- >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> -

Chapter Twenty-Four – A Needed Kindness

The looming lady held the petite princess in a stern stare.  The princess’ head knocked back over her shoulders with her mouth pulled slightly open.  The unknown lady’s head bent all the way forward, her flinty eyes aimed straight down. 

Rhiss covertly glanced over; curious if the princess could stifle this formidable adult’s impending admonishment as well as she had his. 

Celebrían’s cocked arms collapsed, her balled hands falling from her hips down to her sides, lapsing open.  The lady’s arms remained hitched up, fists firmly planted. 

He found this somewhat disappointing.  But then abruptly, the princess burst into a sunny smile – outwardly guileless and changing completely from apprehensive at the lady’s unmitigated stare to delighted with being the focus of her attention.  Spinning about-face, she hugged the elleth’s knees, then arched back to direct her happy expression up at the lady’s weakening frown.

“I’m so glad you’re home!” she cried with amazing sincerity – as if she had not just been caught wandering in someone’s private room without permission.  “We are having guests for tea tomorrow, and I must tell you all about Cliff!”

Informing Rhiss that the lady was a familiar of the Household and familiar with the little princess’ powers.  Then he realized that they both were speaking in Nandorin.  Well, they are Galadhrim, after all.  He felt thick-witted for having to remind himself that not all of Celebrían’s folk were High-elves.

Her amalgamated tribe had a long history with the Nandor in Beleriand then Lindon, and now they lived among true Lindi.  Lenwe’s eldest daughter was her own father’s grandmother.  She was cousin to the last Rîn of the Laegrim, and her parents had fostered Amdir.  A true-hearted scion of Denweg if ever there was, despite a Sindarin upbringing!  So, these two had reason to know his mother tongue.  It just never occurred to him before now that that they would use it casually.

He ventured to look up at the lady for her reaction to Celebrían’s ploy and found the elleth looking not unexpectedly unyielding.  Which set him to wondering exactly who she was and where it was she had returned from.

For she was well-dressed, though not in fancy clothes.  Rather in something more appropriate for a formal dinner than a festival.  She wore very little jewelry, and none of it the jackdaw trinkets most Eldarin ladies tended to favor.  The thick braid wound around her head was interwoven, not with beads or jewels, but with lengths of delicately knotted floss that matched her attire.  Her face glowed with fading starlight; in the same tell-tale way a glistening is left from melted snowflakes after coming inside a warm winter hut.  A light-weight mantel held by a traditional penannular brooch thrown back from her broad shoulders.  The elegant enameled pin looked to be a costly heirloom from another land and age.

He concluded that the lady had been away outside the palace, instead of dallying about the terraces with the partying crowd, and come directly into the family quarters.  Her personal fashion declared her likely sprung from a Nandorin nation.  And on second thought, Celebrían’s greeting conferred membership in the Lord and Lady’s family, not merely attachment.  But if only an auntie, he was sure the princess would not have reacted to her disapproval in the apprehensive way that she had.  So, who else’s ire would the heryn fear as much as she might her parents?  Only their surrogate, of course.  The hitherto unseen – by himself anyway – nanny.

“Why aren’t you in bed, lass?” she asked in the same deceptively calm voice his mother would have employed if she had caught him or one of his siblings flaunting her rules.  It was hard not to grin, but even more difficult not to snicker as he would at home were it his little sister being asked that question in that tone.

Celebrían bright smile turned into a disappointed pout.  It was hard to tell whether this response was because she did not get a hug in return for hers or that charm was not going to get her out of trouble.  Nevertheless in the next moment, her dissatisfaction disappeared and was replaced with bravado.  She released her nanny’s knees and stood up straight, her return gaze unflinching.

“I heard a noise and came to look,” she explained.  That was a much bolder excuse than his little sister would have dared.  Her nanny’s eyebrows rose in cynical doubt.  Even so, Celebrían’s truthful bluff was called by a tentative, incorporeal voice coming from beyond the open door into the hallway.

“Please you, kind mistress, I look and tell is a bringing for the new one come and tell in bed stay.”  Besides struggling with the woodland-tongue, the feminine voice spoke with the heavy accent typical of Westron speakers.  “But no stay... ”  Her plaintive words were not a report, but given in guilty confession for letting the princess get into mischief – when it was clear, to Rhiss at least, that there was no guilt to bear for being helpless to curb such a head-strong child.

