The Secret Tongue of the Dwarves

The tinkle of small fragments of glass seeking the flagged hallway echoed in the silence before Elladan expressed himself forcefully in guttural and rolling Khuzdul.

‘Naneth will not be pleased,’ Elrohir observed.  ‘She was quite fond of those glasses – I believe Daernaneth’s Adar gave them to her.’

‘Make me feel better about it, why not?’ Elladan exclaimed bitterly.

‘We had best clear away the shards before your son comes and steps on them.’ Legolas turned away from Elladan with a slightly puzzled expression on his face.  ‘I am sure you will be able to make it up to Lady Celebrían – but if Ellanthir gets glass embedded in his foot, Miriwen will make you very sorry.’

The fragments, the three elves discovered, had managed to spread themselves liberally across the hall – and, no matter how many they picked up, there still seemed to be more.  Elladan muttered another of his favourite phrases as a tiny sliver of glass sliced his finger and added a sprinkling of blood to his favourite blue tunic.

‘It is no good,’ his brother decided.  ‘I will get Mothwen to send someone to clear the rest – you two go into the library, so you do not have to listen to her reproaches.  I will join you shortly.’

‘I have never quite understood how females manage to tidy up mess so effectively,’ Legolas admitted as he sprawled on the sofa.  ‘I try, if Elerrina leaves me in charge – but it never looks the same.’

‘They like doing it really,’ Elladan said absently.  ‘It makes them feel needed.’

‘Miriwen would make you pay for that comment, too.’

They looked up as Elrohir pushed the door open with his shoulder and entered.  ‘We have been relegated to the elflings’ glasses,’ he grinned.  ‘But fortunately, we are still permitted the wine.’

Legolas sipped appreciatively, before placing his glass carefully in the middle of one of the small tables that were scattered round the room.  ‘I have been meaning to ask you, Elladan,’ he remarked.  ‘Why do you lapse into odd bursts of Khuzdul when you are under stress?  It seems an odd thing to do.’

His friend raised his eyebrows.  ‘It is such a good language for conveying fury and frustration,’ he said, before rolling one of his favourite phrases over his tongue.  ‘Does it not just say it all?’

After a brief hesitation, Legolas agreed.  ‘It does, indeed, my friend,’ he said, managing to keep his voice steady.

Elrohir frowned at him.

‘I like this one, too.’  Elladan closed his eyes and gave voice to another expression full of throat-clearing consonants.   ‘It sounds delightfully vindictive.’

Legolas’s shoulders shook slightly.

Elrohir looked from his friend to his brother. 

‘Where did you learn to say that?’ Legolas asked.  ‘The dwarves are not generally very inclined to teach outsiders any of their language.’

Elladan frowned.  ‘It was some while ago,’ he said.  ‘We encountered dwarves on the Great West Road when we were journeying for Adar – to Mithlond, I believe.  We travelled together for a while.’  He grinned.  ‘I think they found our presence rather an irritation, actually.’

‘I suspect they did,’ Legolas agreed.

‘We taught them a few phrases of Sindarin,’ Elrohir recalled.  ‘I wondered for a while whether they were surprised by the reaction they got when they tried to use them.’  He shrugged. ‘It seemed funny at the time,’ he added.  ‘We were very young and foolish.’

‘Among dwarves who travel,’ Legolas observed carefully, ‘there are usually one or two with a reasonable grasp of Sindarin.  They tend not to speak it – they prefer it if the elves they meet think them ignorant.  They find they learn a lot that way.’

A faint flush of colour stained Elrohir’s face.  ‘You mean . . . ?’ he asked.

‘Oh yes,’ Legolas nodded.  ‘I think I can assure you that they knew what you were doing.’  He grinned wickedly.  ‘Although you, it seems, did not see through their – er – willingness to teach you some words of the secret tongue.’

Elladan closed his eyes.  ‘But Gimli taught you?’ he said in a rather hollow voice.

‘He taught me to recognise various insults,’ Legolas corrected him.  ‘He did not want me nodding agreeably to smiling dwarves who were making abusive comments about me and my race.’ He paused to control himself. ‘And I have spent enough time among dwarves to learn more than they expected.’  He hesitated.  ‘You really do not want your offspring even thinking about using some of those phrases, Elladan,’ he said. 

 ‘What do they mean?’ Elrohir asked hollowly.

Leaning forward and dropping his voice to a murmur, Legolas illuminated them.  The twins paled.

‘If you ever, and I mean ever, tell anyone, Legolas, that I have spent the last two thousand years informing everyone that I want to be a dwarf-maiden’s lapdog I will never forgive you!’ Elladan spoke from the heart.

Legolas grinned.  ‘I will consider your request, my friend,’ he said.  ‘Although, rest assured that it is an image that will live in my mind for ever!’

