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The Green Knight  by Le Rouret


37.

 

Dear Pippin,

 

I have just been informed by Gimli, who is sitting here beside me at my desk in Osgiliath, reading over my shoulder and casting many aspersions upon my handwriting, that I have not begun this letter in a manner fitting an Elven prince writing to the future Thain of Tookland.  Although I find it a waste of both paper and ink, to please him I shall relent and begin anew.

 

From Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, Lord of Dol Galenehtar, the Green Knight of Ithilien, Champion of Lady Éowyn of Emyn Arnen, of the Nine Walkers,

 

To Peregrin Took, Son of the Thain of Tookland, Guard of the Citadel, Kinsman and Companion of the Beloved Ringbearer, Slayer of the Great Troll, Elf-friend and beloved of the Men of Gondor,

 

Greetings and Salutations to you, and to your friend and companion Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Nine Walkers, Master of Buckland, Knight of Rohan, and Nazgûl-Bane.

 

Gimli thinks that will do.  I shall continue with my epistle now.

 

Pippin’s chuckles woke Merry from his dozing by the fire.  He blinked, looked about the snug sitting room in their house in Crickhollow, and stretched comfortably.  It was evening, and the weather sobbed and howled its lachrymose song without; the rain was mixed with sleet and ice coated the glazed windows.  But inside their house it was warm and cozy; Pippin’s widowed sister Pearl, who kept house for them, sat by the hearth knitting stockings; the kettle was simmering gently in the inglenook, and Holbard Boffin had just delivered some letters from the post office in Bree.  One of these, a large cream-colored envelope, had been addressed in a thin graceful script to Peregrin Took, and Pippin had declared he would leave the mysterious epistle until after he had dealt with his other affairs, so as to give him incentive to wrap up his unpleasant duties more rapidly.  Merry had agreed, read the short amusing letter from King Éomer to them both, and afterwards had dozed off in his squashy armchair.  It was Pippin’s amused snort that had woken him.

            “What is it, Pip?” he asked with a yawn.

            “It’s a letter from Legolas,” said Pippin, still chuckling.  “I haven’t heard from him in almost a year.  I can’t wait to hear what he and Gimli have been up to.”

            “Read it aloud,” suggested Merry, knocking the cold ashes from his pipe onto the hearth.  “Pearl and I could use a dose of his light-heartedness, couldn’t we, Mistress Pearl?”

            “All right,” said Pippin, and began the letter again.  After he had read the convoluted introduction Pearl grimaced.

            “Did he have to use so many titles?” she asked.  “That sounds rather pompous.”

            “O, there is nothing pompous about Legolas!” laughed Merry.  “Never fear, Mistress Pearl; he’s an Elf and a prince besides, but a capital fellow anyway, and quite amusing; very handy in a tight pinch too.”

            “I wonder where Dol Galenehtar is?” mused Pippin.  “I’d heard Faramir had given him some land in Ithilien; perhaps that’s what he’s named it.”

            “I know ‘Dol’ means ‘tower,’” said Merry, “but what does ‘Galenehtar’ mean?”

            “Not sure; my Elvish was never good,” said Pippin.  “Maybe he’ll explain it later.”

Greetings from the ostensibly warm and merry south!  Though at present it is rising winter, and the rains have set in; the streams and waterfalls of my fiefdom are swollen and black and there is talk in Osgiliath of the laying out of sand-bags to prevent the eastern wall from collapsing.  It is for that purpose Gimli and sundry of his companions are here, to oversee the construction, for if Osgiliath’s river-wall falls it will mean the destruction of at least three great houses.  Loath was he to leave Aglarond and its glories of gold and gemstones, its glittering caverns and lofty lights, its wealth-choked halls and

            There was a straggling inky smudge after that, which Pippin puzzled over until he read on:

Gimli has just struck me upon the arm.  I do not think he appreciated my description of his home.  I ought to be kind to him, for he has just given me the blueprints for my own tower, the construction of which shall begin this summer.  I shall name it Dol Galenehtar, which means Tower of the Green Knight.  Already I have contracted with Cirien of Langstrand for the delivery of white marble to sheathe its façade, and many skilled artisans and stone-masons have been hired to see to its formation.  I hope that you shall see it when it is completed; it shall be a marvel of architecture, full of soaring arches, ornate stonework, statuary and open-faced buildings embracing groves of trees – a delightful marriage of forest and masonry.

