The Swan's Song by Kimberleighe

---

Chapter Nine: Wonder & Mystery

Summary: Challenges abound and Idhreniel finds herself accepting a new position.

Many thanks to Scarlet and Oshun! 

It is highly recommended that Into Darkness Fell is read prior to this chapter.  That story provides information surrounding the Sindar and their beliefs regarding the rise and fall of stars. 

---

Chapter Nine: Wonder & Mystery

 

                Celebrían’s silver hair gleamed like a crown in the waning moonlight.  The sound of her pen scratching against the parchment distinctly broke the eerie silence of the night.  At a different curve of the tower top, Arvadhor and Eleñolmo Sarnhir murmured, alternating between gazing at the sky and pointing viciously at a paper.  Sarnhir spoke and moved deliberately, frowning at his student when Arvadhor disagreed.  Níveren, Sarnhir’s other apprentice, jogged up the stairs with a chart caught under his arm.

                “Gilvagor is going to murder me when he finds out,” was all Idhreniel caught him say. 

Sarnhir just laughed, and shook his head with a low response that caused the men to smirk.  The Eleñolmo would undoubtedly placate his partner.  Níveren flattened out the chart against the stone.  Immediately, Arvadhor was indicating something with his pointer finger.  Idhreniel craned her neck as nonchalantly as possible, but could not see the details of the chart. 

                “Idhreniel.”  Celebrían’s voice drew her attention away from the men. 

                Celebrían had finished adding Nendir to her chart.  Unlike any of Idhreniel’s past students, she had fleshed out the water-carrier, detailing the curve of his sweet face and vase.  Idhreniel smiled approvingly at the illustration.

                “Thank you, Celebrían.  Well done, as always,” she praised.

                “I did have a question.”  Celebrían did not immediately escape down the stairs.

                “A question?  Ask me, sweet lady,” Níveren interrupted with a confident grin.  “I’m sure my answers would be founded in fact.”

Sarnhir rubbed his nose with a sigh before reaching over to lightly smack the back of his student’s head.  Níveren turned with a frown at his teacher.  Idhreniel clasped her hands behind her back, hiding her smile as she gazed at the men.

                “If Níveren is offering, then perhaps we should see what he has to say, Celebrían,” Idhreniel said.

                “Well, it is regarding the expired stars,” Celebrían began, looking to Idhreniel.  “So, I do not think he is qualified…” 

                “Ask, and we shall see,” Idhreniel murmured. 

Arvadhor continued to study the chart Níveren had brought, but Sarnhir stood beside his student, apparently curious to hear the inquiry.

                “What is your question?  The arc patterns?  Indicators?  Stages?”  Níveren wore a self-assured smile.

                “Indicators?” Idhreniel interrupted with a frown.  “That a star is about to fall?”

The implications, for her, were terrible to consider.  

                “Yes, it is well documented,” Níveren replied.  “A star goes through several stages before it—”

                “Explodes,” Sarnhir cut in.  “They blaze into existence and leave the same way.”  He gazed at Idhreniel.  “Though, there are singularities.  The Gil-Estel inconspicuously entered the sky, but it grew to enormous size during the War of Wrath.  I suspect all of you are far too young to remember that.”

At the Eleñolmo’s quiet tone, even Arvadhor had looked away from his charts, apparently waiting for the teacher to continue.  Níveren nodded quietly, alternating his gaze between the Gil-Estel and Sarnhir. 

                “I was there,” Idhreniel murmured, looking up to the Mariner’s Star.

There was no joy in remembering those weeks.  Eärendil’s ship had circled closer and closer with each passing day.  At one point, it shone brighter and bigger than Anor.  The dragons had been nonexistent specks in the brilliance of its light.  Idhreniel remembered standing among the other women and children, watching the great star burn towards black earth.  For a second, the world went silent and grey.  Then the sky was split apart by its white radiance and the earth trembled and heaved.  It still terrified her to think of the hard ground rising and breaking as easily as waves under her feet.

                “Were you there, Sarnhir?” Arvadhor asked.

The Eleñolmo’s smile was faint.  Briefly, his gaze met Idhreniel’s.  They remembered what the scribes left out.

                “Lady Celebrían, in Níveren’s eagerness to address your inquiry, we never actually heard your question.”  Idhreniel was glad he changed the subject.

The war had been won that day, but when the sun rose, there had been no victory among the ruined earth.  Even the brilliant force of those from across the Sea was half of what it had been. 

                “I have honestly forgotten it,” Celebrían’s apologetic reply drew Idhreniel from her memories.

