Chapter 17 - “Beauties and Nincompoops”

The following day Penny was unsure if she should say anything to Erestor or not in her lesson. She felt very bad that she had been quite so arsey with him, and very embarrassed that she had not handled things better and saved him finding out what was going on.

The lesson was a little longer that day since Erestor was finally allowing her to learn to use a quill. It was hard going and she got cramp in her hand fairly quickly because of the angle she had to hold the nib against the page to get any kind of decent, controllable mark with the ink. Even so, given that she already knew how to write, it was not as difficult as it might have been. Her efforts were wobbly but nearly legible.

Erestor seemed pleased enough with her efforts. However, Penny got the impression that he was thinking she’d done passably well ‘for a mortal’ and that he would have expected far better from an elf.

She now had the alphabet and was moving on to the first lesson in her book: a continuation of what Erestor had already taught her in that it introduced new vocabulary via ‘this is’ and ‘what is this?’.

Penny discovered that Erestor was an excellent artist. He quickly produced little line drawings on the blackboard to represent each word in the chapter. Penny grinned. It made Erestor seem softer somehow. Not that he was that stiff and cold with her but a little austere perhaps. He clearly enjoyed it though and looked quite smug when Penny showed she had immediately understood what he had drawn.

When the lesson had finished he presented her with a quill, a pot of ink, and some pieces of paper: thick, rough and a pale brown colour. Looking through the three sheets she saw that he had written each letter of the alphabet down the left hand sides with an inch and a half gap or more between each one. He indicated he wanted them filled out with her practising each letter in the gaps he had left.

She gasped. “All this by tomorrow?”

Erestor’s brow furrowed.

She took the chalk, drew a sun on the board and pointed to the floor.

“Today.”

At first he did not understand what she had drawn. When she added a tree, a cloud and then pointed upwards making a huge circle with her hand Erestor finally nodded, but cautiously. She then drew a moon, another sun and then a line between the two. She circled the first sun and the moon.

“Today,” she said pointing at the floor again.

Then she indicated the second sun. “Tomorrow,” and she made a forward arcing motion with her hand as if to indicate ‘after’.

Erestor understood. He said the Sindarin for ‘today’ and ‘tomorrow’ pointing to her very basic drawings as he did so. For good measure he gestured his thumb backwards over his shoulder and said ‘yesterday’.

Penny nodded and repeated the words. She realised she would not remember everything everyone told her but even if she only remembered some of it that would be better than nothing. She then said the Sindarin for ‘tomorrow’ in a questioning tone and indicated the pieces of paper.

He took one page from her and held it up, tracing his finger down the entire page as he said, “Tomorrow. All this for tomorrow’s lesson, Pen- ii.”

She nodded. Not so bad. Good. She smiled. And Erestor returned her smile, seeing she had understood him.

As she turned the door handle and opened the door, clutching her book, paper, quill and stoppered pot of ink she turned.

“Erestor?”

He looked up, an eyebrow raised, as he went through a pile of paperwork on one side of the room.

“About yesterday, Erestor. Goheno nin.” She tried to remember the word he had just told her for ‘yesterday’ and then said it.

He suddenly looked a little pink and unable to look her in the eye. He muttered something at her and nodded. Penny was fairly sure she’d heard him say ‘goheno nin’ back to her. Poor bugger. She nodded, smiled and left the room.

“Ah! Pen-ii!”

She turned to see Gandalf bearing down on her, beaming at her. “Aiya, Mithrandir.”

His beam widened. He turned to introduce her to a male elf walking beside him. The elf bowed. Penny recognised him. She had seen him at the stables when Halbarad had shown her around.

“You are to start learning to ride, Pen-ii.”

Horror gripped her. Apart from the fact that she didn’t WANT to learn to ride, she was fairly certain that the belt contraption would NOT stand up to the jiggling and bouncing involved in such an activity.

“Err... Mithrandir... Not sure this is such a good idea. Do I have to? Really, I could... I could learn about horses without getting on one, couldn’t I? It was bad enough with Halbarad but I didn’t really have a choice. Being on one all by myself and in charge of it... I couldn’t. I’ll fall off. I’ll break my neck. It’ll bite me. Or something.”

Gandalf laughed. “The elves know horses well and would not let anything happen to you. But if you are unsure I will ask that you work at the stables for a little while to get used to the animals before you learn to ride. How would that be?”

She nodded, grateful to have an excuse to wait for a week before beginning.

“Very well. Every day, once you have finished with Erestor, you are to make your way to the stables. They will teach you. Then after lunch today you are to learn your first skill: weaving. Mireth will show you where.”