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Betrayal

Elladan brooded over the rim of his glass.

‘What is the problem, my brother?’ Elrohir asked.  ‘You have refrained from comment in the last hour.  It is most unlike you.’

His brother opened his mouth, then closed it again, moving his eyes sideways to stare at Legolas before moving them back to rest on his twin.

‘I cannot read your mind,’ Legolas said pleasantly.  ‘You will have to speak.’

Elladan reached out for the decanter and topped up his glass carefully.  ‘Who knew?’

‘Who knew what?’

‘Do not act as if you are dense, my brother,’ Elladan snapped.  ‘Who knew that we were making fools of ourselves each time we let loose with a mouthful of Khuzdul?’

Elrohir exchanged a wary glance with Legolas.  ‘Why should anyone have known?’ he asked carefully.  ‘We did not exactly lapse into the secret tongue in company.  The words we used – that we thought we were using were not ones to be shared.’

‘That does not mean we were not overheard,’ Elladan said scornfully.  ‘It is about as easy to keep a secret among elves as for a leaf to keep its movements quiet from the rest of the forest.’

‘The secret language was called a secret language for a reason,’ Legolas offered.  ‘It was – well – secret.  Why would any have known the true meaning of anything you said?  You never exactly went round shouting insults at any dwarves you met, did you?’  He took a mouthful of wine.  ‘So I doubt that any of Aulë’s people knew of the trick that had been played on you – at least, not once the dwarves who fooled you passed beyond the world.’

‘May their beards have been plucked out by vultures,’ Elladan said spitefully.

‘Hair by hair,’ Elrohir agreed, raising his glass to toast the sentiment.

Legolas contemplated the twins.  ‘I was under the impression,’ he said carefully, ‘that you had sent those dwarves into the world ready to suggest to any elves they met that their beards could be used for scrubbing pots.  Amongst other things.’

A ghost of a grin twitched the corners of Elladan’s mouth.  ‘True,’ he acknowledged.

‘We deserved to have the tables turned on us, my brother,’ Elrohir conceded.

‘But,’ Elladan returned doggedly to his original point, ‘I cannot believe that we have been expressing our frustrations in those – offensive phrases over all this time without somebody realising.’

‘Perhaps we should have given in to Adar’s suggestion that we learn Khuzdul,’ Elrohir said thoughtfully.  ‘We would have been harder to deceive.’

‘Adar speaks Khuzdul,’ Elladan remarked.  ‘He must have known that we were looking like idiots.’ 

‘He knows the formal phrases,’ Elrohir said mildly.  ‘Greetings and compliments – I do not know if he can hold extended conversations in it.’  He stretched.  ‘Glorfindel speaks a little, I think.  But, if I had to think of the elf who was best able to converse with dwarves in their own tongue, it would be Naneth.’

‘Naneth,’ Elladan mused.  The shadows danced as the wood fire crackled and cast its warm light over the shelves of books.  ‘No,’ he decided.  ‘She would not play games with us.’

Legolas sipped his wine.  This, he reflected, was definitely an instance when keeping his opinion to himself could only be a sign of wisdom.  In fact, he was rather beginning to regret that he had ever mentioned the matter in the first place.  After all, what did it matter if the twins declared to the world that they wished to lick the dwarf king’s armpits!  It was not as if more than a handful of those present in the Blessed Realm could understand their words.  And most of them were members of the twins’ family and unlikely to use that knowledge to embarrass them.

‘This,’ said Elrohir, ‘is something best forgotten.  As completely as possible, as soon as possible.  We will wipe the words from our memories, my twin.  I do not care if anyone has heard us use them – just as long as no-one ever hears them again.’

‘Agreed,’ Elladan nodded.  The three friends lapsed into silence again.  ‘It is a pity, though,’ he added regretfully.  ‘It is such a good language for expressing your frustration – even if the words do not mean what you think.’

‘You could just acquire some different expressions,’ Legolas suggested.  ‘I know a dwarf drinking song or two that are more satisfying than a morning on the training fields when it comes to relieving stress.’

‘You do not think for a minute that we are about to trust anyone to teach us to use words we do not understand,’ Elrohir objected.  ‘We have been fooled once!’

‘But this is me,’ Legolas said, wounded.  ‘I am your friend.  And Gimli was as my brother.  He would never have taught me to sing anything that would be insulting to me as an elf, now would he?’

‘Possibly not,’ Elladan conceded.

‘And someone will notice,’ Elrohir decided, ‘if we change our habits completely.  Perhaps we should trust the Wood Elf.  Let him teach us something we can say without blushing.  On the clear understanding that any deception will bring about his demise – in the most painful and humiliating way we can imagine.’

Legolas grinned.  ‘That sound reasonable enough,’ he said.