60: Sador on Tol Eressëa

Tol Eressëa proved quite interesting to young Sador as he rode beside Netilmírë. They were heading for Kortirion, the main city that sat on a great height in the center of the island overlooking the plains and valleys that fell towards the sea. He was so busy trying to see everything at once as their party made their way through Kortirion’s busy streets that Netilmírë finally put her hand out and touched his arm to get his attention.

"Sador, please, you’re making me dizzy," she laughed. "Kortirion is not going to disappear. You’ll have plenty of time to see whatever you desire."

Sador blushed. "Sorry, Mistress."

Netilmírë nodded, the light of amusement still in her eyes. "See now, we are coming to the inn where we’ll be staying. I for one am looking forward to a long hot soak and a good hot meal."

Sador grinned, feeling the same. An hour later he was freshly bathed and pulling out clean clothes from his pack. Digging for a shirt he came upon a package wrapped with colored paper and string. Attached to the string was a piece of parchment on which was written in careful tengwar script in the Beleriandic mode:

An edhel dithen veren nîn. Ada.

Opening the package he found a stuffed toy and suddenly he was crying, hugging the toy to him. It took him several minutes to get himself under control but finally the tears ceased and he was calm again. He quietly put the toy back in the bottom of his pack, placing it inside the wardrobe before going to join the others for dinner.

****

Netilmírë and the other guildmasters were to meet with their Tol Eressëan counterparts the next morning. Netilmírë suggested to Sador while they supped that he might wish to spend the day exploring the city.

"This initial meeting will be more an introduction and none of the apprentices have been invited," she explained. "Indeed, I suspect that no apprentices will be invited to any of the meetings, so this will give you the freedom to pursue your own mission."

Gilvagor offered to show the ellon around and Sador readily agreed. Thus, morning found them wandering the streets, with no particular destination in mind. Sador reveled in the sound of Sindarin being softly spoken and no one looked twice at him because of his braids. They were new enough to him that he still felt self-conscious wearing them, but the elves of Kortirion merely nodded and smiled his way and he began to relax. Indeed, he felt at home for the first time since being re-embodied and thought that he would like to live in Kortirion someday.

The ellyn came to a small square where a fountain sang gaily while elflings played around it in a game that made sense only to them. "It’s a beautiful city," Sador commented to Gilvagor.

"It has its good points," Gilvagor said with a small smile. "I know the Noldóran has given you a mission for him, but I do not know the particulars. Tell me what you will and I will do my best to help you achieve your goal."

Sador sat for a moment, thinking. "Adar did not give me any specific instructions except to speak to as many people as possible, listening to their hopes and dreams, but not necessarily speaking about kings and such. I think he wants to know what the populace think rather than just the leaders of the island."

Gilvagor nodded, looking thoughtful. "We have few leaders and one of them is now in Lórien." He gave Sador a wry smile. "Perhaps the best place to start will be one of the markets. That’s where the best gossip is anyway."

"And you know this because?" Sador asked with a grin.

"Ah," Gilvagor laughed. "That would be telling."

So, they made their way to the market square and wandered through the stalls, idly speaking to this person or that, admiring the goods, haggling for one or two items that Sador wanted to buy for his gwedyr. What information they received had little to do with the state of the government, or the lack thereof, and much to do with the prices of foodstuffs that could not be grown on the island but had to be imported from the farming communities of Aman.

"They charge too much for transport," one merchant opined. "And it’s not even luxury items either, but necessary staples that all need."

Sador carefully stored that piece of information away as he thanked the merchant for his time and continued on. Eventually the two ellyn made their way to an inn for lunch. The inn was not full, but there were still a number of patrons enjoying the noon meal. Sador tried to overhear some of the conversations that were going on around him. Most of them seemed to center around the fact that more and more elves were coming West and there was fear that there would not be room enough for all of them on the island.

"It is, after all, not a very large island," one patron commented to another at a nearby table. "I fear that we will suffer from overpopulation if something isn’t done."

"What do you suggest should be done then?" his companion asked.