Celebrían’s sweetly embarrassed smile made the men laugh.

                “Well, if you remember it, I am ever at your disposal,” Níveren bowed gallantly. 

Celebrían praised his kindness before disappearing down the stairs.  Amroth would be waiting to deliver her home.  Níveren returned to Arvadhor’s side, but Sarnhir remained.  Idhreniel began to pick up the few tools to pack away in her bag. 

                “Nencolindo.”  His fingers brushed over Celebrían’s drawing.  “That is quite an artistic rendering.”

Celebrían’s chart was unlike the scholarly one Arvadhor leaned over.  The lady did not just correctly plot each star, but she brought them to life. 

                “You can still see the lines and the stars that make up his shape,” Idhreniel placed a fingertip to each star.  “And there is Aglarebiel with him.  We live in a season of good fortune.”

                “Tell me you do not subscribe to that nonsense!” he tugged his ear twice with a sigh.  “There is no evidence that the stars influence our lives and—”

                “Eleñolmo, I know that,” Idhreniel interrupted.  “I have read some of the Istyar’s theories.”

                “And?”

There was the question.  All of her life she had subscribed to the belief that the stars governed their lives.  Everything was within the sky.  The Gelydh dared to believe that each person determined their own destiny. 

                “It is not a simple answer,” she replied.

For if there was not something wholly other guiding the events within Arda, then it became a philosophical debate that she was not ready to address.

                “Good.  If the answer is easy, then the question was not worth asking.”  He patted her shoulder encouragingly.  “You must never stop searching for truth.”

                “And if the truth does not fit your theories?” Idhreniel asked.

Something flickered behind the Eleñolmo’s eyes and his lips curved in a pleased smile.

                “That is the entire point of our research: to test what we know,” Sarnhir answered.  His eyes were bright with excitement as he continued speaking.  “We are everyday at the edge of what is known and unknown.  Look at the ránelen.  Their paths have not changed, but we still cannot classify what they are.  They do not shift like the stars; they move like the sun and moon, but they are too far to be them.  We make guesses and assumptions.  We know something new each time we are wrong.”

The utter passion in his voice was mesmerizing.

                “Some things must be certain,” Idhreniel mused.  “We cannot always be searching.”

                “The One gave us the gift of this earth,” Sarnhir replied.  “Why shouldn’t we uncover all of her secrets?”

                “The wonder and mystery will be gone.”

                “Oh, Idhreniel,” Sarnhir placed a hand on her shoulder.  “I have been searching the skies since my birth in Ondolindë, and I know only a fraction more than I did then.”

                “Tell me.”  The words left her mouth unconsciously.

Sarnhir took a seat on the tower ledge, motioning to the place across from him.  Idhreniel sat aand listened as he talked until the morning swallowed up the moon. 

Her mind was still spinning when she descended the tower.  Arvadhor was waiting at the bottom for her.  His smile was brief at her quiet greeting.

                “I actually need to speak with you.”  He drew her off to the side.

                “Is everything alright?” Idhreniel gazed at him curiously.

Though she saw Arvadhor frequently, their interactions were rarely more than passing acknowledgments.  He glanced around, uncharacteristically nervous.

                “I need a favor.”  His voice became quieter.  “I’m sure you are aware that I present to the Eleñolmor next week.”

Of that, she was well aware.  It was a rare event for a scholar to be deemed prepared to join the Eleñolmor.  The entire community of elendili was talking about it.

                “Yes, I might have heard it mentioned once,” Idhreniel replied.

Arvadhor’s lips twitched with a smile.

                “Aurendis?”

                “And Berellos, Thindir, most of the meneldil,” Idhreniel finished with a nod.  “They are anticipating your presentation.  I did not know that all the elendili gather to listen.”

                “Yes, but the Eleñolmor will judge whether it is sufficient research to allow me to join them,” Arvadhor replied, his expression shifting into concern.  “I assume you know, but I intend to ask…” he paused, apparently unsure of how to continue.

                “You are going to offer silver rings to Aurendis,” Idhreniel concluded.  “You are right to assume I know.”

Aurendis had already begun planning the betrothal celebration.  Arvadhor looked decidedly relieved that he did not actually have to voice his intentions. 

                “Eddenor offered to make both sets, but I have not been able to get a moment away from my work to meet with him.” Arvadhor fished out a worn piece of parchment from his robe pocket.  “Do you think you could?”

                “Of course.”  She took the paper.  “Just tell me where I need to go.”