 

Gimli is smiling.  I think I have propitiated him.

 

            “Are you sure those two are friends?” asked Pearl.  “They sound as though they have a rather tentative relationship.”

            “Well, they are Elf and Dwarf,” said Merry with a laugh.  “And they were always scrapping with one another, even after they became friends.  But they are very attached to each other, and would do anything for the sake of their friendship.”

I am surprised I have not heard from you, especially as my last letter was written so long ago; I can only assume it went astray and you have never received it.

 

            “Well, that’s a stunner!” cried Pippin.  “You mean I’ve missed one of his letters, and he’s been waiting to hear from me?  How vexing!”

            “I’ll wager anything it was Butterbur’s doing,” said Merry darkly.  “Ever since he took over the post in Bree all sorts of things have gone missing.  That Man could lose his own house, foundation and all.”

I am certain in fact you have not received it – you surely would have responded, considering the news I had for you, when I was in my Lord Father’s realm in Eryn Lasgalen, which you call Mirkwood.  I shall suppose therefore you are so far ignorant of those things that I have caused to be accomplished, which affect you and your kin so closely, and therefore I shall reiterate what I wrote previously.

 

            “What on earth is he playing at?” asked Merry.  “I can’t imagine anything happening in Mirkwood that would have anything to do with us here in the Shire.”

            “Hush!” said Pippin, throwing him a dark look.

Out of my concern for your sister Pearl Took, recently bereaved wife of your cousin Reginard, please convey to her forthwith the assurance that her son Bandobras is well and happy.

 

            “What?” cried Merry, sitting up so quickly he knocked over his teacup.  Pearl turned quite pale, and clutched at her breast, her eyes staring.  Pippin looked amazed at the letter, re-read the sentence to himself, then looked up at her, his eyes alight.

            “Bandy’s alive!” he exclaimed.  “Pearl!  Your Bandy’s alive!”

            “How on earth did he get to Mirkwood?” demanded Merry.  “Read, Pip, or I’ll flay you alive!”

            “Patience, patience!” said Pippin crossly.  “Wait a moment, I’ve lost my place.”

            “O hurry, Pippin!” gasped Pearl.  “O, I can hardly believe it!  I – I – “

            “Whoop!”  Pippin jumped to his feet, flinging the letter aside.  “Help me here, Merry, Pearl’s fainted.”

            It took the two Hobbits a moment to revive Pearl; they lifted her feet onto the cushion, loosened her stays, rubbed her wrists and laid a cold cloth on her forehead.  When at last her eyes fluttered open they set her up on the couch, Pippin covering her with a fur rug while Merry fixed her a cup of tea.  After she feverishly assured them she was well and wanted above all else to hear the rest of the letter, they sat back down and Pippin continued, his two companions listening intently.

As I traveled east through my Father’s realm, I came across him in company with a rough group of Dwarves out of Ered Luin; though they with fear denied it to me most strenuously, it was evident in my eyes that the little lad was being mistreated, which so turned my heart to flame I had the greatest task to curb my temper and to keep my sword sheathed.  I rectified this appalling situation immediately, took the poor thing before me upon my horse and brought him to my Lord Father’s house, where my Lady Mother and her attendants made such fuss and bother over him I am sure he became well simply to escape their attentions.  During this time Gimli came to visit me, and instructed us that Bandobras ought to give his plaint to King Thorin Stonehelm of Erebor, that those vile miscreants who so robbed and enslaved him would receive just punishment.  It was too late for me, however; already his charm, which I am sure you know he possesses in great measure, had begun its nefarious work upon the court; he convinced my Lord Father therefore that I take him as esquire to repay his debt to me, though I amended the traditional five-year apprenticeship to naught but a year, knowing he should be returned to his home as soon as possible.  It was then I wrote to you, sending the letter to Imladris to be forwarded on to Buckland, saying that he was safe and in my care, and that we were going down to Gondor for the Grand Tournament in Osgiliath, which, between Gimli and Bandobras, I was constrained to enter myself, though much against my better judgment.