Intrigued and unable to resist, he craned to see around the lady.  A small woman with untidy dark hair was hesitantly peeking into the chamber from behind the edge of the doorframe.  Their eyes met for an instant – before the woman nervously cast her eyes downward and bowed her head, fretful of showing even a suggestion of confrontation.  On only two occasions had he gone with his father and uncle when they met with Woodmen to trade.  Since coming to Eregion, he had encountered many more of the Aftercomers.  Here Men were as common as Dwarves.  A wide variety came to the city from all corners of Arda, and some traveled with their families.  Still, he had never seen such an intimidated female of humankind.  Her face bore a haunted look.  She would grovel ere there was any cause to beg for mercy.

Celebrían too leaned over to peer around her nanny.  “Hush, Sheenie!”  The sharp words caused the mortal servant to quickly duck back, again out of sight.  A soft whimper accentuated her cringing retreat.

Rhiss felt sorry for the poor woman.  Obviously, she had been abused in her former place and been taken in out of charity.  She might have recovered enough since then to watch over a sleeping child.  But certainly not a wakeful brat!  He was not the only ones who thought the little princess unnecessarily mean.

“You hush!” ordered Celebrían’s nanny, appalled.  Her arms came down, but her hands remained curled. 

The princess jerked back to stand up straight.  The face turned upward was once again anxious, the lower lip drawn in.

Twisting around to the open door, the elleth affected a comforting mien and gently said in Westron, “All is well, Thilig.  You done good.  Heryn done bad.”  Coming back around, her irate glare fell heavily upon Celebrían, and she said with severity in Nandorin, “Tauron’s Might, what’s got into you lately?”  The angry breath she then inhaled, she purposely held for a moment to cool her temper.  As she released it in a dissipating sigh, her head shook in bewildered disgust.  In a barely heard whisper, spoken almost to herself, she asked, “Where’s the sweet babe I helped raise in Lothlórien?”

The princess bowed her head.  Her hands contritely folded together in front of her.

“What?  Nothing to say for yourself?” asked her nanny in sarcastic rebuke to her silent discomfiture.

“I didn’t mean to be bad, Nîni,” Celebrían explained in a weak voice.  “I just wanted to be sure Cliff had gotten my invitation to tea.  But, he wasn’t here... ”

“You could’ve waited ‘til morn, and you’re of an age to know you should’ve.”

“I‘m sorry, Nîni.”

“I can only imagine.”  She crossed her arms under her bosom; hands cupped around her bent elbows, the fingers of one hand drumming menacingly.  “And ‘tis Thilig’s feelings you’ve hurt, not mine.”

“I’m sorry, Sheenie.”  She spoke up so the woman would hear her.

“And…?” her nanny prompted.

“I’m sorry, Nítmilrû,” she almost shouted.  Rhiss guessed that was another of her watchers who preferred not to make an appearance.  A bodyguard?  Very likely both servants were undeservedly troubled by her antics on more than this one occasion, hence their prudent distance.

“And…?” pressed her nanny.  Celebrían sighed, then turned to face himself.  She raised her eyes and looked straight at him, where she had not even raised her head for her other apologies.  Her earlier bravado was back.

“I’m sorry, whoever-you-are.”  Although noticeably shorter than he, just by her countenance, she made him feel that she was the taller.

“Tsk! Aren’t we high and mighty!”  Her nanny switched to Sindarin, saying, “Try again.”  A clear hint for the princess to change languages.

It struck him then that perhaps, as distracted as they were, neither elleth had seen him for a Silvan.  As interesting as it was to suddenly be Eldarin, he had no intention of remaining so.  However, he now wondered whether it was their custom to speak in Nandorin or that they had chosen to speak it for privacy.  That thought made him hesitate correcting their misperception, figuring that neither might like his knowing what all had actually been said about the Heryn’s bad behaviour.

“I am sorry,” Celebrían said in Sindarin, although her words were attended by hardly measurable humility.  “I should not have disturbed your work.  Please excuse my inconsiderate intrusion.”

“Much better,” approved her nanny.

He gave a slight bow in acknowledgement of the apology.  The princess took that as a sign that she no longer had to act as if she had committed any transgression at all, and she became disarmingly affable.

“What is your name?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

“Rhiss, my lady.”  He was finding her swift transitions from one mood to another disorienting.  Something he suspected as intentional on her part, although perhaps only instinctual and without forethought.

