8: Dinner with Friends

Valandur entered the Rose and Crown and looked about for his friends, but did not see them in the crowd of people. His shoulders sagged. Obviously, his friends had given up on him. Damn Aldamir and Findis both! He started to turn away, ready to return to the palace but was stopped by one of the servers.

“Were you looking for someone, master?” he asked.

“Friends,” Valandur replied. “I was unavoidably delayed and sent a note but I fear they gave up on me.”

“We have two parties in private parlors. Shall I see if either is expecting you? What name should I give?”

“Valandur.”

The server nodded and made his way past the crowded tables and down a short hall, stopping before a door and opening it. He stuck his head in for a second and then retreated, looking back at Valandur with a shake of his head before moving further down the hall to another door on the opposite side. He opened it slightly and poked his head in and then stepped back quickly as the door was flung open and Calandil came out. At the sight of his otorno, Valandur felt a great weight lift from him and he smiled as Calandil quickly reached him, giving him a brief hug.

“Métimavë! I did not think you would ever come,” he exclaimed, drawing Valandur with him to the parlor.

“I’m sorry. I got away as quickly as I could,” Valandur said.

“Well you are here now and that is all that matters.”

Calandil ushered him into the parlor and everyone there greeted him warmly, hugging him.

“I was so surprised to get your note,” Simpandil said, being the first to reach him. “I even composed a tune in honor of the occasion.” He held up the flute that he always carried with him.

“I look forward to hearing it,” Valandur said with a grin. “Aldarion, it is good to see you again, meldonya.”

“And you.” Aldarion gave him a brief hug and then stepped back to allow Cemendur, Ferenion and Amandil to also greet him.

“I took the liberty of ordering for us all so as to save time,” Calandil said to Valandur as they all took seats. “Dinner should be arriving soon.”

“Thank you,” Valandur said. “I apologize for the delay.”

“What’s the book?” Ferenion asked as he poured some wine into an empty goblet and handed it to Valandur.

Valandur passed the book to him and he opened it. “Rúmil! Valar! I can barely read it, it’s been too long and I’ve forgotten much.” He handed the book back to Valandur.

“We all have,” Cemendur observed. “When we first came here, Rúmil hadn’t even begun to create his writing system.” He chuckled. “Do you remember us all struggling to learn it?”

“Some of us learned it faster than others, as I recall,” Aldarion said, giving Valandur a wink and Valandur resisted a sigh, for in truth, he, more than the others, had had a difficult time learning the art of reading and writing.

“It was an interesting time,” Calandil said with a faint smile, giving Valandur a squeeze on his arm, which let Valandur know that none of his friends thought the less of him, that they were all proud of his achievements.

“And now one of us is a loremaster,” Simpandil exclaimed, giving Valandur a bright smile.

“And about time, too,” Cemendur retorted with a huff. “I almost despaired of ever being able to begin a sentence with ‘As my friend the loremaster would say…’.”

The others laughed, including Valandur. “Well, I’m glad I am able to oblige.”

“So what exactly are you doing here?” Aldarion asked. “And why were you delayed? Were you busy with the negotiations?”

Valandur gave them a rueful look. “No. I am not involved with the negotiations at all. I am only an observer sent by Ingwë to determine the extent to which our two clans have parted ways linguistically and how that might affect the negotiations.”

The others looked confused. “Then you are not part of the Vanyarin trade delegation?” Simpandil asked somewhat hesitantly, as if afraid of offending him.

“Not officially,” Valandur replied. “To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure why I am here. I made the mistake of voicing a concern that I felt needed to be addressed before the negotiations went too much further and was relegated to scribal duties for my pains. That’s why I was delayed.”

“I thought… I mean, I just figured that you being chosen to be a member of the trade delegation was because the Vanyar recognized your worth, that you were being honored, but it sounds as if your own people have no respect for your talents,” Simpandil said, looking upset.