Penny nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed by all this. It WAS like being back at school. The elf was looking at her, clearly waiting for her to follow him. She waved her book and paper at them.

“I need to take these to my room first.”

“Very good. Then Lindir will meet you at the stables then.”

Penny nodded but did not move. Lindir had turned to leave, nodding his head slightly to Penny before he did so. Gandalf looked at Penny curiously.

“You have heard of him?”

“I think so. But I can’t remember where.” Gandalf nodded, his eyes sparkling as he smiled. “I think he was just an elf of Imladris that the kuduk met.”

“Ah. So a minor figure in your stories.”

“Well, yes. But a name I know nonetheless.”

She shook her head. Still felt odd all of this. She turned to go.

“Oh, Pen-ii?”

She turned back.

“Lord Elrond wanted me to tell you if there was anything in particular you wanted to learn, just to ask. You are free to wander where you wish, to look at what you wish and study those at work round Imladris. Everyone here knows of you and that you may well be studying various skills here so you will made welcome wherever you find yourself.”

She smiled. “Tell him ‘le hannon’. I am very grateful.”

Once she was at the stables she found there was little for her to do at first. Lindir simply did what he needed to anyway while she watched. It mainly involved brushing down the horses, mucking out, giving fresh water, and leading various horses out to the paddocks just outside the walls or bringing others in.

Lindir was very kind with her, smiling often, and pointing out the names of things and getting her to repeat them. Her ignorance of Sindarin clearly went ahead of her.

He showed her how to brush down a horse and got her to try on a chestnut mare.

She was not convinced she was doing it correctly at first and was quite nervous about even touching a horse.

Lindir kept her working on the horse’s flank and all the while he was murmuring in the horse’s ear, reassuring her.

‘That’s right, Pen. Freak out the horse, why don’t you?’ she thought

He watched her and nodded, smiling so she was obviously doing it right. She ended up brushing the entire animal. She was sweating slightly, too, at the end of it. God, she was unfit but this kind of stuff did not feel like exercise and was definitely more interesting than aerobics or jogging, that was for bloody sure.

He showed her the tack room. Even though the elves did not use saddles or bridles they kept a few for guests to use. Added to which there were those of the guests’ own horses to be housed. Penny marvelled at them since many were covered with decorations and designs, showing some stunning craftsmanship.

She scanned them all vaguely wondering which one was Boromir’s for no particular reason. She was surprised not to see any indication of Gondor that she could tell on any of the saddles. All seemed to be styled similarly and though she could not know if the Gondorian style of decoration was different from that of the elves she imagined it would be.

That was a point. Boromir was mainly dressed in new tunics whenever she saw him. Or what looked like new tunics, and of the same style as Elrond, Erestor or Glorfindel might wear. Perhaps there was no difference, after all, between Gondorian and elvish styles.

Lindir was watching her staring at the saddles, lost in her own thoughts and he called her name gently.

She turned with a start and smiled.

“Which of these is Boromir’s?”

She asked it as inconsequentially as she could. An innocent enough question, surely. Lindir looked utterly baffled by it though.

She pointed at the saddles. “These? Boromir?”

Lindir just shook his head. His negative response was clear enough. Boromir’s saddle wasn’t there. Penny was confused.

A bell rang. Lunch. Lindir said something and beckoned to her. He was going to walk her to the halls it would seem.

Penny couldn’t help but smile to herself. A beautiful, dark-haired male walking her to lunch. She had to suppress what she suspected would have been an obvious ‘shit-eating grin’ at the thought. Then she remembered when Glorfindel had kissed her hand. ‘Stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it, Mary-Sue!’ She giggled.

Lindir’s not so subtle glance in her direction as she tried to smother her laughter brought her back to earth, though. She was an ignorant, foreign mortal. More to the point she was a blooming bizarre, ignorant, foreign mortal to them. Just to rub salt into the wound she was fairly sure she was generally considered a none-too attractive, bizarre, ignorant, foreign mortal. Especially when compared to any elleth.

So much for all those ‘here let me just leap into bed with you, Oh Gorgeous Elf-hunk of My Dreams’ fics, then! If she did not think it would earn her another ‘are you mad?’ glance from Lindir she would have laughed hollowly. Very hollowly indeed.

Lunch was soup. Which was safe enough.

Lindir led her to join him and the elves he knew well so she was on the other side of the room from the hobbits and Gandalf for once but Pippin and Merry saw her and waved. She smiled as they said something to Frodo who then turned and grinned at her, raising his hand. Lindir was gently saying ‘sit’ and she did.

