The Swan's Song by Kimberleighe

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Chapter 10

It has been quite awhile since I updated, but here is the next installment.  As always, notes/characters are at the bottom.

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Chapter Ten: Dreams & Lectures

 

                Idhreniel walked beside Sorniswë through the Lady’s halls.  His left hand rested on the sword belted at his waist.  He looked ready for battle, missing only his breastplate and helmet.  Even his expression was grim and fierce. 

                “Ready?” he murmured, pausing before the office doors.

                “I have some experience in council meetings, Commander,” she replied with a brisk nod.

Sorniswë pushed open the doors, motioning for her to enter first.  Idhreniel squared her shoulders and walked into the large council room.  The leaders of each guild were circled in quiet conversation, no doubt locked in compromises and concessions.  She let her gaze drift over each, pausing briefly to allow the Commander to lead their approach.  Tinuthel greeted her warmly with an embrace.  Behind him, Rúthol, one of his counselors, offered her a brief smile.

                “And what brings you to this tedious meeting?” Tinuthel rasped.

The Commander had already moved on, standing beside Galadriel. 

                “The Commander requested it,” Idhreniel answered simply. 

Tinuthel raised a brow, but only nodded.  He slipped past her when his name was called.  Rúthol placed a hand on her arm when she began to move away. 

                “Are you aware that many years ago, Counselor Istiril made mention of an idea to maximize the monies from Lindon?”  Rúthol said quietly.  Idhreniel turned her head nonchalantly to locate the lady as the counselor continued speaking.  “Her idea was to combine several of the guilds.”

                “How interesting,” Idhreniel mused.  “Yet, that was many years ago.”

Rúthol clasped his hands behind his back, looking down at the floor between them.

                “I know you lack familiarity with our City, but I thought you were an experienced counselor,” he returned, his gaze flitting to her briefly.

Idhreniel’s lips tightened into a thin smile.  She shifted closer to the counselor.

                “Propositions are created and abandoned all the time,” she said.

                “And yet, she’s invited both Lords Nelhil and Seregethir to dinner recently,” Rúthol replied.  “And Lord Celebrimbor is courting Nardil and Tinuthel’s favor.”

Idhreniel noticed Istiril’s familiar hand on Seregethir’s arm with a frown.  How could she have missed this? 

                “And why are you telling me this?” she asked before realization struck.  “What is it the Istyar wants?”

Rúthol just patted her shoulder, turning his gaze towards his lord.

                “I am not privy to all of my Lord’s thoughts,” he answered. 

Idhreniel’s gaze drifted to Tinuthel.  The Istyar merely inclined his head, apparently aware of what his counselor was discussing.

                “I see,” Idhreniel murmured.

It seemed she was in the position of having to again fill favors, though she had been indebted to far more exasperating men.  At the Commander’s brisk gesture, she parted company with the counselor and joined Sorniswë. 

                “And what did Tinuthel’s counselor want?” Sorniwë muttered.

Idhreniel settled in the chair beside him, offering a small smile to Astarinyë as she settled in on her husband’s other side.

                “He gave us a friendly warning,” she answered.

Sorniswë’s expression grew even grimmer.

                “And what does the Istyar want?” he asked quickly.

By the tilt of his head, Idhreniel knew he was gazing at the Istyar. 

                “That remains to be seen.”

Sorniswë continued to stare at Tinuthel for a few moments more before glancing at Idhreniel.

                “You’ll inform me of his demands,” he stated.

Idhreniel hid her smile quickly at Sorniswë’s tone.  His political dealings always seemed to resemble parley negotiations.

                “Of course, Commander.”

The Commander opened his mouth to speak, but Galadriel’s authoritative tone brought the meeting to order. 

                It was a relatively standard meeting that ended well before the dinner hour.  The Commander disappeared into a private office with Galadriel.  Idhreniel collected her thick cloak at the door.  A hand touched her shoulder; Celeborn stood quietly.

                “A word?”

Idhreniel fastened her cloak around her shoulders, seeing his warm dress.  She fell into step beside him.  They wandered out into the gardens, the foliage snow tipped and bare. 