                Part of her was regretting accepting this task as she waited in the brightly bejeweled lobby of the Mírdain.  A black-robed man had listened to her request and disappeared down a hallway ten minutes ago.  She wasn’t sure if he intended to return.

                “Counselor Idhreniel, what a surprise.”  The voice came from behind her.

Idhreniel turned slowly, clasping her hands behind her back before addressing the person.

                “I could say the same, Counselor Istiril,” Idhreniel felt her lips twitch into a small smile.

Istiril’s skirts swept the floor as she came to stand directly in front of Idhreniel.  Her dress was red with a belt of white stones that shimmered fluidly within their casing.  Istiril’s lips pursed slightly as she assessed Idhreniel’s plain sapphire blue dress.  Its only adornment was the subtle silver stitching of stars on the sleeve hems.

                “Are you commissioning a piece?” Istiril asked.

                “I am here to see one of the smiths,” Idhreniel answered.

                “Oh?”  Istiril tossed her hair over one shoulder.  “Well, since he is not here yet, I wonder if you might spare a moment for me.”

                “How can I be of service to you?” This dance was familiar; it was easy to slip back into the skin of a counselor.

                “Tyelpo and I have been petitioning Lindon for further funds to increase—”

                “Counselor, I think you mistake my position,” Idhreniel interrupted.

The sudden gleam in Istiril’s eyes was unmistakable.

                “Your position seems clear to me,” she began.  “I’ve heard it mentioned more than once that you have the King’s ear, Lady of Forlond.”

Istiril’s tone belied the implication of the title.  Idhreniel leveled a steely stare at the woman.  Istiril maintained eye contact, unfazed by the glare.  The title and its connotations were nothing new.  When Forlond’s court gossipers grew bored, it had been easy to turn their eyes on the bachelor king and his equally unmarried chief counselor.

                “The King maintains his own judgment, Counselor.  However, I will say that it is clear to me, from past petitions I have seen from Lord Celebrimbor that the funds would not be used to produce any tangible revenue.  That is why you have been denied, and will continue to be,” Idhreniel stated matter-of-factly.

                “Our army and soldiers produce no tangible revenue, as you say, but they are granted increased monies,” Istiril argued.

                “A well-maintained force is crucial to the protection of the realm.  That is a definite benefit,” Idhreniel replied. 

                “We live in an age of peace, Counselor.  How can it be necessary to maintain such a large army and navy,” Istiril countered, tapping a finger against her lips.  “Unless, of course, the King is aware of some threat he has not revealed to his people.”

                “Are you accusing Gil-galad of withholding information?”  Idhreniel fought to keep the irritation out of her voice. 

                “Of course not,” Istiril replied quickly, her expression aptly concerned.  “It is treason to make such allegations.”

Without proof.  Those two words lingered unsaid in the air between them.  A thousand protests swept through her mind, but Idhreniel dismissed them all.  Objection would only cement this idea Istiril had. 

                “Ah, darling…”  Celebrimbor strode out from a side door, barely pausing when he noted Idhreniel. 

 “Lady Idhreniel, I understand you wished to see me.” Eddenor was two steps behind the Istyar.

                “Yes, Eddenor.  Arvadhor mentioned—” she began.

Eddenor abruptly beckoned for her to follow him.  Idhreniel took a step around Istiril, touching the lady’s elbow and leaning close to her ear.

                “I apologize, but we will have to finish this conversation later, Counselor,” Idhreniel murmured.

Istiril minutely turned her head, making eye contact with Idhreniel. 

                “Thank you for your time, Lady of Forlond,” Istiril replied, her lips spreading back in a cold smile.

Istiril’s skirts snapped briskly as she walked away with Celebrimbor.  Idhreniel did not bother to watch her go, focusing on Eddenor impatiently waiting.  He briskly led her down a narrow hall of many doors.

                “I apologize for interrupting your work,” Idhreniel said.

                “For Aurendis, it is no trouble at all,” Eddenor replied, sparing her a brief smile. 

                “Oh?  I thought you had agreed to make the rings for Arvadhor.”  Idhreniel did not hide her confusion.

                “Really the rings are for both of them, but Aurendis can be convincing at times.”  Eddenor pushed open a plain door labeled with his name. 

                It was a spacious office with a table filling most of the room.  Designs were hung on the walls, window and table; she had walked into chaos.  Eddenor shifted a few papers to the side, holding out his hand for the paper he assumed Idhreniel to have.

                “You know Aurendis well?”  Idhreniel gave it to him, and then drifted off to examine the many hanging papers.

Eddenor responded with a grunt, leaning over the designs.  Idhreniel wandered around the office in silence.  She paused in front of a specific design. 