 

I fully expected to hear from you by autumn at the latest; however the turmoil and commotion engendered by the Tournament (that is a long tale, and better suited to be told in person)

 

 (Gimli disagrees but this letter has gone on long enough; I have just told him if he is so anxious for you to hear how I became Lasgalen of Dale jousting as the Green Knight, he can write to you himself)

 

 so delayed any correspondence from the north-west through Amon Din and Rohan I decided to wait.  But now it is mid-winter, and I am concerned; my letter has been mislaid I guess, and I hope fervently this one reaches you in a timely fashion.

 

Gimli has just admitted that Bandobras will no doubt give you the full tale when you see him.  His only concern is that he will leave out the salient points, such as the treason of Lord Eradan and the loan of gold from Mirkwood to Gondor; it is a convoluted story though, and I cannot imagine it will concern you overmuch.  Of greater interest to you is the well-being of your nephew Bandobras, my esquire and beloved friend; I admit it is with great reluctance I shall return him to his family, for I greatly desire to keep him for myself; he is as you know a delight, and also a clever and bold little fellow (he has had his first man, I should tell you; a full-grown warrior, and Bandobras slew him all by himself, the brave little one); he is also I impress upon you full of compassion and munificence, for he has taken upon himself the task of distributing our stockpiled foodstuffs and goods to the disaffected peoples of Amon Din and the Druadan who are ensconced here in Osgiliath  until their lands can be renewed; also my Bandobras has made many friends among the children orphaned by this unfortunate circumstance, and he is quite popular with them; great shall be the dismay in Ithilien when we depart for the Shire this spring.

 

            “He’s coming back!” cried Pearl, nearly dropping her tea in her excitement.  “My Bandy’s coming home!”

            “Certainly sounds like it,” said Pippin, very satisfied; “and we shall see Legolas again, which is definitely gratifying.  It’s been a few years.”

            “Spring, too,” said Merry thoughtfully.  “I wonder if Gimli will come as well?”

As spring, 2 May to be precise, marks the anniversary of his swearing his fealty to me, upon the dissolution of our covenant we hope to meet you in the town of Bree, at the Crossroads; Gimli and I are planning to come up the Greenway with a faction of Men from Gondor who are plotting out the lands around Lake Nenuial, where our friend Aragorn, Strider to you, will construct the seat of his northern kingdom.

 

            “May the second!” said Pearl, clasping her hands, her eyes shining.  “Why, that is only three months off!”

            “I always thought Strider’d have his palace at Fornost,” said Merry thoughtfully.

            “Well, Lake Evendim, or Nenuial as Legolas calls it, is much better property; a prime spot, you might say,” said Pippin.  “I’d rather live lakeside than by the Downs.”

            “Yes, indeed!” said Merry with a shudder.

Should this letter also go off course, and you not be there when we arrive, we shall travel straight to Buckland, to your house in Crickhollow, and seek you out there; barring catastrophe I am sure we shall meet up with you.

 

            “No fear!” said Pearl.  “I’ll be in Bree on May the second.  I’ll not miss out on the opportunity to get my Bandy back as soon as possible.  To think we all thought he was dead, and here he’s been with this Elven Prince! Fancy that!”

            “There are worse folk he could’ve foregathered with,” agreed Pippin.  “Though I’ll warrant Legolas has spoilt him something terrible, the little urchin.”

            “And an esquire too!” said Merry, his eyes twinkling.  “Why that makes three Hobbits sworn into the service of the Big Folk – you in Gondor, Pip, me in Rohan, and now Bandy in – what was it Legolas called it, Dol Galan . . . “

            Pippin scanned the letter.  “Dol Galenehtar,” he said.  “Tower of the Green Knight.  There’s a tale worth hearing behind that, I’ll wager.”

            “If Gimli’s designed it I wouldn’t mind seeing it myself,” said Merry.  He winked at Pearl and said, “What do you say, Mistress Pearl?  Shall we travel down south to Gondor, to meet all the fine folk we’ve foregathered with, so you can meet Bandy’s new master?”

            “Master, indeed!” sniffed Pearl.  “No, Meriadoc, I’ll wait in Bree for him myself.  What on earth was this Elf thinking, taking my Bandy in as an esquire, and letting him kill one of the Big Folk at his age?  Very slack, to my way of thinking; are you certain sure he’s taking good care of my Bandy?”

            “O yes, Pearl!” said Pippin.  “And I’m sure Bandy only killed the man because it was absolutely necessary – what with treason and soforth that he’s been talking about, sounds as if there was a bit of trouble in Ithilien, and our Bandy got caught up in it.  No, Pearl, he’s safe enough with Legolas and Gimli to look after him – and if he’s got skilled enough at swordplay to kill a full-grown Man, then I’m sure Legolas has done a first-rate job training him as an esquire.”

            “That’s not a skill he’ll use again, I hope,” said Pearl.  “Bandy’d be better off learning more practical stuff, like running a farm or handling legal work.”

            “Sounds like he did,” said Pippin, looking down at the letter.  “See what he’s written here?  He has taken upon himself the task of distributing our stockpiled foodstuffs and goods to the disaffected peoples of Amon Din and the Druadan who are ensconced here in Osgiliath until their lands can be renewed; – sounds as though Bandy’s been doing charity work, and responsible for some great organizing of it besides.  And remember, Merry, Legolas is never idle – always has to be doing something, going somewhere.  I’ll bet you a bottle of Old Winyards Bandy’s learned a heap of things he’d never have picked up in the Shire, even from us.”

            “Well, I suppose,” Pearl conceded, but she still looked unconvinced.

            “What else does he say, Pip?” asked Merry.

            “Let’s see,” said Pippin.

And now for my secondary purpose in the writing of this letter:  There are items of interest I am charged with conveying to you, and greetings also; I had best commence them, lest this letter ramble on and become a book and not an epistle.

 

Gimli has just told me I am too flippant.  I believe he means it to be a reprimand, but to me it sounds more akin to a compliment.

 

Merry laughed, and even Pearl smiled.

Éowyn the White Lady of Rohan is great with child; indeed she is nearly wonderful with it; she has waxed like the full moon and can only move her vast bulk if aided by

 

There was another smudge, and then the letter continued:

Gimli has hit me again, and told me I am churlish to be so uncomplimentary, especially as I am Lady Éowyn’s champion from the Tournament.  Well, perhaps this time he is right.  The child is due any day now, and she is quite uncomfortable; Aragorn however assures us all is well, and foresees no difficulty in bringing the babe forth in the fullness of time.  Faramir is hoping for a girl; Bandobras is hoping for a boy; Éowyn, so she said to me this morning, is only hoping it will soon be over.

 

            Pearl sighed.  “I remember that feeling well enough,” she said.

Osgiliath is going to be rebuilt; Faramir is eager to lure the folk who have lost their homes and villages to Eradan’s men to live therein, once the houses are refortified.  Most of the western portion of the city is quite livable; we have been staying there, or in Minas Tirith, for the duration of the winter; we cannot build our fiefdom until spring.  My Lord Father has granted me four hundred Elves, and I am hoping to draw in the Wanderers as well, to give them safe haven until that day they sail to Valinor.

 

My Lady Mother is convinced I shall not make a good vassal of Gondor lest I am wed; therefore ere she departed Ithilien for her own home she did charge my seneschal, Galás, the task of finding me a wife. Though he is sanguine he has a hard row to hoe, for I am not amenable to this, and shall resist him with all my strength.  Indeed he has all but convinced Arwen Undómiel’s ladies in waiting that I am but biding my time ‘til the trees bud to select one of them to reign by my side, and it is for that reason I have chosen spring to quit Ithilien and leave behind this specious duty, in the questionable hope by the time I return they shall have forgotten it.

 

            “Poor fellow,” sighed Pippin dramatically, winking at his sister; “it must be an awful thing to have achieved one’s majority and be constrained to find a wife.”

            “Now, that’s not fair,” protested Merry, turning quite red.  “When Dad took me aside and asked me about ‘Stella he didn’t put any fatherly pressure on me, he was just looking out for the Bolgers’ interests.”

            “O, of course!” laughed Pippin.