Thus far at mealtimes, or indeed at any other time when she had encountered more than one male elf at a time, she had always had the ‘Balancing Out’ effect: either men, hobbits or dwarves cancelling out the ‘insansely beautiful’ factor or else elleths, while just as stunning, at least cancelling out the ‘gorgeous male’ factor. So to find herself suddenly surrounded entirely by male elves as she sat and took stock of those around her was just a little difficult to cope with.

In fact it was utterly overwhelming and she found it hard to know where to look.

To one side, a few elves down from them, she recognised the elf she and Halbarad had met outside Imladris. He caught her eye and smiled. She nodded. Celebdor was opposite her, which at least was a familiar face. He grinned and served her some soup and cut her some bread. On the other side of her she could see the three Mirkwood elves. Legolas was on Celebdor’s side of the table and he, and the others, murmured a greeting to her. She was fairly impressed they remembered her name, too, since she had only met them the once. She smiled and returned their ‘aiya’ as politely as she could.

Hoo boy.

She was not sure she would ever get used to how amazingly beautiful elves were. It was not like a ‘drool dribbling out of the side of your mouth as your chin hits the floor’ kind of beautiful. Well, okay, it was, but it was not JUST that nor was that the first thing that struck you. There was a LOT more to it than that.

It was the beauty of a bright summer’s day and birdsong and a child’s laugh all rolled into one. It was the best moment you had ever had. It was the light filtering through a leaf or the glimmer of a diamond in candlelight. It was the smell of a rose or the sea or fresh cut grass in springtime. It was... it was... well, it was like nothing on earth.

Penny concentrated very hard on her soup and left as soon as she could with a murmured ‘le hannon’ to Lindir for looking after her so well.

She hoped she wouldn’t have to experience THAT too often, or at least that she would eventually get used to it. Though... she couldn’t imagine you ever would get used to it. She wondered if Aragorn had got used to it, given he had more or less grown up with it. She decided to ask him when he came back. If he would not find it a rude question. Given he was betrothed to an elf it might be...

That was a point. How come she had not been introduced to Arwen yet? She had seen her around. Now she really did put the others to shame. Knocked all those beautiful elves into a cocked hat. Which really was saying something. And she had chosen a mortal. Wow.

Penny was wandering out of the door and about to start up the steps, mulling over how attractive or not Aragorn was and what Arwen might see in him, when she felt a hand on her arm and someone say her name. She turned.

“Mireth! Aiya!”

The elleth beamed. Mireth was on her way in to the hall to eat so she spoke, with hand gestures, and Penny understood that they would meet in the garden by the fountain.

Presumably it would then be weaving time. Fun, fun, fun!

‘No,’ Penny thought to herself as she climbed the steps, ‘I will not show my ignorance. Besides, they are looking after me: feeding me and clothing me. The least I can do is help out a bit and make myself useful. If I can learn a skill or two I won’t feel quite so much like a spare part who’s under everyone’s feet all the bloody time.’ Even if weaving did sound as dull as ditchwater.

As she turned down a corridor there was the sound of running from behind her. Running and giggling.

Two small figures rushed past her. There was a shout of “Raz! Kali! Ai, Elbereth!”

Penny grinned and turned to see Frodo shaking his head in exasperation but with a smile on his face. Sam was beside him clearly trying not to laugh. The two saw her, came to join her and the three then walked to the gardens together. Penny wondered how long it would take for Gandalf to turn up.

Frodo was talking. He was clearly saying something about Sam because he was gesturing to him and Sam was beaming, and something else about ‘garden’. Was he telling her Sam was a gardener? Was Sam going to help out in the garden?

Frodo could see she hadn’t understood.

“With you. And Mireth. And Celebdor. In the garden. Poor Ban just can’t sit still knowing there is work to be done out there and he and Celebdor are already as thick as thieves and swopping tricks.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, Mister Maura.”

“I would. You two barely stopped talking all the way through supper last night. And afterwards. I dread to think what you’ll be like once you start working together.”

Frodo’s smile was affectionate, though. Sam was clearly delighted at the idea of getting his hands stuck in soil again.

“Aiya, Pen-ii.” /I am sure you already know Ban is quite the gardener, do you not/

Penny grinned. Yup. As sure as eggs is eggs: she was talking to the hobbits and now Gandalf had suddenly appeared.

“Yes, Mithrandir. He will become famous for it.” She stopped, suddenly, realising what she had said.

/Careful, Pen-ii. No harm done, but you need to be more cautious nonetheless. Even with me./ Gandalf said silently to her.

She nodded and felt tears prick her eyes suddenly. “It’s just... Well, if truth be told, Gandalf, it’s because it’s you. I don’t think I would say such a thing to anyone except you.”

