and students with dark circles under their eyes stirred in the market square.
“…Such peace…” Aulendil sighed, a white cloud rising into the air. “I know your cousin would do anything to make it last. Let us hope he succeeds.” Turning to his guide, he clicked his tongue; “…The library! That’s what I wish to see first and most of all. I hear its only rival lies in far Umbar. I’d love to compare them for myself. What do you say to that, Lady Mormiriel?”
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