“I am Celebrían, the daughter of this House.  This is my nîni, Glamien.”  There was reasonable pride in her self-introduction, but possessiveness was even more present in her referential gesture, a stylish backward wave of the hand he reckoned mocked another’s aristocratic style.  He was supposed to be impressed.  It was not every family that had a parental assistant to take constant care of the children instead of superfluous kin just keeping an eye on them.

He bowed to Nîni Glamien and was surprised to receive a sociable nod in return, one devoid of the usual aloofness of high-ranking servants and minor nobility.

“But why do you linger here, Rhiss?” the princess prettily asked.  A blush threatened to bloom upon his cheeks.  Bashfulness caused not only by her personable query but because he had been nosing around in a guest’s room just as she had wrongly meant to do.  However, he could put on a bold face too.

“I bear a message from the Lady Galadriel to Cogndîr Hrassa and await his return,” he smoothly replied.

“Ooh, what is it?” Celebrían demanded, eager to know.

“None of your business, hên,” reprimanded Glamien.  “And that was it: the last straw.  Get to bed.”

The princess fluttered away without a further word or a backward glance.  Nothing in her demeanor indicated she cared about having been chastised.  Neither did it appear she felt remorse.  Naught but a soft rush of air, she raced lightly down the hall – merrily calling for Sheenie to come with her, the way any playful child would urge a pet to hurry along beside.

Her otherwise silent exit astonished Rhiss.  So that’s how she snuck up on me!  The Heryn could tread as lightly at any wood-elf!

Glamien too watched her go.  Again, she shook her head; this time appearing worried rather than bewildered.  Coming back to Rhiss, she looked him over with a scrutinizing eye.

“There’s ne’er no telling...”  She had gone back to using Nandorin, now speaking it as only a Silvan forest-dweller would.  “... how being far away in a strange place’ll affect a young’un.  How’re you doing, lad?  Miss your old home much?”

“Aplenty, Nîni,” he automatically replied in like.  The revelation of yet another Silvan invested in Nos Galadhad felt comforting this time rather than dumbfounding.  He was appreciative of the genuine sympathy being offered him.  “I sorely miss it.  Yet all the same, I’m glad t’be here.”

“You seek a different path than through the Wood?”

“Yea, for awhile.  ‘Til my family can afford me again.  Mayhap by then, I‘ll know if I’d rather live amongst stones or amidst trees.”

“Why, both might be a fit place for you.  For the stars shine o’er it all.  ‘Tis a reward of service to see far away places and meet all manner of folk.  Myself I’ve also lived beside great waters as well as great plains.”

“You’ve lived by the Sea?”  The shores of the Belegaer were as far and legendary place as he never thought to see.

“The Sea of Rhún.  Which ‘tis naught but a puddle to the breadth of the Great Sea, so they tell me.  Truth, I’m looking forward to when the Household goes a’visiting Edhellond.  This though be the first time I’ve crossed the Mountains, as I’m sure ‘tis for you.”

His head bobbed in enthusiastic affirmation, and he drew an excited breath at the thought of a visit to the fabled harbour.  If I impress him, the Cogndîr might choose to take me along!

“D’you know what’s just below here?” she asked, clearly an intention in mind.

“A dining room?” he scarcely recollected.  The lower level had not been as interesting a part of his training tour as had been the upper.

“With a catering station just down the corridor.”    

His always-hungry stomach perked up, anticipating a task that might present the opportunity to grab a snack.

“Most days, I’m in there to help make up a noon meal.  When’ere you pine, don’t you hold off from coming in t’see me then.  I’ve a good remedy for homesickness.”  She smiled knowingly.  “Yrmas, just like my Nana made.”

“Oh, Nîni Glamien!”  Runnybread!  A woodland family’s everyday lembas!  His mouth watered at the thought of a stack of hot and fluffy golden rounds – sopping with syrup!  Real pancakes, made the right way, to be eaten right away, and not the soggy parchment served in the dining hall they so pretentiously called pancakes.  “Many thanks!  Be sure I’ll be by!”

“Soon then, eh?”  She smiled and chucked him under the chin.  Then, her smile turned rueful.  “So, the Blight struck your groves?”

“Yea, with great ruin.  But, they’re on the mend.”  He tried to stay cheerful, despite recalling the horror of the forest dying all around.  There had been no escape to other parts.  The pestilence moved with the people, and travel had to stop lest the entire Wood be infected and fail.  Things could have turned out so much worse than they had.  Any one of his family might have died of starvation.  Several of his friends’ families had suffered that misfortune.  For at the last, parents and elders gave their meager rations to the children.  “The Blessing Cure came late to us, but thankfully not too late.”

