Golden Days by Lyra

Chapter 17

Aaand it's time for Nerdanel's exam to start... not yet.

The two weeks leading up to my exam were so busy that they seemed to pass twice as quick as usual. I attended a few lectures for young sculptors held by different masters, in case anything had dropped my memory. Father warned me that examiners liked to ask elementary questions, since many examinees prepared only for advanced matters and neglected the basics. I assured him that I would prepare for every aspect of the craft, although I had to admit that I didn't see why the examiners wouldn't focus on more complicated issues, which were after all more worthy of examination.
„Because all young people prepare for those,“ Father explained. „But they forget that they will not only be craftspeople, but also teachers. And when you introduce a beginner to the craft, you need the basics.“
That made a lot of sense, so I made sure to go through all my notes, even those from my childhood days. I read up on tools and materials, on the principles of composition, on famous sculptures of the Noldor, on the history of sculpting from Cuiviénen to the present.
I discussed the different tasks that would be posed in the exam with my father. I felt confident about most of them, but one really terrified me: The prospect of having to give an expertise. I really, really didn't like to judge other people's work. I wasn't sure that I was ready to give a professional opinion, either. I certainly did not trust myself to guess at the ideas that had inspired somebody's sculpture, at the thoughts behind somebody else's design choices. Above all, I did not want to voice my opinions about the quality of somebody else's sculpture, unless that opinion was very high. Even when asked by a panel of examiners, I didn't want to hurt some fellow craftsperson's feelings, not even Master Alcaráco's.

Father smiled and assured me that I could voice my misgivings in a diplomatic way, and that surely I would have no great difficulty intuiting the ideas behind a sculpture created by a sculptor who had been taught the same things as I had, who was following the same artistic traditions. „And even if you can't, it's perfectly fine to talk about what the artwork makes you feel. You can make things up if all else fails. The larger part of an expertise is about your personal reaction to it, anyway.“
That might be correct, but I still hated the idea. Still, it was something I had to prepare for, so I read expertises that Father had written about sculptures I knew, and I looked up all expertises that had been put on public record to get a better grip on the typical phrases and the general content. There was no general, objective truth to discern. I tried to console myself that I might now already have read a professional expertise about the very sculpture I would be asked to judge, so I'd be able to paraphrase from that.

I also went to see Nusírilo about my exam robes. He was busy with another customer, so he sent me to his daughter. Lanyalossë was chattering eagerly as she took my measurements.
„How exciting that you're going to be a craftsmistress soon!“ she said cheerfully.
„We don't know that yet,“ I cautioned. „I might fail.“
„I doubt it,“ she said matter-of-factly while noting down the length of my arms. „Unless your nerves fail you, I suppose. I heard your practical exam went really well.“
„You heard?“
Lanyalossë smiled, returning with her tape measure to take my shoulder width. „Of course I heard. It's the talk of the town. One exam piece in Yavanna's garden, and the other in the King's house. What a start to your career.“ She gave a wistful sigh. „I wish I got an opportunity like that – of dressing somebody famous. Nobody would care about my youth then. No examiner would dare to let me fail if I had clothed the king!“
That was an interesting thought – but not one I could believe. I knew at least one examiner who would be only too happy to let me fail. „Maybe you'll get the chance.“
She sighed. „I doubt it. I'll get to do an ordinary exam piece that will never make it out of the guild-house. And it may be years before I get to make it.“ The tape measure went about my hips, my waist, my breasts. „I know!“ Lanyalossë suddenly exclaimed. „You're sort of famous! Let me design a special exam gown for you! It'll be spectacular. That'll show Father and the others that I'm ready for my exams!“
I frowned. „Why don't you just tell him that you feel ready?“
„I did – a dozen times! Always the same answer. I'm too young, and it's preposterous to ask. But you're younger than I am!“
„I am,“ I said, feeling guilty that I would have to refuse her request. „But that's exactly why I mustn't have a spectacular exam gown. I'm challenging tradition enough as it is – believe me, a lot of examiners are going to be very cross about that, work for the king or no.“

She heaved a sigh. „Yes. Of course. I'll sew something dull and ordinary, then. No problem.“ Of course it was a problem.
I was sorry, I really was. I had no idea whether she actually was ready to try the exams – for all I knew, her father might be right – but I did sympathise with her. I wanted to help her.
And I had an idea. „You know who is going to be examined in a couple of years' time? Prince Fëanáro! He's coming to study with Father soon, but Father is certain that he will not be an apprentice for very long. He can wear a special design of yours. He likes challenging traditions, and no examiner is going to fail him.“ Of course, I had no idea when Prince Fëanáro would be examined. He was no older than Lanyalossë. But if Father thought he'd be ready for the exams in a year or two, I doubted that the prince would want to wait much longer.
„That would be marvellous,“ Lanyalossë said. Then she gave me a sly glance. „You know him well, do you?“
Better than I care to, I almost said, but I managed to remain civil. „I had to make a sculpture of him and his siblings, so I got to spend quite a bit of time with him.“
„Some people have all the luck,“ said Lanyalossë. I didn't bother to say that I hadn't felt lucky at all. She wouldn't have understood. But she had a fine set of grey robes ready for me two days before my exam, solid and unassuming, just as I liked it.