                “Is this the device you created for Astarinyë?” she asked, glancing back at him.

                Eddenor’s head turned quickly towards her.  He straightened, glancing at the paper she referenced.

                “It is.”

                “I understand you declined Arvadhor’s proposal to create something similar for him,” Idhreniel drifted closer to the table, regarding Eddenor closely.

The smith crossed his arms over his chest, and raised a brow.

                “Indeed.  His proposition was lacking.”  Idhreniel translated the statement: the funding was insufficient.

                “How so?”  Idhreniel leaned her hip against the table.

                “If you intend to ask me to create a similar tool for you, I decline,” Eddenor replied directly.

                “I wish you would change your mind,” Idhreniel sighed.

                “Then convince me.  Otherwise, I could not possibly bother,” he challenged.  “Now, please tell Arvadhor I will have these rings finished before his presentation to the Eleñolmor.”

                “Of course, Eddenor,” Idhreniel stopped beside him, placing a hand on his arm.  “And I will return with a more convincing argument.”

He chuckled, his expression revealing his outright amusement at her words.

                “I’ll be waiting then, Lady.”  He patted her hand before pointing out the exit to her. 

Idhreniel returned the smile before leaving his office.  It seemed that a visit to Thindir was well in order.

--

                “I need your help.”

If he was surprised by her request, Thindir hid it well.  He leaned back on his heels, continuing to stare at the jumble of numbers and letters scribbled out on the slate before him.  Idhreniel remained by the door, patiently waiting for his response.

                “Busy.”

Idhreniel sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.  After a few minutes, Thindir’s head turned slightly assessing that she was, in fact, still there. 

                “Idhreniel, I am truly busy,” he said.

                “It will take only a moment,” she replied.

                “I do not have a second.”

                “You are already suitably frustrated by your work, Thindir.  Perhaps it would be helpful to pause for a moment,” Idhreniel suggested.

His chin dropped to rest against his chest, and she heard the deep breath he exhaled.  His hand rubbed the back of his neck, but he turned and motioned for her to shut the door.  Idhreniel smiled to herself; half the battle was won.

                “Truly, we do not need Eddenor.”  Hours had passed in quick conversation.

                “What do you mean?” Idhreniel replied, tearing her gaze from the slate she had been writing on.

Thindir grinned at her triumphantly.

                “This could be made by any of the smiths,” he answered.

                “What could be?”

                It startled Idhreniel to see Aulendil lounging in the doorway.  She hadn’t heard the door open.  Even more surprising was the smile creeping subtly across Thindir’s lips.  The mathematician glanced to the window, most likely to ascertain the hour.

                “I apologize, my Lord.  Idhreniel came to me with an idea, and I lost track of the time,” Thindir said apologetically.

                “No harm done there.  Tyelpo is still locked in conversation with Istiril, no doubt regarding…”  Aulendil’s gaze drifted to Idhreniel.  “May I see your plans?”

                “Please,” Idhreniel answered.

The man moved into the room gracefully, standing beside Thindir to swiftly examine their work.  Aulendil looked to Idhreniel and then Thindir with a small smile.

                “You are correct that these basic diagrams would aid any smith in creating the work,” he began.  “However, this scope would not see far enough to be of any use.”

                “Yes, it would,” Thindir immediately protested.  “The math states—”

                “Your math is theoretical, Thindir,” Aulendil interrupted.  “Applied, these equations are useless.”

Aulendil took the chalk from Thindir’s hand, scratching out part of an equation.  Idhreniel watched with interest as the two men argued in quiet murmurs.  After a few minutes, she realized the reason she could not follow their conversation was that they had ceased to speak in Thindren.  The music in their words did not entirely sound like the Golodhren she usually heard.  She cleared her throat quietly. 

                “Ah, Lady Idhreniel, forgive us,” Aulendil motioned her closer and launched into an explanation.

Even Thindir’s brilliant mind seemed dull beside Aulendil.

                “The two of you have quite a bit of work to finalize these plans,” Aulendil finished.

                “It would seem so,” Idhreniel replied.  “Thank you for your counsel.”

                “I am ever at your service,” Aulendil said.  “When you have completed these plans, bring them to me.  I can instruct one of my apprentices to create it.”

                “Thank you, my lord.  You are too kind.”  Idhreniel’s reply was heartfelt. 

That caused Aulendil to pause.  His gaze drilled into her for a brief moment before it lightened.  He bowed his head with a small smile.

                “Now, Thindir, I believe we are late,” he reminded.

They exited into the bright sunlight together, Aulendil a few paces ahead.