The first elf shrugged. "I hear that much of Valinor is wilderness. Perhaps the Valar would allow us to migrate."

The second elf frowned. "They made it clear that we weren’t welcome in Aman, especially the Noldorin Exiles. It seems that we Sindar have been tarred with the same brush as they."

"Well we did refuse their call, so I can see their point. Still, it would be nice to see other places, explore new lands."

"Well, it sounds nice, but I don’t see Them being that generous towards us. They love their precious Edhil e-Dor Rodyn more."

Sador gave Gilvagor a quick glance and the ellon shrugged. The Sinda stored the conversation away for future reference.

Over the next couple of days, as he wandered through the city and even out into the nearby countryside, Sador began to detect a pattern in the malaise that seemed to permeate the island’s inhabitants. There was a growing discontent concerning the higher prices for certain items of trade and the feeling that the island was becoming overcrowded as more elves sailed West. Sador realized that the two concerns were somewhat related, though he could not see his way to a solution.

Each evening after dinner, the ellon would sit down and write out every scrap of conversation or information he could remember from his wanderings. He tried to make his report as coherent as possible, disguised as a letter to "Atto":

Dear Atto,

Aunt Netilmírë and I are enjoying ourselves very much. While Aunt is busy setting up trade agreements I am busy wandering the city with my friend Gilvagor. We have overheard some rather amusing conversations of late. I have appended the more interesting of them to this letter.

Gilvagor has been very helpful in introducing me to his friends. Many of them are Sindar but there are several Noldor as well, even one or two Nandor. The Noldor are quite different from the ones I remember from my youth. They are quieter than usual, less haughty, and their eyes are haunted with guilt, I think. It is very sad.

The Sindar are also quiet and I think many are still adjusting to life here without the constant threat of attacks by orcs and such. I have seen not a few jump at the slightest sound, then look embarrassed when they see that it is nothing. I feel sorry for them.

The few Nandor I have met are the most unfortunate. They do not like the cities or even the small communities that surround Kortirion and Avallónë. They prefer the wilder areas of the island, only there aren’t that many and I think they are regretting leaving Endórë.

And of course, there are the Reborn. They too are different from those I know elsewhere. The elves of Tol Eressëa are more accepting of them, but I think they feel inferior to those who managed to survive the War of Wrath and such. It is very heartbreaking to see. And I know how they feel.

Anyway, I hope you and emmë are well. Please tell my hannor that I miss them and hope to see them soon.

Edhel dithen veren gîn, Sador

****

After the first week, Netilmírë began to regret coming to Tol Eressëa. The Tol Eressëan guildmasters were Sindar to the core and only one spoke Quenya with any amount of fluency. Much of the conversation was conducted with Arodeth acting as a translator. The Sindarin masters, it turned out, had little use for any exchange of information and techniques between them and the Amaneldi.

"You Noldor were always arrogant from the very beginning," one elleth said bitterly. She was a master weaver. "We don’t need you to tell us how we are doing things wrong and lord it over us."

"We do not wish to lord it over you, as you say," Netilmírë said as calmly as she could, though she was seething inside. "We think it’s time that the elves of Tol Eressëa begin to feel a part of Aman. The Noldóran thinks that mutual exchange of information and techniques would be a benefit to both groups of elves."

"Perhaps," one of the Sindar conceded, a master of the smith’s guild. "I heard the King of the Noldor’s own son is one of the Reborn and that he used to be a king in Beleriand. I imagine that Finarfin would be very happy to see his son ruling over us as well."

Netilmírë shook her head. "Prince Findaráto has said he does not wish to rule again. He is content to sit by his atar’s side. Indeed, when the Tol Eressëan embassy broached the subject to him, he flat out refused to consider it. But we are not here to discuss politics. We are here to discuss mutual exchange of apprentices and journeymen who will only benefit from being exposed to different ways of doing things, thereby enriching us all."

"Enriching the elves of Aman, you mean," said another Sinda, this one a master tanner. "I doubt if we of Tol Eressëa will see any real benefit from all of this."