                “First, this came for you through our letters.”  He slid an envelope into her hand.

Only her name was scrawled across the front, but they both knew who the sender was.  She hid it away in the pocket of her dress.

                “Thank you,” she replied.

                “You might mention that your post can be directed to the Commander’s home.”  The suggestion was paired with a kind and knowing smile.

                “Yes, I should,” she agreed.

                “And how have Celebrían’s studies progressed so far?” he asked, his words fogging between them.

                “We have paused with the onset of winter, but she was showing a remarkable aptitude for her charts,” Idhreniel answered.  “Though, her focus has much to be desired of.”

                “Ah,” Celeborn smiled.  “So you have noticed.”

                “She is young,” Idhreniel replied.

They walked a few steps in silence.

                “I worry for her,” Celeborn said quietly.  His boot toed the hard ground.  “Amroth knew his love for trees before he could speak.  Yet she flits from subject to subject.  However, I did not bring you here to discuss my daughter.”

                “Good, I have no experience raising children,” Idhreniel returned. “How may I be of service?”

                They faced each other now in the middle of the garden.  They could see all around, no chance of eavesdroppers.  They were a pair of silver shadows against the white ground.

                “I have no right to ask this of you,” Celeborn began.  His gaze remained intent on her face.  “My dreams have been troubled of late.  This City-” he motioned to it, to the tower “-she is torn.”

                “Yes, sides are being drawn,” Idhreniel agreed.  “But what would you have me do?  I have no power here.”

                “Precisely,” Celeborn replied.  “They overlook you in their pride.  Have you not noticed?”

Truthfully, she had assumed it was her sex, not ethnicity that they looked down upon. 

                “Again, my lord, what would you have me do?” she repeated.

He stepped closer, placing a hand on her arm.

                “Keep your eyes open.  You are better situated to see the divides,” he answered.  “With all her foresight, my wife is blind when it concerns her City.”

                “What do you fear?” Idhreniel asked.

Celeborn gazed at her grimly. 

                “My dreams.”

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                The morning was quiet and shrouded in clouds.  Idhreniel pulled her thick cloak tight around her as she sat on the rooftop of the Commander’s home.  There was no wind, but the cold still cut to the bone.  Yet, here on the roof was the only place of solitude she seemed to be afforded.  If she went to her room, Sorniswë was sure to order her attention.  If she went to the library, she would be lost in the tomes for hours.  No, there was a letter to return.  She turned the paper over in her hands before finally ripping it open.  A small smile played along the edges of her lips as her eyes flew over the familiar script. 

                “Letter from home?”  Ríhedil set a steaming cup on the small table beside Idhreniel.

Idhreniel only nodded, fighting the urge to hide the words away from Ríhedil’s eyes.  The other woman sat on one of the chairs, nestling a matching steaming mug in her own hands.  Once it was clear she did not intend to further the conversation, Idhreniel resumed her reading.  Forlond waits impatiently for your return, was how he ended the letter forgoing any signature. 

                “Your lover?” Her tone was nonchalant, but Ríhedil’s gaze was sharp on Idhreniel’s face. 

                “Why do you say that?”  Idhreniel responded.

She focused on re-folding the letter, creasing the edges along the same ones its sender had made.  It gave her a moment to ensure her expression was carefully composed when she looked to the other woman.

                “I have seen that look many times on a young lady’s face,” Ríhedil replied, sipping at her drink.

Idhreniel put aside the letter reluctantly.  She picked up her cup, no longer steaming, but still warm, and offered a simple, small smile.

                “I am no young lady,” Idhreniel countered.

Ríhedil laughed quietly to herself, nodding in agreement.

                “Well, it makes no difference and certainly is none of my business.  I am glad to see a smile on your face.  The Commander’s gloom can be contagious,” Ríhedil said, looking to the sun fighting its way through the clouds.

                “Indeed it can.”  Idhreniel shared a knowing smile with the lady.

They collected their cups and descended into the home.  Idhreniel sat at her desk, pulling a single sheet of parchment free to set in front of her.  She uncapped the ink, tapping her pen against the edge as she gathered her thoughts.  What to say…

I was glad to receive your letter.  I cannot seem to recall the last time you personally penned correspondence. 