And it was true. He was the only one who could truly communicate with her, as well as the fact that he was... well... he was GANDALF, for goodness sake!

Gandalf nodded. /I understand Pen-ii. I just don’t want you to become used to saying such things and then let something slip that it would be better I did not know./

“Yes, Mithrandir. Goheno nin.”

Gandalf smiled. “Maura was saying that Ban is to join you in helping the gardens. He has been getting itchy fingers. Now Maura is definitely on the mend he has been persuaded that he can go off and enjoy himself now.”

Penny couldn’t help but grin. “They are very close, I know. It will help...” She stopped herself.

Gandalf looked at her. /For that reason Ban was chosen. I am glad it was the right choice, though I never doubted it for a moment./

They were coming out of the halls and down a path to the largest glade to have a fountain in it. Penny was delighted to see Bilbo seated on a bench, Pippin and Merry chatting busily to him already. She had not met Bilbo yet since he rarely joined them at mealtimes.

As she neared them with Mithrandir Bilbo stood and bowed.

“Gandalf. Lady Pen-ii, I am delighted to meet you properly at last. Maura has told me a little of you. He is helping you with Sindarin I understand?”

Penny bowed a little, having guessed something of what Bilbo had said.

“Bilba Labingi, it is an honour.”

Bilbo smiled as Mithrandir translated and then sat down once more indicating for Mithrandir and Penny to join him. Frodo had a book with him but Bilbo quickly fell into conversation with him. Sam, Pippin and Merry were now off nearby chatting and laughing.

Penny turned to Gandalf. “Is there no class distinction between Raz and Kali and Ban? Ban is Maura’s servant, isn’t he? Or have things changed since they journeyed together?”

“There is some distinction. Kali and Raz are heirs to important positions in Sûza, as I am sure you do not need me to tell you. The Tûks, Brandagambas and Labingis are all important families there. Ban is different. But they are all friends and have known each other all their lives. It is true their journey here made them closer still and broke down the few barriers there may have been. Do not let them deceive you, though, Ban is a simple kuduk and happy enough with simple things. Nor is there anything wrong with that. It is for that very reason I love him, as do his fellow companions.”

Penny nodded. Sam was certainly the more reserved of the three youngest hobbits. As much from his nature as his position she suspected.

Bilbo and Frodo had decided to go for a little stroll and, as she watched them, Penny murmured, “I can’t believe I’ve just met him.”

“Who? Bilba?”

She nodded. “He is very important to the story, as you well know. His journey to Erebor and finding the Ring is one whole book in itself. It is his story that we have: his version of the whole story from then onwards and through the War, that Maura continues and then Kali, I seem to remember. Kali or Raz but I think it’s Kali, though it could be both. It becomes part of kuduk folklore and is handed down over the years till eventually it comes to us. To my time.”

Gandalf looked both amused and astonished by this. “Bilba’s account of things! Dear me!”

Penny laughed, “Well, yes. You do say his is not the most accurate portrayal of events somewhere. But Maura corrects quite a bit I think. As does Kali.”

Gandalf muttered, “I should think so too!”

“I would like to hear your side of it all, Mithrandir. Your meeting with Thorin and how difficult it was to persuade him to take Bilba and what a nincompoop the dwarves thought him.”

Gandalf, understanding the meaning asked, “‘Nincompoop’? That is a word?”

Penny nodded.

“Hmm. I think I like it. ‘Nincompoop’ – it has a nice ring to it. ‘Nin- com-POOP’. Ah! Very satisfying.”

A ball whizzed past them, landing in a nearby rosebush.

“Razanur Tûk, you ‘nincompoop’! Have more care where you are throwing things!” Gandalf boomed at him.

There was a brief silence and then, in the distance, a small voice said, sounding slightly confused, “‘Nincompoop’, Gandalf?”

“Yes, ‘nincompoop’. Describes you perfectly, Raz.”

Penny started giggling uncontrollably.

She was still giggling when Mireth arrived. Gandalf, his eyebrows waggling with amusement, bade them farewell and went off to explain to Pippin exactly what a ‘nincompoop’ was and why he was one.

Weaving was not nearly as bad as she had feared. She was not any good at it but she tried.

Mireth showed her the huge looms on which cloth was made. All very impressive. Then she showed her, nearby, a massive barn filled with huge vats of dye and cloths, wools and threads drying from ropes strung across the space.

Penny was given a frame loom. It was a rectangle with nails or pins across the top and bottom edges. She was shown how to thread it up so creating the ‘weft’ and then she was shown how to weave.