Far wiser than he did say the disease that had killed great swaths of trees in Rhovanion was not natural, and that was why only the Besain could halt its spread.  Else, the foresters could have thwarted it, just as they had many other maladies.  As it was, the three great elven-queens had worked together for an antidote.  When found, they had traveled tirelessly throughout their realms, and beyond borders, dispensing the remedy wherever it was needed.

“And your folk still sent you away?”  Glamien’s question, sounding as it did like an accusation against his parents’ care, jarred his pride.

“Beg pardon, Nîni, no one sent me away.  My parents allowed me my want.”

Milphillim, his people’s wonderful Lady, had happen to stop to rest in his village.  At the end of her short stay, she had asked on behalf of her lord husband’s kin if any of those who must needs find another home whilst the forest recovered would volunteer for service in Eregion.  Her request awoke a desire in Rhiss’ heart for foreign adventure.  Against all common sense and fear, he had stepped forward: the solitary responder to her request.  She had deemed him much too young and dismissed him back into the custody of his parents.  But, he had begged until ordered to be silence.  His Grandfather was the one who finally persuaded Milphillim to let him come to Ost-in-Edhil.  Any of the refugee settlements was just as distant and just as dangerous for a young fool, Grandfather had argued.  But Rhiss was a smart young fool in need of strong lessons, and who – in more ways than one – deserved the challenge he craved.  And a challenge was exactly what this job was turning out to be.

“Can’t say I wholly approve of that either.”  Glamien obviously did not approve one bit.  Not many adults did.  The Lord Amdir certainly had not.

Amdir had not traveled at his lady’s side whilst she was on her mission, and Rhiss sometimes wondered what might have happened differently, if the Lord and not the Lady had been there that fateful day.  Would the Lord have been swayed?  Would Amdir have stirred him as deeply?  Milphillim had changed him in a way he could feel but could not understand.  Perhaps he was as yet too young to choose wisely for himself...

“So, what can you tell me ‘bout this Hrassa fellow?  I’ve ne’er met him, only seen him in the market.”

“I’ve not met him myself.  He’s the Lord Celeborn’s bowman from long ago, and he went away – afore the Galadhrim settled the Naith – not coming back as he should’ve.”  He refrained from mentioning the part about how the cogndîr had perhaps died and then come back to life.  Ellith disliked hearing eerie things of that sort.

“So Lumdis did say.  More that the fellow had deserted the Lord and Lady.  Appears though they think not.  Seeing as he’s not still arrested.”  She cast her eyes about the room.  “Lady Elrovail looks to have decided he’ll not be enjoying his freedom.”

Rhiss nodded sagely, so at ease with Glamien that it did not feel presumptuous of him to commend her assessment.

“Are the hiril’s rooms where you think you might find him then?” she suggested.

“Yea, Nîni.  I was just thinking so, for the door-warden said she tends to a hurt.”

“Been hearing all ‘bout that, too.  Not you?  Well, the Lady slapped him hard for his disrespect.  Deservedly so.  He’s plain lucky, if you ask me.  Considering what the Lord would’ve done if he’d deemed him guilty of worse.”

Rhiss nodded, again she had the right of it.  As much as he liked Celeborn, any Aran’s bad side was not where one should ever long linger – particularly after doing wrong.

“D’you know the way to the hiril’s door?”

He confidently nodded, and Glamien chuckled.

“Of course you do.  Lad or no, you’re an ellon.  Off you go then afore she gets past the healing and onto the comforting.”  She moved out of his way and waved him on.  “And don’t be a’scared of her.  She enjoys making one blush, which is as far as she’ll go with one as young as you.”

He gave her a quick smile meant to assure her of his confidence in his own safety, before settling back into the proper demeanor for a page.

Turning left out of the chamber door, he strode purposefully down the hallway, heartened by her charity.  Celebrían’s nanny was indeed, as Thilig had said, a kind mistress.

Behind him, he heard the door firmly closed and Glamien walking away in the opposite direction.  Although, not nearly as quietly as the little princess.  But, I can be.