She paused only a moment before beginning her description of the City, painting it in words so when he read it, he could imagine himself beside her.  She told him of the great gates that honored the Trees and proclaimed the greatness of his people.  Then of the Marketplace and all the memories of their youth spent running through similar stalls.  She had always loved running with him.  No one bothered to stop them. 

                “Counselor.”  The interruption came in the form of Belechir.  He remained stiff in her doorway.  “You have a visitor.”

                “I shall be out there momentarily,” Idhreniel replied.

She placed the pen aside, leaving the letter to dry on her desk as she changed her dress.  She had found it necessary to procure different attire to match the icy winter.  Idhreniel exited out into the sitting room and found Thindir waiting for her.

                “The lecture!” she exclaimed, a hand flying to her forehead. 

Arvadhor was scheduled to present his research findings.  Istyar Tinuthel had allowed her a seat to listen. 

                “You forgot?  Aurendis would rip you apart for such an oversight,” Thindir said as she fastened her cloak.

                They made haste through the chilly streets without another word.  Workers scraped their shovels against the stone road as they cleared it.  Piles of snow edged the walkway and crunched under their boots.  They entered the Halls of Learning along with a few other elendili.  The warmth felt like a hot splash to the face after their freezing trek.

                “Idhreniel, you are a surprise,” Berellos stated, stamping the snow off his feet before hanging his cloak to dry.

Idhreniel offered the meteorologist a brief smile.  She had expected at least one person to remark at her presence.  The expectation did nothing to settle her stomach. 

                “Am I?” she asked, feigning an appropriate amount of surprise.

                “Indeed, the Istyar is slow to allow any outside of our brotherhood to view our research,” Berellos responded.

Thindir cleared his throat sending a pointed frown at Berellos.  The man moved away, waving at another and overeager to begin a new conversation.

                “I do not need protecting, Thindir,” Idhreniel said quietly, matching his slow pace down the hall.

The mathematician glanced down at her.

                “I did not protect you, but myself.  I had no wish to listen to his idiocy,” Thindir replied briskly.  “Have you ever been stuck in conversation with him?  He always talks about the weather.”

                “It is his area of expertise,” Idhreniel pointed out.

Thindir just snorted.  Idhreniel couldn’t help her laugh.

                Her laughter ushered them into the main theatre.  Idhreniel paused, her eyes drawn from the plush benches stacked high in a semi-circle to the ceiling painted with a perfect rendering of the summer night sky.  Already over half of the hall was filled, men anxiously murmuring amongst themselves.  They were all young students of the stars.  They had completed the introductory courses necessary for entrance into the Brotherhood, but they had not yet ventured any futher.  Arvadhor stood at the front, nervously shifting as Sarnhir spoke with him.  Thindir took Idhreniel’s elbow, guiding her to a seat close to the front. 

                “The Eleñolmor will sit there,” Thindir pointed to five chairs in the front with a long table set before them.  “They will hear his findings and give their judgment later.  Sarnhir knows the subject, but even he has not read the final paper.”

                “I heard it was a ten year apprenticeship?” Idhreniel allowed the nervous excitement of the room to seep under her skin. 

                “Yes, most of us take 2 or 3 cycles of an apprenticeship to fully understand our subject. “ Thindir’s fingers drummed against his leg.  “Very few dare to present after only one, but Arvadhor is incredibly intelligent.”

                “And you?” Idhreniel glanced at him. “How long have you been working?”

                “Ages,” Thindir laughed wryly at his cryptic response.  “Soon, I suspect I will request an audience like this.  Perhaps after we have finished our scope.  Did I tell you?  Lord Aulendil has promised that he will personally see to its making.”

                “Will he?” Idhreniel knew her surprise was plain.  “He must mean his apprentices.”

Thindir shrugged, but looked unconvinced.  Idhreniel could not help but wonder if there was an unseen price to his aid.  No aid from a lord had ever come to her for free.

                “Counselor,” Tinuthel’s rasp drew her attention.  “I am glad you accepted my invitation.”

                “I was honored to be included, Istyar,” Idhreniel replied truthfully.  “Thindir was just explaining the basics of this occasion to me.”

                “Good, I hope you enjoy the lecture.”  The Istyar moved on to his seat, pausing only to speak to a few other students.

                Sarnhir raised his hands from his place at the center of the room.  A hush fell over the men, and all straightened in anticipation in their seats.  Idhreniel even leaned forward, capturing every moment to set to memory.

                “Good morning, brothers of the Otornassë Meneliva.  We are gathered here because one of our number seeks to share his research with us for validation.  A copy of his findings will presently be available in the library.  A few reminders before we begin.  First, all inquiries must wait until the speaker is finished.  Second, since the speaker is also seeking to attain master status, the Eleñolmor will conduct a private investigation of the research directly after this lecture.  Now, Arvadhor.”  Sarnhir turned to allow his pupil a place beside him.  The Eleñolmo placed a hand on Arvadhor’s shoulder.  “The floor is yours.”

                Arvadhor watched Sarnhir take his seat in the front beside Tinuthel.  Then he turned his eyes to the silent crowd.  The anticipation was palpable in the room.  Idhreniel even found herself sitting forward in order to catch every syllable.  It was a straightforward statement: The proximity of the celestial bodies was determined by the placement of the viewer.  Many had stated thus before, but he was determined to prove it using mathematical equations.  In this way, he could accurately predict the movement of the sun, moon, stars, and planets.  His words were punctuated with the scratch of chalk against a board.  The math swam in front of her eyes, but Idhreniel prided herself on following the bare basics of his physics.  It was exhilarating; her mind raced at the ideas of orbits and axial tilts.  Yet, another part of her mind cautioned her to pause.  With every word, he tore apart the magic of her stars.  Or did he?  She needed to critically assess, but now was not the time.  She wanted to hear his argument in full.  Thindir’s movement beside her caught her eye.  He rubbed his hand over his frown, and then left it there as if physically stifling his disagreement.  Idhreniel was used to the gesture and suddenly pitied Arvadhor.  His math had to be erroneous.  Thindir would rip it apart in the end.

                When the chance for questions came, Idhreniel waited, but Thindir made no effort to speak against Arvadhor. Instead, she listened to the younger elendili tout their inexperience as they sought to disprove his theories.  Arvadhor answered them impatiently.  Finally, Tinuthel rose.

                “Thank you for your attendance.  We will speak with our student alone now,” he rasped.  “Also, after these questions, I must urge the young scholars to immediately return to the library to refresh their knowledge of Hísanúldon.  There will be a test for those in my classes.”

A murmur ran through the young scholars.  Idhreniel couldn’t help her smile at their sudden fretting. 

                “He’ll remain for the Eleñolmor to pose questions and scrutinize his work,” Thindir said softly, rising to his feet.

Idhreniel lifted her hand in a small wave to Arvadhor.  He acknowledged it with a small nod.  She fervently wished for his petition to pass through the Eleñolmor with ease.  His research had seemed well-founded to her. 

                “Well, speak to me,” Thindir clasped his hands in front of him, looking at her expectantly.  “Your first lecture among the elendili.  Did you follow his reasoning?”

                “I do cherish how you treat me like an imbecile at times,” Idhreniel laughed.  “I did manage to follow his logic.”

Thindir looked partially slighted before it dissolved into a sheepish chuckle.  Idhreniel looped her arm through his easily as they walked slowly through the courtyard of the Otornassë Meneliva. 

                “I was surprised by the amount of scholars,” Idhreniel continued.  “I did not know you numbered so many, and no ladies.”

                “Yes, the Eleñolmor and their apprentices dedicate time to teaching some introductory courses to the young elves who have not yet chosen their course of study.  The ones invited must have shown some sort of inclination towards the stars,” Thindir replied.

                “And are only males recruited?” Idhreniel asked.

                “I do not know,” Thindir answered.  “But I do know the study of stars is a lonely one.”

                “How tragic,” Idhreniel murmured.  “You study the stars and their science in secluded corners.”

                “The science, what did you think of Arvadhor’s argument?” Thindir led them to a bench close to the halls of learning. 

They would be sure to see Arvadhor leave.  Idhreniel settled down on the bench, drawing her hands into the warm pockets of her dress.  She took a few moments to carefully contemplate her questions.

                “It seemed valid and common sense,” she answered.  “However, I think it was the math that was the genius of his research, am I correct?”

                “Indeed,” Thindir nodded.  “He has put our knowledge into the language of numbers.  A great accomplishment!”

It took only a basic question for Thindir to continue his explanation, elucidating the areas she had not understood completely.

                “You are much farther into our theories than I thought.” There was a hint of approval in his tone. 

                “You are surprised.”

                “Yes, the Sindar are not known for their acceptance of our ways,” Thindir replied.  “They remain outside the gates.  Their children do not even learn at the same schools.”

                “Distrust outlives us all.  It is hard for us to practice acceptance when you assume we must assimilate to your ways,” Idhreniel returned. 

That seemed to catch Thindir off guard.  She could see the thoughts spinning in his mind. 

                “Tell me, quickly, has anything happened?” Aurendis’ sudden arrival jerked them from their discussion.  She settled close to Idhreniel, their shoulders touching as she continued speaking.  “I cannot believe today of all days, I am late.”

                “Nothing has happened, which is a good sign,” Thindir answered reassuringly.

                “Good?” Aurendis’ hands clenched together in her lap.  “How can nothing be good?”

Idhreniel took one of the lady’s hands in hers with a calm smile.  Thindir made no effort to respond, instead looking towards the gates.

                “Are all the preparations finished?” Idhreniel asked.

Aurendis had planned a celebration in Arvadhor’s honor.  She had chartered his favorite restaurant for the evening and invited their closest friends. 

                “Yes,” Aurendis began. 

She rose without another word, obviously spying the thin form of her love.  Idhreniel stood, watching her rush to his side.  Aurendis reached out a hand to touch Arvadhor’s shoulder with her question.  Idhreniel held her breath, waiting for his response.  A broad smile crossed Arvadhor’s face in his answer.  Aurendis’ laughter flew along the courtyard. 

                “Let the celebration begin,” Thindir remarked.

Idhreniel could not agree with him more.

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Chapter End Notes

Characters/Notes:

Sorniswë: Exile; Commander of the soldiers of Ost-in-Edhil; husband to Astarinyë; father to Aurendis and Erestor.

Tinuthel: Noldor; Istyar; Chief for the Guild of the Sky; Current leader of the Otornassë Meneliva.

Rúthol: Noldor; counselor to Tinuthel.

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

Nelhíl: Noldor; Chief of the Carpenters.

Seregethir: Chief of the Guild of the Earth

Nardil: Noldor; Chief of the Guild of Stone

Astarinyë: Exile; Chief Physician of Ost-in-Edhil; wife of Sorniswë; mother to Aurendis and Erestor

Ríhedil: Sindar; cook/attendant in Sorniswë’s employ; wife to Belechir.

Belechir: Sindar; attendant in Sorniswë’s employ; husband to Ríhedil.

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

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

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

Berellos: Noldor; meteorologist

Sarnhir: Noldor; member of the elendili, Eleñolmo. Husband of Gilvagor

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

Istyar: Quenya, “learned man”.  This title is assumed only by the brightest and most accomplished of the guild.  Most guild leaders can utilize this title, though some guilds have specialized honorifics for their masters.  (The idea for this is taken with permission from Pandemonium_213’s stories, most notably The Apprentice.)

Elendili: Quenya, “lover or student of the stars”; utilized as a class name for those who have moved beyond a fascination with the stars and study astronomical lore. (Credit to Pandemonium_213 for the actual form.)

Eleñolmo/Eleñolmor: Quenya masculine singular/plural, “star-wise person”; specific title for certain elendili who have reached the highest level of academia. (Again, credit goes to Pandemonium_213 for steering me far, far away from my pitiful attempts.)

Otornassë Meneliva: also referred to as the Brotherhood of the Heavens; a collaboration of the masters and their brightest students to ensure shared knowledge and cooperation among the different disciplines within the Guild of the Sky.

Hísanúldon: Noldor; Eleñolmo of Gondolin; presumed deceased