                “I did not know you were on such close terms with Istyar Aulendil,” Idhreniel murmured.

                “There are many things you don’t know about me,” Thindir replied with a faint smile.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, squeezing her shoulder in a silent farewell before walking away to join Aulendil.  Idhreniel watched them go, mulling over his words.  Her feet unconsciously followed the streets down to the Commander’s home.  Aurendis met Idhreniel at the gate with a knowing smile.

                “You look exhausted.”  She kissed Idhreniel’s cheek in greeting.  “Did Celebrían keep you this entire time?”

                “I have business of my own, Aurendis,” Idhreniel replied with a laugh.

                “I suspect it will have to wait.”  Aurendis lowered her voice.  “Atar is waiting for you.  He is in a particularly pleasant mood.”

                “Does his mood have anything to do with a certain financial advisor?” Idhreniel asked, offering Erestor a brief smile as he joined them.

                “At one time, I thought only Erestor could get Atar so enraged,” Aurendis answered, glancing at her brother.

                “I’m rather disappointed I can no longer claim that singularity.”  Erestor sighed.  “However, I would urge you to hurry inside, Idhreniel.  From experience, I can assert that his mood will only worsen with time.”

                “Thank you for the advice.”  Idhreniel pressed a quick farewell kiss to each of the siblings’ cheeks before moving through the garden and into the home.

                Idhreniel walked through the silent hallways to Sorniswë’s office.  She entered without knocking, assuming he had heard her steps.  He stared at her from behind his desk.

                “Aurendis said you were waiting for me.” Idhreniel clasped her hands behind her, politely waiting for an invitation to sit.

Sorniswë sat still for a few more moments before gesturing for her to sit with a brisk sweep of his hand. 

                “I am in need of a counselor, Lady Idhreniel.”  Straight to the point then.

Idhreniel briefly looked at her hands before returning her gaze to him. 

                “Are you asking me to find you one or to be the one?” she returned.

The idea of having some sort of duty to fill the quiet daytime hours was not a disagreeable one.

                “Lord Celeborn highly recommends you from his dealings in Harlond,” Sorniswë replied, looking uncomfortable as he continued.  “I would like someone of your experience to…” he unwillingly stated the final words “…aid me.”

She did not contemplate the offer long.

                “During the winter months, I can be fully in your councils and at your service, but—”

                “Yes, yes, Celebrían’s tutoring,” Sorniswë interrupted as he stood.  “Shall we then?  I’d like to introduce you to my other staff before we are needed in Galadriel’s office.”

Part of her protested being delayed the relief of sleep.  Yet, she readily followed Sorniswë out of the house and down the street.  They marched side-by-side in silence.  At the door of his offices, he placed a hand on her elbow, halting her steps.  She met his gaze curiously, arching a brow questioningly.

“Astarinyë would tell me that I should thank you.”  His jaw was tight as he said the words.

“But Commander, you are not known for your kindness, or manners,” Idhreniel reminded with a small smile.

A smile twitched the edges of Sorniswë’s lips.  He squeezed her elbow and ushered her into his realm.

 

---

Chapter End Notes

--

Characters/Notes:

Celebrían: Artist; daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn; sister to Amroth.

Arvadhor: Noldor; one of the elendili of the City.

Sarnhir: Noldor; member of the elendili, Eleñolmo.

Níveren: Noldor; member of the elendili.

Gilvagor: Noldor; member of the elendili, keeper of the library.

Nendir (S), Nencolindo (Q): “Water man/ water bearer”, corresponds to Aquarius.

Aglarebiel (S), Alcarinquë(Q): “The Glorious One”; said to be the brightest object in the sky before the rising of the moon; corresponds to our Jupiter.

Eleñolmo/Eleñolmor: Quenya masculine singular/plural, “star-wise person”; specific title for certain elendili who have reached the highest level of academia. (Credit goes to Pandemonium_213.)

Ránelen (Q): “Wandering Star”; general name for planets or other bodies that orbit in the sky.

Aurendis: Noldor; eldest child/daughter of Sorniswë and Astarinyë; First Gardner of the City.

Thindir: Noldor; member of the Otornassë Meneliva, mathematician.

Eddenor: Noldor; Journeyman smith; member of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain; brother to Mirthor.

Istiril: Noldor; Treasurer-in-chief of Ost-in-Edhil.

Tyelperinquar: Celebrimbor, Tyelpo; Istyar and chief of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain; grandson of Fëanor.

Aulendil: Annatar; Maiar; Istyar and current guest of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain.