The Wedding of Hador and Gildis. 2. by hennethgalad

Chapter 2

Read Chapter 2

Barad Eithel.
This 414th Year of the Sun
Midsummer

 

   Father has suggested writing my thoughts in this book. It is almost amusing. I, who have striven so to conceal my thought from these all-seeing Elves, should write them down, where anyone may read them ? Absurd. But still, it is an important day, to me, and to Gildis. I am so thankful that she will marry me ! It is strange, for I do not feel that my life can properly begin until we are wed. It may be that, wherever we live, it will be home to me as long as she is there.
   And I may want to go home. To be with her, to have a home of my, of our own. I think I have been too long among the Elves. The abyss of time chills the bones, slowly. I feel it more and more. They take it for granted, it is how things are, to them. To live forever ! What a gift ! But what a curse !
   They do not sleep. They never rest. They live ever in that cold cold wind, howling through the emptiness of the sky, brushing the stars into sparkling streams, and scouring cities and mountains from the face of the earth. And they sing ! Perhaps they sing as lost children sing, to keep their spirits up. Poor Maedhros. What an awful tale it is. His eyes ! I was shocked, and abashed by my fascination, not with the injury to his hand, but with the scouring of his spirit; which nevertheless roared at me, at the world, in those ferocious eyes.

   Married ! This very night ! I am as nervous as... as a groom before his wedding, I suppose, for what experience could compare ? I wonder if all the ceremony and ritual is to distract us from the enormity of what we do. It has not succeeded, I know what we are doing, and my guts are roiling like snakes. They smile at me, these Elves, seeing my thought, my... my fear... But I am learning, I can conceal my thought at times ! Well, perhaps not conceal, but merely by being intent upon my goblet, my sword, or the song, I may clear my mind at times, and offer no purchase for the grasping hands of their thought.

   But oh, it is wearying, and the mind is stubborn.

   There may be thoughts that we must have, that grow within us, as the crops grow hidden, and disturb the soil with their thrusting roots. And so I lie often awake, having the thoughts that I must have, when I should be at rest. Our people say of the Elves that they live in a dream, which I always thought absurd, since Elves are the most practical, most awake people it is possible to imagine. They never sleep. But do they ever awaken ? The intensity of their thought means that all that they do is done so well. But they do not daydream, or think of other things as they work, they give all their thought to the task in hand. Then, at night, when we would sleep, they have their daydreams, and order their thoughts, perhaps as deliberately as they do all else.
   But it is in this, I think, that we are most different from them. Time is only quantity. If they were like us in all but age, that would be one thing. But it is not so, for their experience of the world is other than ours, it is different, their life is of a different kind to ours, they have different qualities.

   Oh, I do not know ! I have lived among them for seven years, and I know a few of them, faintly. If that. How can we know them ? They saw the Moon rise, for the first time. The world without the Moon, it is unimaginable, but so simple to know what it would be like.  Whereas the truth of the Elven heart is beyond all hope of understanding.

   Thank the Valar, I am wedding a Mortal, and one who has lived among the Eldar, and understands, well, how very difficult it is to be among them for long. They change us, their songs are more than music, more than singing as we would know it. Their songs have power, and whether they cannot or will not, no explanation of this power has been given. Gildis and I have both asked, and searched the libraries, and listened to all who would speak of such things. But no.
   Írimë says that one who is blind may ask how it is possible to see, and you, who can see without effort, could offer no answer.
   But, that indeed is no answer. I feel as a child, who has been told 'when you grow up.', but we are Mortal. We shall not grow up. We shall perish.

   Well, but that is why we wed, that our children may live on, bearing a little of us, a line in a song, if we are lucky, and a pair of grey eyes like my Gildis. Though, haha, my hair is better ! I am so relieved that I am to marry Gildis. She is so sensible, so wise, so kind, and so lovely ! And her voice ! I hope it may be as the Eldar sing, that Eru had in mind the whole of Arda, when first he sang, and that it is true that he heeded the snowflake, and the frost. I hope it is as they say, and Gildis and I were meant to find each other.
   But then I remember the eyes of Maedhros and I wonder what monster could have planned such a fate for him. And the snowflake...
   And my mother. I wish she could have come. But father says that the wasting sickness has hollowed her out, she could not have come had we held the feast at home. She must stay in her bed now until... Well, we shall be there, when we have joined together, I shall take my wife to my mother, before...
   I wish I were not so offended by the injustice of it, of death, of disease. Why has Eru cursed us so ? Were we troublesome spirits to him, before the shaping of the world ? Does he seek vengeance, upon us, here ? But the idea is absurd, my mother could do no harm ! She loves the garden, she is of the order of Yavanna, if she is, if we are, spirits immortal, as some say. Father speaks of cutting a door in her room, that she may see her garden, which Maren tends now. She cannot be moved. It breaks my heart, but father is wise, and she will rest peacefully knowing that I am wed, and to such a one as Gildis. Gildis the bard ! Mine ! Truly, Eru has been kind to me, at least...

   But I feel so sick. It will pass, there is nothing to fear. Gildis will be there. Ha, what a fool I am, that is the very point and purpose of the ceremony, to be there for each other. Now and always. Dear Gildis, without her I should have drowned in Barad Eithel. I have come to think of the Elves as the waters of the lake. They will invite you in, the clear shallow water is safe, and in summer, even warm. But swim a little way from the shore and the coldness, and the dark depths below will freeze the marrow in your bones.

   What can we know of them ? What do they know of each other, who have all the time in the world to find out ? While we struggle to know ourselves...

   They get you. The music... I am so glad that she is a bard, and, moreover, one respected by the Elves. Of course, she denies any wisdom concerning the power of Elven song, but I think that she must know things, if she could but put them into words. I shall listen carefully; it may be that she does not realise what she knows, or has not paused to consider it.
   In truth, she works far harder than I, and at a far more difficult task. Singing with the Elves ! It sounds pleasant, until you know what is involved ! While I, like her hound, or her horse, sweat in the field, practicing the sword and the spear, firing arrows until I dream of the target at night, and scarcely thinking beyond what the next meal may bring. I have been remiss in my studies, we have been away so long...
   Fortunate Gildis, all her thoughts dwell on music. But I... I must study Mortals, not Elves, if I am to follow grandfather, and father, in guiding our people. What am I to do ? I am certain that we have much to learn from the Eldar, but what of the power they wield over us, over all that lives ? They will change us, in ways we cannot imagine, oh, I do not know. I suppose that a little learning, a little understanding, will help, will help us to know the Elves, and help the Elves to know us. Thus shall friendship be maintained between our peoples. But do I have the wisdom to know when I have learned enough ? What if it is too late, and I have fallen under their spell, and do not yet know it ?

   But these are thoughts for another time. My wedding. After a year of pleasant, nay, eager anticipation, it has come upon me so suddenly that I am close to panic, yet I cannot say why. I feel that there are so many things that I ought to have done, that the moment will come, and I will bolt in blind terror, like a truant child who has neglected his lessons. But of course I have not ! Oh yes, the Elves have lessons even for marriages, though not for the afterwards, as it were. Or if they do, they have not spoken of it to me ! We have rehearsed the festivities as they would a dance. Perhaps it is a dance, as some birds dance, when spring has come. I think it will be very beautiful. There are garlands all the way from the Hill of Manwë to the Hall of Fire, I have never seen so many flowers. And lanterns ! Chest after chest they brought up through the endless corridors of the cellar, each full of those exquisite silver lanterns, that cast such lovely shadows as they burn. The sky is clear, the crescent moon rises late, it will be so beautiful. They have allowed us to marry in the Mortal fashion, though insisted that they also sing the Wedding Song, since it has been so long since last they sang it. Not even Malach married here. They have not practiced the song, they say it is not a thing they could forget, supposing they ever forgot anything at all. Really, at times, I am aware of their full strangeness, and I shiver...

   But they have given me a magnificent robe, absurdly embroidered with strange flickers of silver, part flame, part rays of sunlight, it cannot be told. But so much silver ! On a robe ! It will be stiff and heavy. I must rest before nightfall, it would not do to be weary tonight !

   I cannot reveal my heart in this book ! My heart belongs to Gildis now, my thoughts are for her to share, not these pages. But it may be that there are things that she would not wish to share, troubles that need not burden her thought, but that I may confront, with the feather as my guide, posing the questions that I have not found the words with which to ask. I will say nothing of our love, it is what it is, and we are happy.
   We might have a child. A year from now I might be a father. The very idea stuns me, I feel scarcely older than I was when I left home, here in the timeless world of the Elves. I hope that I have not fallen behind, neglecting the duties of my father’s son, of my mother’s... Oh that she could live to see our child ! But none will give me even the hope. Indeed, she looked so frail when last I saw her that I cannot doubt their sadness. This happiest of days will be shadowed by her absence. As all the North lies under shadow. So say the Elves...

   They get you, with their songs, creeping like smoke into your thought; they skip past, blythe and singing, and you are changed, and can never forget what you have heard, what you have seen. There is no shadow ! The sun is hot in the clear sky, the silver roof shines, the silver pillars waver in the heat, the Elves sing nearby, and all is well.

   But how can we dispute them when they speak of that which is beyond our sight, beyond our understanding ?

   Indeed I am torn, torn between my people and the Eldar, as Gildis is torn. But together, we may find peace, and if not in either world, then we shall make a new world, neither Eldar nor Edain, but something between, where song is more important than at present to Mortals, but never as all-consuming as with Elves. Oh, I may dream, today of all days. But as Írimë pointed out, Eru put both our peoples in the world at the same time. We were meant to meet. The Valar may have wished to keep us apart, but they were thwarted by the will of the Avari.
   If only I could imagine what they might learn from us ! I can think of nothing... I wonder... I wonder if that is to be my purpose, to inspire and encourage our people to some feat, or skill, or insight of wisdom, that will at last make the Elves look seriously upon us, and hear our words. And if I cannot do it, Gildis shall try, and if neither of us achieve aught for all our labour, we shall teach our children, that one day, the Eldar will know the Edain for brothers in truth.

   The sunlight has reached my spears on the wall. How marvellous they look, dazzling in the sunset, the golden points burn like living flame. They are so beautiful. Of course I had to have their image on my shield. My own Elven colours ! But in truth, I am the child with the wooden sword, in a tiny helmet, piping alongside the warriors.
   Yes, they are singing the Song of the Setting Sun. Soon it will be time to bathe, and dress in that robe, that glittering robe, weighty as armour, and try to hold my head up and walk straight without stumbling like a fool and upsetting Gildis. Ha ! Nothing upsets Gildis ! Oh, I am so fortunate ! Who could find a better wife than my lovely bard ? Írimë says that marriage goes best when the families are friends. Well, I truly warmed to her father, and am in awe of her mother. I think, I hope, that one day I shall come to understand her mother, and herself ! But what a pleasant task to be set !

   Fingolfin is coming, with gifts. More gifts ! What can we offer to them ? They want for nothing; it would be absurd to bring them treasures, like throwing a torch on a forest fire. I hope, I suppose, that Gildis and I may write a song that they would sing, or at least, listen to. If only for the amusement of novelty. But then, they get you. Their music shapes our very thoughts. Gildis freely admits that any tune she may compose will be influenced by that which she has heard from the Elves.

   Oh Eru ! Why did I choose to wed here, in the chief city of the Elves ? Will it seem less real, to be wed in such a place ? Something dreamed, rather than lived ? Will we believe that we are truly united ? Truly one ?
   I hear footsteps on the stairs, and Fingolfin laughing with someone. He will rebuke me for not being dressed, but my mind is a storm and I must write some of these thoughts down, or I shall speak them aloud and embarrass my family, or my wife.
   It is upon me. The moment is here. Henceforth, the moment will be upon us, for I shall be part of a larger whole. I hope that I shall not shame her, or disappoint her or ever cause her to regret joining me. I hope that we may be happy.

   Fingolfin is here, he is laughing still. The time has come.