And so it went.

By the second week the talks had nearly broken down completely and Netilmírë and the other guildmasters from Tirion were at a loss as to what to do. They hated the idea of going back to Tirion empty-handed. It was Gilvagor who gave them a suggestion.

"Take Sador with you to the next meeting," the Noldo said. "Show them that you do not disparage the Sindar or consider them inferior to yourselves."

Netilmírë glanced at Sador who shrugged. "It won’t hurt to try."

So it was decided.

The next day Sador dressed in his best tunic and carefully braided his hair. He was nervous but he tried not to show it and Netilmírë looked upon him with approval. When they arrived at the meeting hall, though, they were met with great hostility.

"We agreed not to bring any of our apprentices and journeymen to these meetings," said the weaver master, her eyes flashing as she looked at Sador. "And since when are the Amaneldi allowed to wear warrior braids? It’s an insult."

"I’m not an elf of Aman," Sador said quietly, speaking Sindarin. "I am one of the Iathrim and I died at the Havens of Sirion. I have been recently re-embodied and as there were none of my kin to welcome me, I became a ward of the Aran Golodhrim and now serve as an apprentice to Mistress Netilmírë."

"Why would the King of the Noldor take a Sinda as ward?" asked the tanner.

"Because his son, Finrod, is my gwador," Sador said coldly and unflinchingly. He did not like the belligerent and disrespectful attitude of these guildmasters towards his own mistress or towards the Noldorin royal family.

The guildmasters looked suitably chastened by Sador’s words, but they weren’t completely satisfied with the reason for his presence at their meeting.

"I thought you would like to meet Sador," Netilmírë said. "He is an excellent potter and had he not been brutally slain by one of the Kinslayers, he would have been a master by now, I have no doubt. Arafinwë thought that Sador could benefit from my own expertise."

"And how does it feel to be an apprentice to an Amanelda?" the weaver master asked. "You wear warrior braids and yet you demean yourself by becoming the apprentice of one who is not of your own people."

Sador raised an eyebrow at that. "I was a potter long before I was a warrior, mistress. The destruction of Doriath forced me to put aside the potter and become the warrior."

All of which was complete nonsense, of course, but they didn’t need to know that and he did not think either Netilmírë or Arodeth would correct him.

"Now that I have been Reborn," he continued, "I can once again take up the potter’s wheel rather than the sword, but I will not forget what these braids cost me, and so I continue to wear them. And there is no shame in wanting to learn from the best." He flashed a grin at Netilmírë and winked. She winked back.

There did not seem to be much to say about that, but the Tol Eressëans were clearly unhappy and Sador left the meeting sometime later feeling unquiet in his mind.

"What are you thinking, Sador?" Netilmírë asked tiredly. The constant battle of wills was beginning to take their toll and she looked grey.

Sador stopped and looked gravely into her eyes. "I think Laurendil understated the problem. I have wandered the city and the countryside these last two weeks and there is much discontent and fear. The obvious hostility of the guildmasters is but a shadow of the real problem." He stared at nothing in particular for a long moment before returning his attention to Netilmírë. "I think Tol Eressëa is an explosion waiting to happen."

Netilmírë sighed and nodded. "I fear you are correct, young Sador." Then she smiled weakly. "You were quite impressive back there for all that you were piling one falsehood on top of another."

Sador sighed himself, shaking his head. "I wish Finrod and Glorfindel were here. They would know what to do."

****

An edhel dithen veren nîn. Ada: (Sindarin) "For my bold little elf. Papa."

Edhel dithen veren gîn: (Sindarin) "Your bold little elf."

Edhil e-Dor Rodyn: (Sindarin) Elves of Valinor, the Sindarin equivalent of the Quenya Amaneldi.

Hannor: (Quenya) Plural of hanno (colloquial): brother.

Iathrim: (Sindarin) Elves of Doriath; iath "fence" + rim: "people, as a class".

Aran Golodhrim: (Sindarin) King of the Noldor, the Sindarin equivalent of the Quenya Noldóran.