Aragorn has made as I suspected a superlative monarch, forcing the modification of his kingdom to accede to his rule and crushing beneath his heel the dissident factions to the south.  His Queen also I am constrained to say is beloved as she is wise, and though she is for some reason obscure to me unable to sit upon his Privy Council, through quiet guidance and evenhanded judgment she has proved herself as capable as her royal husband in the management of the King’s affairs and is praised by nobility, gentry, and commoner alike for her acumen.  This astonishes me not one whit, as I have by great fortune had the opportunity to so observe my Lady Mother in the selfsame stead; however it seems to me she is observed as the exception to the rule and not an exemplar of a true type, which quite puzzles me.

            “Good for him,” said Pearl.

My own administrative duties are so far light, for as you know Elves are an easily governed people, sober and continent

 

(Gimli has taken objection to my use of the word “sober,” for he feels the dissemination of my wine barrels is far too lavish; however I treat the word not in its potable sense but in its general outlook; my people do not require much in the way of policing)

 

and  I fear it will be the greater task to order the interaction between my people and the mortals who surround us; though they at the time accept our intrusion upon their fiefdom, I fear it is primarily due to my generosity in their distress; we shall see their true posture when the goods are gone and they are compelled to feed themselves.  Also many groves of grape and olive shall be ceded to me, for Faramir lacks the men to tend them; it is my concern that discord shall arise when the profits are not turned to Ithilien but to Dol Galenehtar primarily. 

 

Gimli says I am too pessimistic, and that it disturbs him for it is so unusual in me.  Perhaps he is right, and I am wrong; I hope that I am wrong, for of all the things I desire for Ithilien peace is the uppermost – harmony ‘twixt my people and Faramir’s.

 

            “Gimli’s right I think,” said Pippin; “he’s being awfully cynical.”

            “O I don’t know,” said Merry thoughtfully.  “Men and Elves haven’t always mixed well you know; I think if it’s up to Legolas and Faramir things will run pretty smoothly . . . but it’s all those other folk under them one has to worry about.”

Ithilien shall be to me as Dale is to my Lord Father.  I desire Ithilien to look upon us as Dale did to Eryn Lasgalen, but only time shall tell, and of that I have a sufficient amount I guess.

 

I apologize deeply, my dear Pippin, for inflicting upon you so long and arduous a missive; I swear to you I am finished – at least for now – as is indicated by having said all that was required of me (also a good bit more that was unrequired) save sundry greetings from your friends.

 

Arwen Undómiel sends to you two blessings of the Eldar upon those beloved by the Elves; Éowyn bids me commend her unto you and unto her friend and fellow warrior Meriadoc; Faramir begs to send his deepest regards to one lately in his father’s service; Aragorn asked me to say this:  “Strider shall come up to Bree and buy a cup of ale for his three favorite Hobbits.”  And as to what Gimli would say to you, reticence and a delicate conscience forbid

 

There was another smear of ink; upon reporting this both Merry and Pearl laughed.

I ought to wear my polder-mitten, to so prevent this peevish Dwarf hitting me so often.  I am instructed to send to you his deepest and most tender regards, and an enormous desire to share a pipe and a bag of pipe-weed with you upon our arrival – an occurrence I anticipate with not a little trepidation, and I beg you to pardon me should I sit upwind of you during this episode.

 

I shall not wait upon your reply, for should spring come and I hear not from you I may not wait, but meet you upon the second day of the month of May at the Crossroads in Bree.

 

Affectionately yours

 

Legolas

 

P.S.  Gimli has instructed me to end the letter in a more fitting manner.  How is this?

 

With profound and gentle sorrow that our paths are so sundered, and coupled in the company of unfathomable sentiments of affection towards you, beloved Peregrin son of Paladin, of the Tower Guard and with fulsome regard to your station and person, I remain

 

Your adored ally and comrade in arms,

 

Legolas Thranduilion

 

P.P.S.  Gimli thinks that will do.

 

L.

            “Well, we’d best be writing to Butterbur,” sighed Merry as Pippin handed the letter to Pearl to reread. “So as to make sure we have some rooms at the Prancing Pony.  It’s a long way from Gondor and almost anything could happen to them in the meantime.”

 





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