Hewers of wood and drawers of water. by hennethgalad

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 1

 

 

 

  

  They call me Ingor, since I have climbed every mountain that can be climbed by those of us trapped in our flesh. No elf shall ever reach the summit of Oiolossë, nor scale the cliffs of the Pelori. We can but dream.
  Besides that I am insignificant, neither clever nor strong, not tall, not wise, not much of a singer... But my skill at climbing serves me well in my work, for I am skilled, though not exceptionally so, at fixing things.
   I was in Mindon Eldaliéva working on the water one day. It is a long climb, the little door is above the cornices, and the hand and foot holds are the smallest of any building. Indeed, most elves do not know they are there at all, for from below the wall appears smooth as glass. The vast hall was deserted save for young Nerdanel, daughter of Mahtan the smith. She was painting when I walked in, easel set below the great stair, her back to the doors. I did not disturb her, nor interrupt her work. Even from the door I could see that her painting would be striking. So many artists fill their canvasses with people, but Nerdanel was one of those who appreciate good craft, and the stairs of the Mindon are the finest. 

   I climbed in silence, watching my breathing, pacing myself, and glancing down from time to time at the red hair of Nerdanel, fading and shrinking below me. It really is a vast hall, that wall must be... well, it’s high. Finally I got my feet firmly planted on the cornice, which is far wider than it seems from below, and opened the little door. I clanked on the chain with my hammer, and heard an answering clank from below where old Heads-up was waiting to close the sluice. The buckets slowed to a halt, and then there was another clank from below, and the chain moved again, slowly, as Carros and Stony Sae started turning the crank. The broken bucket scraped on the inner wall as it came up, and I glanced down to see if we were disturbing Nerdanel, but she did not move her head. The bolt had come loose and I set to work to fix it. 
   
   After a few minutes there was a smothered yelp from below. I looked down and Fëanor had come in behind Nerdanel, and seized her. I nearly yelped myself, but even from my height I could see that her yelp had been only surprise, not something worse. They half-turned as they kissed, and to my embarrassment Fëanor ripped open the front of her gown, and put his big hands on her bared breasts. I stopped breathing for a while; this was not a scene to have witnessed, I could not move, and my heart hammered like a busy forge. 
   
   But after a time I sucked in some air, and my heart slowed its pace, and I thought of poor Fëanor. Everyone always calls him that, though never to his face. Poor Fëanor, whose mother died...
   But there are many of us, the older ones, who came from the old country, and we too have lost loved ones. Poor us. My cousin, who was my closest friend, was slain when a pack of fell wolves attacked. Stony Sae lost his brother Saeros, who stayed behind to search for Elwë, also lost in the dark forest. So though we all say 'poor Fëanor', the word means little to us. 

  Finally he let her go. Their words rose clearly through the still air, and I listened as I waited.
   "How dare you !" she cried, and he laughed in her face.
   "You wanted me to !"
   "I did not ! Not like that ! That is no way to behave ! You would not treat an animal so ! And if you did, it would bite you, deservedly."
   "You will bear my sons" he said, as though ordering wine. Even from my height I could see her astonishment and fury. In fact, she clenched her fists. She must have looked spectacular in her wrath, her wild red hair unbound, her gown torn to the waist, her pale skin... I do not care for women myself, but beauty is beauty, and Nerdanel is tall and strong and altogether magnificent, even if she is the daughter of a smith. 
   "If I ever decide to marry, I promise that you will be informed, whomsoever I choose to wed."
   He laughed again, mockingly, and bowed and spun on his heel, his short cloak whirling behind him, and left. In that moment I knew that he had rehearsed that turn in front of mirrors, that he knew the cloak would swirl just so, setting the gems glittering and the golden thread shining in the Treelight through the mighty windows of the Mindon.

   Nerdanel stood staring after him, her fists clenched, for a few moments, but at that point Heads-up clanked again, and she started, and gripped the torn pieces of her gown and hurried away up the stairs. She did not look up. Nobody ever looks up. 

  Well, I returned to the bucket and immediately caught my finger between the bucket and the chain. Then I yelped, and clanked three times on the chain. Heads-up clanked back, and from above the voice of Cerros echoed down the shaft "Who is hurt ?" 
  There was a lot of blood, it’s strange how some cuts ooze quietly while others spill, or pump...
   A healer once explained about the rivers and streams within the flesh, that bear our blood as the waters of Ulmo spread through the land, but I am none the wiser. I bound the cut, and my handkerchief was instantly red. I sighed and clanked three times again, and the others came running. For with such a wound, climbing back down was no longer possible, and in my arrogance I had not brought rope with me. But Heads-up is a wise one, and clever too, and he brought out the Giving Sheet. How we laughed when his little Lúlë named it. The cloth is cunningly woven to stretch, I cannot imagine how, and so it 'gives'. And when we use it to catch one who would otherwise fall to injury or death, then it 'gives' life, or at least freedom from injury. I had never used it before, but we caught Cerros with it when a hailstorm nearly swept her from the roof of the House of Finarfin. There are those who say you cannot have too many fountains, and for the most part I agree, but to have one on the roof... 
   Of course, when my views were spread, I was summoned to the presence of Finarfin himself, who led me up a quiet, winding stair out onto a high balcony. It was like our climbing holds, imperceptible from below; there are some truly remarkable architects in Valinor, really, it is a delight to work here. And the hidden fountain was set against the heights of Oiolossë, as though to remind us elves how insignificant we truly are against the might of the Valar, Eru bless them. Finarfin had given me that winning smile and my poor heart melted "Very few have ever seen this, I hope you can forgive me for not sharing my secret more widely."
   For a breathless moment I thought (now do not laugh...) I truly thought that he would kiss me ! I must have been fey. I mean, he is happily married to the lovely Eärwen, what was I thinking ? Nothing, really, perhaps only wishing... 

 

  It is one thing to climb, it is another thing altogether to cast yourself off into thin air, relying only on the craft of the weavers and the hands of your mates to save you. The Giving Sheet looked pitifully small, little bigger than the canvas of Nerdanel, abandoned in the middle of the gleaming floor. I hesitated so long that Heads-up shouted "Shall I bring up a rope ?"
   His words shamed me, it was a long climb, and we had all been working like dogs to repair the water; besides which, blood was still welling from the cloth, though I had  bound it tightly as we were taught. And it hurt ! 
   On an instant as fey as I have ever known, I was in midair, like a bird with no wings. It seemed to last forever, the fall, I watched the great hall wheel about me, the roof seemed to rise above me, as though I were hanging still in mid air and the Mindon was lifted from the ground by the hands of the Valar. Then there was a mighty thump and the breath was knocked from my body and the others were laughing and helping me to my feet.

   The healers were kind, and fussed over me like my mother and sisters (I have four), until I felt as contented as a pampered child. But just as we were getting acquainted and I was really enjoying the attention, there was a great disturbance at the door and six weary elves carried in a stretcher on which a huge elf lay as still as a dead thing. The healers all hurried away and my little anecdote ended abruptly. I closed my mouth, I hope I am not a selfish fool; it was plain that the elf on the stretcher needed them more. But they had told me to rest, so I lounged on the couch and watched them work. The healers questioned the stretcher-bearers closely; they had been cutting timbers from a fallen tree when a rotten branch broke, striking one of them on the head and piercing his arm. They had sung him into the healing trance, and staunched the blood, but could do no more. They hung around like family at a birth until they were sent away, while I, forgotten, watched in fascination.

   I must have slept, lulled by the songs of the healers, for when I awoke the healers were gone, and the other patient was sitting up watching me, a white bandage across his forehead and his arm in a sling. He grinned when he saw me blinking at him "At last ! I thought that you would never awaken ! Though..." his voice changed, he frowned slightly "I did not wish you to stir. How beautiful your face is when you sleep. We camp, you know, when we work in the forest, sleeping around the fire, and people often look foolish, or plain, when they sleep. But you looked like a statue, and I could have watched you sleep all day." he blinked "I am called Polda."
  I looked at his great shoulders, his long sinewy limbs and his broad chest "I bet you are." I replied, like some fancy courtier in a play. I hope it was the cordial of the healers loosening my tongue. 
   Polda laughed "And you are Ingor the climber, the healers told me all about you. But when they were gone, and you were sleeping, you spoke in your sleep."
   I blushed, naturally, for who has naught that they would not rather remain hidden ? But he laughed again. He was all in proportion, his head as large as the rest of him, but his features were handsome enough, and his eyes were amber, and clear, and the light of the fire flickered there, and I thought of the line from Ainülindalë about the minute precision of the Ainur. Did they design his eyes to catch firelight just so ? The effect was as satisfying as blue tiles in a fountain, no, as blue gems in a fountain. "Your eyes shine like jewels in the firelight." I said. Polda blinked again and looked closely at me "Are you, do you yet sleep ?"
   I turned to the table by my couch, the cordial was there, and water, and fruit. I drank some water and surveyed my flesh, and my spirit, all seemed in order "No, all is well. But forgive my impertinence, stranger, I am a simple elf, and I say as I see."
   Polda smiled "Do you not wish to know what you said while you slept ?"
   I gaped like a fool, then groped for my dignity as Nerdanel had groped for her gown, and sat up as straight as the soft couch permitted "If it is no trouble."
   Polda laughed aloud "Poor Ingor, with his hurt finger and his hurt pride ! But you need not fear, your words should increase your pride. For you spoke urgently, saying 'I shall save you Nerdanel!' over and over. Who is she, is she your beloved ?"
   At that I was stunned into silence. For how could I speak of what I had seen ? Yet, how could I remain silent ? I hesitated too long. Polda swung his legs to the ground, sat up, then groaned and sank back. My own little injury was instantly forgotten, I hurried to his side and laid my good hand on his brow. He sighed and looked up at me, and for a moment I felt that we had known each other forever, and were intimates. Then he withdrew and laughed "I bet you couldn’t do what we do !"
   I stood up straight and turned away, then looked back at him "I bet you couldn’t do what we do !"
   "Climb a few stairs ? Are you fey ?"
   "Very well, I challenge you to climb the Mindon Eldaliéva."
   He frowned "I have. We went up on my brother’s coming of age. The view..."
   I actually interrupted him "The outside." I said. He looked surprised for a moment, then gaped at me in a most satisfying way. It was my turn to smile, but there were voices on the stair and my mates came in. To my astonishment I found myself standing protectively before Polda.

   Heads-up put the back of his fingers to my forehead, then sat down on my couch and sniffed at the cordial. Stony Sae raised an eyebrow at me but I smiled and nodded and he sighed and smiled back, and turned to look at Polda, who was struggling to sit up again. I pressed him gently back down, and he lay still again. But Cerros knew him "Polda, you old ox, what have you been doing to our Ingor, here he is with his first ever injury, and here we are, ready to pamper and sing like proper healers, and all the time he’s fussing over you ! Ha, they wouldn’t even let us up here until we heard your laughter."
   But again I found myself between Polda and my friends "You are mistaken, for he watched while I slept, and now I would watch over him."
   They looked at each other, my friends, and Heads-up sighed "Well, the healers are all in a flap, two patients in one day, it has never happened before. We told them we would take you away, and sing to you ourselves, and Stony Sae has cordial that they gave him" Sae held up a crystal phial and waggled it at me. Then he looked at Heads-up, and for once spoke his thought "There are five hundred beds here" he said.
    We were all astonished by this, but then, it is better to have a few empty beds than to have none if ever they are needed. Heads-up, who is very old indeed, even compared to the rest of us, said "There was a fire once, it had been dry for a long time. We were in trees. But some of the trees burned. People were leaping around, spreading the fire..." Stony Sae turned away, and I looked once more into the eyes of Polda, who said suddenly "My mother named me Ruivël." 

   I was still staring at those living amber eyes, so full of flickering light, when there was a tremendous disturbance downstairs among the healers. Cerros laughed "The healers have been drinking their own cordials !" but Heads-up nodded to Stony Sae, who left without a word. Of course, he never says anything, so when he does speak, we listen. I thought of the empty beds in the House of Healing, and hoped they were never filled. But Stony Sae was back in moments, his face as expressionless as ever.
   "Fëanor is betrothed." he said.
   "Not to Nerdanel !" I cried, then clapped my hands over my mouth and poked my eye with the bandage. I yelped again, my eyes watered like Nienna, and my mates laughed, but old Heads-up gave me a cloth and I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. But Polda, or Ruivël, was looking seriously at me. Still I could not speak, I did not wish to hear ribald gossip and jokes, the lady did not deserve them, though poor Fëanor could take all that and more as far as I was concerned. But Stony Sae was looking thoughtfully at me "Yes, to Nerdanel, daughter of Mahtan."
   But Ruivël sat up again, with only the faintest grimace, and said "Cerros, take these lads away. Poor Ingor needs to rest. We shall watch over each other, while the cordials and songs of the healers take their course."
   Heads-up narrowed his eyes, but nodded and they filed out in silence, which lingered after they had gone, like a guest reluctant to depart. I lay down again on my couch and closed my eyes with a sigh, feeling more weary than I ever have, even after the Dark Climb. (for those who do not climb, that is the climb on Oiolossë, above the very air. There comes a time of failing vision, a darkness in the mind, like a cave or tunnel, until all is black, and then the fall... But none have been so fey as to press on into the darkness, and none have fallen. But no climber who wishes to use the name can resist the urge to see the darkness for themselves, and feel the raw terror of the void.) 

   I slept, suddenly overwhelmed by the day. Telperion was bright when I awoke, and Ruivël was smiling at me. "There, I knew you were not ready to leave. Your frieds are charming, but I think they would have jested with you and kept you from sleep."
   I nodded slowly, Heads-up might be old, but he loves a joke and a revel as much as the freshest youngster. I sighed and took a drink of water.
   "How is it with you, my friend ?"
   He smiled then, one of those complete smiles that bowls you away and you find yourself smiling perforce. Suddenly he appeared in my eyes more beautiful even than golden Finarfin, who I have always thought the loveliest elf in Valinor. There was another silence between us, and then, in a surprisingly small voice he spoke again.
   "I swear by the stars of Varda, if you love Nerdanel and are heartbroken, you may confide in me, and none shall ever hear of it."
   This gave me pause. What could I say ? Talking in my sleep ! The embarrassment clouded my thought. I looked away, and there was a small tree in a gilded pot, with twisting trunk and delicate little leaves. The House of Healing was full of greenery, very Vanyar, but nice, and the air was very sweet. I might get some more plants for my own place, I thought. Ruivël was silent, the wildfire burning quietly, low on the ground, waiting to reach the tree. But my heart pressed me on, I could not let him think I loved the lady, I had to tell him, and I could only tell him everything. 
   I looked at him, and the world filled with his eyes, but what of the lady ? It was a torment more painful than my injury, darker than the Dark, but he was there, and I gazed at him, willing him to understand me without the need for words. But after a time my eyes cleared and I saw the pain in his clenched jaw, and the despairing hope in his eyes and my heart convinced my mind.
   "I do not love Nerdanel. I scarcely know her indeed, only as her father’s daughter. But I saw..." still I could not speak, but understanding grew in the amber eyes and Ruivël sat back and sighed.
   "Fëanor." he said "What did he do, seize her ?"
   I nodded, opened my mouth to tell all and closed it again. Ruivël actually stood then, and I rose hurriedly and moved to press him down again. But to my astonishment he took me in his arms and held me and I wept like a child. We sat on his couch, he murmuring soothingly and I sobbing and clutching him. After a time I grew warm, and forgot my tears, and wondered at the mighty body held in my arms. Ha, I had thought myself fine and strong until I held him, but there, they do not call him Polda in jest ! I took a shuddering breath and spoke to his chest "He tore open her gown, and bared her breasts, in the hall of the Mindon. I was up on the cornice, they did not see me... She was furious, he told her, he said 'you will bear my sons' and I would have struck him if I had been able to reach them. I thought that she would strike him herself! She might have, but he was gone before she could draw breath. By the stars, I would see her avenged !"
   His arms tightened about me "They are betrothed." he said softly. I shook my head.
   "It cannot be ! That is not betrothal ! That is desire, not the strong foundation of a loving home !"
   "Yes, but that is only one moment in a courtship. You have not seen the rest."
   "No no, no, it was no jesting play, it would have been ill-mannered in a child unwrapping a gift! To treat a person so, a lady... to treat your beloved, with whom you choose to spend all of time... no, it is absurd. He does not love her, that is not love !"
   Ruivël sniffed and then was silent. We were still, warmed and comforted by the nearness. A healer came and looked at us, we both looked up in silence, she smiled and went away. The light of Telperion filled the air with silver, the little tree gleamed, the gilding on the pot shone, and I knew, without looking, that the amber eyes were glowing with joy.

   We slept, fully clad, in each other’s arms, until a healer woke us, with broth, and fresh warm rolls of bread. Ruivël drank a great flagon of apple juice, all in one. The healer made sure we were mending, and then, as we ate, he drew up a chair and said "You must hear the news! Fëanor is betrothed!"
   We looked at each other from our separate couches like naughty children, then Ruivël said "We have heard. The messenger rides behind the tidings!"
   But the healer shook his head "That is not the whole story ! Wait until you hear what he did."
   "What ?" I cried in alarm, and Ruivël looked sideways at me. The healer sat back a little, frowning in puzzlement, and I thought of the lady and sat back myself "Forgive me, carry on, please."
   The healer pursed his lips and nodded. (it must be difficult to train, when there are so few hurts to heal, but there, women need tending for childbirth, and children will get into scrapes...) "Very well. It seems that the lady Nerdanel was reluctant and denied his suit. But he has made her a crown !" seeing our astonished eyes he smiled and nodded "I know ! Manwë himself must be indignant. Well, those who have seen it say that it is the most delicate, beautiful thing, of beryls hung from the finest chains, between curving points of gold. Nothing like it has been seen before, and all Valinor is agog to see it." 
   "Have you seen it ?" I asked.
   "Oh yes. They were holding court before the Mindon, and Ingwë sent an escort to bring them to Valmar. Actually" he looked doubtful for a moment "Fëanor did not look too happy to be summoned so, but he was smiling as he went."