Mireth indicated bags nearby filled with strips of material, some near rags. Penny looked puzzled. Mireth pointed at her skirts and said two words, one of them ‘dress’. Old clothes. Cut into pieces. This was what she would use first of all and only then progress onto other things.

The weaving was done by hand, no machinery to lift up alternate threads, and back-breaking. The frame she had been given wasn’t too large compared to others. It leant against one wall and was about four foot by three. She had a stool to sit on but to start off with she had to sit on the floor as she worked since it was so low down. Several other elleths were working next to her. First of all she watched them work, then they offered her to try on theirs. She noticed that with every one they undid all her work when they thought she wasn’t looking. At least they tried to be discrete and made encouraging noises at her.

Then it was her turn. She had a bag of rags, a thing a bit like a comb to push down the weft once she had threaded it in and out of the warp, and a long, flat stick that was threaded under and over the warp and could be turned on its side (so raising all the threads running over it) and making at least going one way across the loom a lot quicker.

It became fairly clear that she was pulling everything too tight. Rather than leave it like that she pulled it all out and started again. And again.

She could feel her back aching so she had to stop in the end having achieved only a few inches in thickness of woven rags. The elleths had been watching her and been impressed by her conscientiousness and nodded their approval when she had pulled the ribbons of cloth out and started anew each time.

Mireth made it clear that this was now designated her loom. No one else would touch it. So she could come back whenever she wanted, if she wanted, and continue in her own time. She nodded. Fair enough. Even if she never did it again she would finish this one at least.

Dusk was falling as they made their way back to the halls. Mireth was saying something about horses and Lindir. Penny was not sure what, though, so she made brushing motions and said ‘horse’ then pointed at her eye and said ‘Lindir’ to indicate he had been watching her and teaching her. Mireth nodded.

“Celebdor and Lindir are friends,” said Mireth.

Penny nodded since ‘mellon’ was a word she did not need to be taught. She had realised that over lunch as the two had chatted amiably over the top of her head.

“Me.” Penny pointed at herself. “At lunch.” She made eating motions and then said ‘today’. She then made a horizontal circular motion with her finger as she said, “Ellon.” She pointed next to herself as she said, “Lindir.” She pointed opposite in front of herself, “Celebdor.” Then, pointing at every other ‘seat’ beside her, “Ellon, ellon, ellon. Me?” She pointed to herself again and then put her hands to her cheeks, shook her head and looked down to indicate being utterly overwhelmed by the maleness of it all.

Mireth roared with laughter. “Ah! Poor Pen-ii!”

Penny excused herself to go and do some ‘quill practice’ for Erestor’s lesson tomorrow. She lit two lanterns from the torches in the hallway outside her room and sat at the small table in her room.

She tried to keep it all as neat as possible: straight lines and small letters even if it meant they were less legible that they might be. Ink splots didn’t help either. Erestor was not going to be impressed. Still, she pressed on.

God, it was like being four all over again! Row upon row of letter forming. Bloody ridiculous! She was twenty-three for God’s sake! Twenty- three, with a job, a flat, and a boyfriend! ...

...Okay, she had to admit ‘a dweeb who she had failed to not sleep with once when she had got seriously hammered’ did not really count as ‘a boyfriend’.

She sighed and laid down her quill for a few minutes, rubbing her thumb into the palm of her hand to try and relieve the cramp. She looked at her fingers to realise they were covered in ink. JUST like being back at school. She shook her head.

Odd. She was not missing home anymore. She had not thought of it for a day or two. Now she let herself think about it she kind of missed mum. Kind of.

She felt vaguely guilty that she didn’t miss her brother at all but then she strongly suspected, were their situations reversed, he wouldn’t have missed her either. She also did not miss her job, rush-hour hell on the London tube, or taxes. Or bovril. Or anchovies.

She did miss chocolate, though. And ice-cream. And marmite on toast. And...

God, she was hungry!

A bell rang. Supper. She stared at her paper. Half finished and it looked a right bloody mess. She groaned. She would do the rest later.

Lindir is the only named elf who comments on Bilbo’s Earendil poem that he recites in the Hall of Fire the night before the Council of Elrond is held. And if you want to read Gandalf's version of the beginning of The Hobbit then you'll find it in Unfinished Tales.

Bain - beautiful

Ellon - male elf

For all non-Brits: Marmite is much like the Australian 'Vegemite' (which I strongly suspect I cannot spell) – a yeast spread. People either consider it the nectar of the gods or think that it tastes like cat vomit. There is no in between. It is a love or hate thing. Bovril is similar (though you can – horror of horrors – make it into a hot drink!) and is, of course, the work of the devil.