Valandur shrugged. “Ingwë does. He even admitted to having read my thesis, which, if I recall, none of you ever have,” he said with a straight face and the others gave him chagrined looks.

“Well, I tried reading it, honestly I did,” Calandil admitted, “but I don’t….”

Valandur laughed. “Oh, I would’ve been very surprised if any of you had read it. It’s not light reading, by any means, and I was genuinely surprised, not to say shocked, when Ingwë told me he had read it and even understood it.”

Calandil started to comment but the door opened and a couple of servers entered bearing trays filled with several dishes and for a while Valandur and his friends busied themselves with eating. After several minutes as the seven ellyn filled themselves with the fish stew, which was followed by a venison custard with frumenty and a sallet, Calandil picked up the conversation again.

“Well, I do not care why you are here, meldonya. I am only glad that you are. How many yéni have we all tried to get you to come to Tirion for a visit and it took the High King himself to do it.”

“And why did none of you bother to come visit me in Vanyamar, hmm?” Valandur retaliated with a knowing smile.

“You forget we saw you at the feasts given by the Valar,” Calandil rejoined.

“That was on Taniquetil,” Valandur shot back. “As I recall, none of you actually entered the city, you went around on the road instead. Well, it hardly matters. You are correct, Calandil, to say that it took Ingwë asking me to come here for me to do so and, in spite of how things are between me and certain members of the delegation, I’m glad he did.”

“And I say, good enough for him and me that he did.” Calandil raised his goblet. “To the Ingaran.”

“To the Ingaran,” they all intoned, raising their own goblets to drink the toast.

“And why did you bring the book?” Ferenion asked. “Did you think to impress us with your erudite knowledge now that you are a loremaster?”

“No. I was given the book as a loan from Princess Findis whom I happened to visit on a matter concerning the trade negotiations before I came here. There was no time to return the book to my chambers so I brought it with me.”

They all looked suitably impressed, though Cemendur, ever the most sensible and down-to-earth of them all, gave him a shrewd look. “You’re smitten.”

“What?!” Valandur exclaimed with a nervous laugh.

Cemendur nodded. “You went all dreamy-eyed when you mentioned Princess Findis’ name.”

“I did not!” protested Valandur.

“Oh yes you did,” Cemendur crowed. “Your eyes sparkled and you had a silly look on your face. Didn’t he?” He turned to the others for confirmation but most of them just shrugged. Simpandil, however, nodded.

“Cemendur is speaking truly, Brother,” he said. “I recognize the signs. You are taken with the fair princess. So what is it about her that causes you to be smitten? Her hair? Her eyes? Her…”

“Her voice,” Valandur said without thinking and then blushed at being caught out.

The others gave him appraising looks. “She’s a little beyond your reach, though,” Calandil said gently.

Valandur nodded. “Yes. I know. There can be nothing between us for she is too high above me. Now, can we change the subject?”

The others gave him knowing smiles and Aldarion asked Valandur about his parents and how he was finding life as a loremaster teaching at the Academy. Valandur gratefully answered and the subject of Princess Findis was not raised again that evening. Once they finished their meal and were relaxing with wine, Simpandil gave them an impromptu concert which they all enjoyed.

“I remember when you had your Essecilmë ceremony,” Valandur said to Simpandil. “I thought your choice of name was most appropriate.”

“I was surprised at yours,” Simpandil replied. “I remember thinking: Valandur? That’s a bit presumptuous of you, for are we not all devoted to the Valar and eager to serve them?”

Valandur shrugged. “I thought it was the proper name for me at the time,” he said diffidently.

“Oh, I agree, now, but then, I wasn’t sure. Yet, you Vanyar have ever been closer to the Valar than the rest of us, I deem.”

“In spirit, perhaps,” Calandil said, “but we are all beloved of the Valar.”

“Yes, we are,” Valandur said firmly, “and just because I live in Vanyamar at the foot of Taniquetil, do not think I converse with the Valar or the Maiar every day. I can count on one hand the number of times I have actually spoken face-to-face with a Maia and never with a Vala, and that holds true with most of us unless we live in Eldamas and serve the Valar directly.”