It certainly would be good for himself, as much as for the Heryn, to practice whenever possible.  He had promised his father to keep up his few skills and was not making a good enough effort at it.  It also riled him a bit that Celebrían had come up on him unawares.  Very unbecoming it was too.  He moved into the shadows that lapped at the edge of the spaced pools of dim lamplight and went ‘quiet’, endeavoring to become unnoticeable.  Something not so easy to do on this cursed carpet.  The thick wool carpeting was one luxury which, most of the time, was nothing but annoying for a forest-dweller.  Especially that surprising first time.  His fellow pages had laughed at his frightened reaction until they wept.  Annoyance aside, if he accidentally touched anything, he would instantly give himself away.  Therefore, he deliberately tapped a metal urn in passing.  And as expected, a crackling spark shocked his fingers and left him flapping them from the sting.  But, stepping lightly from now on would help prevent building up another charge.

He stretched out his senses, seeking to find his limits.  The corridor ahead felt empty.  As did the rooms ranged along it.  There were no sounds of other living things.  Not mouse or cricket.  Everyone was probably gone, servants included.  He would have been downstairs too, if he had had any seniority to get out of duty this night.  Nevertheless, as usual, hardship was turning out fortuitous in some way.  He suppressed a smile that would let show a revealing glimmer in the dark.

The lead-page of his group, a commoner like himself, had boasted of how he and other senior lads were going to sneak into the great hall to dance with the noble-born maidens.  There was even a bet on about who would steal a kiss from a certain lord’s comely daughter.  Fact was the senior pages were much older than Rhiss and overly preoccupied with their adolescent aims.  When his time came to start pursuing the lasses, he would, he assured himself, never act as stupidly as they.  As if getting a kiss were a daring thing to do.  In his experience, all one ever really had to do was ask and usually received.

Just wait until they hear he has been in the Meadow Room and the family quarters both because they were at play and left the work to him.  And that he has made acquaintance with the princess.  And been personally instructed by the Lord Celeborn!  When they gaped with envy, then with an innocent air he would mention having visited Lady Elrovail’s private chamber.  For he did not doubt that to deliver his message in person as required, the bowman would not be coming to the door to hear it.

By taking the first cross-hall instead of the second, he emerged into the other long hallway well before the Lord Celebrimbor’s apartment.  As he passed that door, there was a whiff of an odd scent in air – odd because it was out-of-place.  However since neither smoke nor fire, his self-congratulatory thoughts were not disrupted.  With no need to sound an alarm, he simply stayed on task, not breaking his noiseless progress.  His mind was turned intently towards tomorrow.  What might yet happen in the hiril’s rooms did not worry him.  Tomorrow he would top all brags and boasts, bring the best of news to Dûrcef , and later kind Glamien would stuff him with buttered yrmas.  Yrmas! Yrmas! Yum!  He hoped for his first taste of the touted mallorn syrup of Lothlórien.

But just a short distance further down the hall from the lord’s door, he abruptly halted and returned immediately to the present when behind him there sounded a muffled but heavy thump from inside the master smith’s quarters.

TBC

- >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> - >> -

Author’s Notes:  

All elvish is in Sindarin unless otherwise indicated and underlined means I put it together myself – corrections and comments are welcome!

cogndîr – bowman Nandorin

heryn – lady or princess

hiril – lady or dame

hên – child

nîni - nanny a Sindarin form of nyéne ‘she-goat’ in Quenya  (the English word ‘nanny’ was derived from ‘nanny goat’)

ellon/elleth – elf male/female

ellyn/ellith – elves male/female

yrmas – runnybread (yr- to run, bass bread) A batter-based leavened pancake, which would be mixed just before cooking, tender and airy and easily soak up syrup and melted butter.  It would have a shorter shelf-life (and plate-life around someone like Rhiss or me) than the more wafer-like lembas.

Lenwe (Denweg) – leader of the people who left the Great Journey and stayed on the eastern side of the White Mountains.  Denweg is his Nandorin name, much like Elu is Elwe’s Sindarin name.  His people called themselves the Lindi (the Teleri were originally called the Lindar).  Denethor, the king of the Laegrim (Laiquendi), was Lenwe’s son, and in my tales, a great-grandfather of Amdir (Malgalad), the Lord of Lórinand, who will become his realm’s first official King.

Westron – the language that became the Common Speech of the Third Age

Besain – the Lady Breadgivers - the chief elven-women who are charged with the keeping and gifting of lembas

Miphillim – is an OC wife for Amdir, she was introduced in another fanfic Farrod a Rodwen in.

Dûrcef – is the first friend Rhiss made in Ost-in-Edhil and mentioned last chapter