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.

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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?

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Part 6

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Beta: Red Lasbelin