“I think that all of us have done well in our name-choosing,” Ferenion said. “I have to think about what my name was before. It was rather uncouth as I recall: Nelyahilmo and my older brothers were Minyahilmo and Tatyahilmo. Atto had no imagination.”

The others chuckled. “Yet at the time the names given to us by our parents served us well, but I know that when we finally reached these shores I wanted a new name with which to celebrate our new lives,” Calandil said and the others nodded in agreement.

Eventually, the party broke up with promises that they would get together again soon. “I belong to a flute choir,” Simpandil said to Valandur as he was making his farewell, “and we are scheduled to give a concert in Finwë Park soon. I will let you know when.”

“I would like that, thank you,” Valandur said, giving him a hug.

Then Ferenion, Cemendur and Amandil were also making their farewells until only Aldarion and Calandil were left. “Aldarion, if you could stay for a moment,” Calandil said as the ellon was about to follow the others out.

He gave Calandil and Valandur an enquiring look. “What is it?”

“You know Eldacáno.” It was not a question, but Aldarion nodded. “Well, Valandur would like an introduction to him, him and his son, Nambarauto.”

Aldarion gave them a puzzled look. “But why not just go to Minalcar and have him introduce you to his son and grandson?”

“I had thought of that,” Valandur replied, “but I have no idea if Minalcar would even remember me. Calandil says you know Eldacáno and I would like to meet him and his son. Can you take me to them and if Minalcar is there then it will be a pleasant surprise for all.”

Aldarion gave him a shrewd look. “It seems rather convoluted and underhanded.” He gave Valandur a sly grin. “Almost Noldorin. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Both Valandur and Calandil laughed. “I suppose it is, but I have my reasons. Will you help? If you feel uncomfortable doing so, say so. I will not be offended. I can easily discover where Minalcar lives and visit him on my own.”

Aldarion waved a hand in dismissal. “There is no problem. When are you next free? I can take you to Eldacáno’s shop. Minalcar gave it over to him some yéni ago and pursues other interests so he is rarely there, but Nambarauto will be.”

“I am not sure of my schedule,” Valandur replied. “I know that most of the sessions for the negotiations are planned for when Laurelin is waxing, but we are generally finished within an hour or so after she reaches the height of her blossoming. Let me send you a note once I know when I will be free.”

“Send me a note as well,” Calandil said, “and I will join you.”

Valandur gave him a surprised look. “What reason do you have to join us?”

Calandil shrugged. “Curiosity? Boredom? A need to make sure you don’t do anything stupid or foolish? I’m in need of a copper bowl and…”

Valandur rolled his eyes and Aldarion laughed as the three friends left the parlor and made their way out of the inn. At the first cross street they parted company with Calandil and Aldarion turning toward their residences while Valandur continued up Hwarin Mallë to the palace.

****

Métimavë!: Finally!

Meldonya: My (male) friend.

Essecilmë: Name-choosing; a ceremony whereby a person would name him- or herself according to lámatyávë ‘sound-taste’, i.e. an individual pleasure in the sounds and forms of words.

Hwarin Mallë: Crooked Street.

Note on the dinner:

Venison custard: venison cooked in wine then baked in a pie crust with dates, currants (or raisins), and prunes with beaten eggs poured over it for the custard.

Frumenty: a thick wheat porridge often served with venison.

Sallet: spinach, leeks, onions and currants cooked in a sweet spice mix of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and ginger.

Note on names:

Calandil: Light-friend/lover

Aldarion: Son of the Trees

Cemendur: Earth-servant

Simpandil: Flute-friend/lover

Ferenion: Son of the Beech-tree

Amandil: Aman-friend/lover

Valandur: Valar-servant

Minyahilmo, Tatyahilmo, Nelyahilmo: First-son, Second-son, Third-son; hilmo ‘son’ is Qenya; in LOTR-style Quenya it would be yondo.