The last week of summer was rainy and cool, creating a spectacular mood when the raindrops reflected the light of the Trees. The world was shrouded in a shining curtain of gems. I sat in my room, trying to prepare the perfect answer for every possible question and longing to dance out in the rain. Giggles and laughter wafted up to my window when Sarnië jumped from puddle to puddle, when Mother's apprentices splashed along the muddy path on their way to lessons, or when Lisanto slipped on the wet ground on his way to feeding the pigs, landing on his butt with kitchen waste raining down around him.
I was wondering whether the title of craftsmistress was worth this seclusion from the world. How strange: I had not missed the rain or the chores or even the company when I was working on my sculpture, but I was missing them sorely now! Maybe it was a good thing that Aulë had appointed my exam to be so soon – in a few days, life would return to normal, either way.
At the same time, I wished I could postpone the examination forever, even though I was looking forward to the end of it. It was confusing and terribly frustrating.

I couldn't fall asleep the night before my exam. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, watching Telperion's light grow in intensity and telling myself that in order to think quickly and answer well, I needed my sleep. It didn't help. It wasn't that I wasn't tired, but my mind was too busy to drift into slumber. Even as my body relaxed, I kept rattling off the different properties of different stones and metals, the development of Noldorin sculpting, and the phrases used to describe and analyse a statue, bust or scene. My room was growing darker as Telperion began to fade, and still I could not sleep. The more I tried, the less it worked.

When the gleam on the ceiling took on a golden hue, I gave up. I went to the window to look outside. It had stopped raining. A gentle mist was rising from the grass and the woods in the early morning's light; it would be a beautiful day. I washed with icy water, hoping that the shock would banish the exhaustion I felt after my sleepless night. I usually did not think much about my looks, but I braided my hair with great care that morning. The exam robes lay ready for me. They felt both reassuring and alien, cool on my feverish skin.
When I came to the kitchen, I found out that I wasn't the only one up so early. Mother was already preparing breakfast as if she had guessed that I might not sleep. The sweet smell of rice pudding, cinnamon and sugared cherries, normally so appetizing, was enough to make me nauseous.
„Good morning, Nerdanel,“ Mother said, smiling as if it was just any other old morning. „Did you sleep well?“
„Good morning. I didn't sleep at all,“ I admitted, and expected to be told that it was a bad idea to go to an exam over-tired.
But no. „Most of us don't,“ Mother said. „You'll catch up tomorrow. Would you like a cup of tea?“
Tea sounded safe. Mother handed me a cup of vervain tea (or tisane, as Prince Fëanáro would doubtlessly have insisted; and how annoying that he wouldn't stay out of my thoughts!), and I could breathe in the fresh, earthy scent without any protest from my anxious stomach.
„I know you do not feel hungry, but I'd still recommend you eat something. In my experience, you're not hungry until the exam, but just before the first question, you'll suddenly feel ravenous. And your brain needs food.“
„And sleep,“ I said distractedly.
„Well, yes. But what's done is done. You can still make sure that if it's tired, at least it won't be starved.“
I managed to swallow a few spoons of rice pudding, aided by the stimulating vervain tea. I even managed not to spill anything on my good robes.

Unlike the Vanyar, for whom examinations were private affairs, our exams were public, and in theory, everybody who cared to could attend and listen. In general, however, this sort of public entertainment wasn't particularly popular. Families and friends would be present, and of course any teachers that had invested in the examinee's preparation, but that tended to be it. Aulë's court, where the examinations of craftspeople took place, was theatre-shaped in order to hold many observers, but normally, only the very first row of stone seats was taken. I had sat there often, watching one of Father's or Mother's apprentices taking their final exam. Now it was my turn to be grilled in front of everybody's eyes.
As I slowly made my way into the middle of the arena, towards the table where my three main examiners would sit, I could see that my audience was rather larger than expected. There were a lot of unfamiliar faces, of people I had nothing to do with. I wondered what had brought them here. Maybe they had been on the king's terrace and decided to find out how the story was going to end. They hadn't come because they knew me and felt they ought to show me support; they were there out of pure curiosity.

There were familiar faces as well, of course. My parents, Father looking uncommonly solemn in his grey robes, with Sarnië sitting on his lap. Her fingers were toying with something stuck to Father's robes; I could not see it at the distance, but I knew that it was a fox-shaped brooch made from hammered copper wire, an ancient piece that Father had made when he was hardly older than I was now. My parents' apprentices were also present, as were Ataralassë and Númiel, waving at me from their places in the second row with Erenwen. I recognised Lanyalossë and her circle of friends - they were an unexpected addition, although after Lanyalossë's interest in my career, I possibly should have guessed. I could also see Master Carnildo, who, having been my tutor, was as little allowed to examine me as Father was. When he caught my eyes, he put his hands together in a gesture of encouragement. I tried to give a brave smile in return.
But one face that was missing from the still-growing crowd, and that was the face of Prince Fëanáro. I should have been glad of it – after all, he tended to make me either nervous or angry – but somehow, I felt let down. It wasn't that I wanted him present, but after he had insisted in supporting me at the palace, I would have expected him to attend my exam as well. Sure, my sculpture was done and he had got what he wanted, but it would still have been decent to stay until the end, wouldn't it? What kind of ally stayed away when their purported friend needed all the support she could get? The nausea in my stomach turned to anger. Quite a bit of that anger was directed at myself. What did I care whether Prince Fëanáro deigned to watch my exam or not? I should have been relieved, not disappointed!

I sat down heavily on the lonely seat in the middle of the arena and tried to ignore the many eyes at my back. Ahead of me stood the table where my three main examiners would sit; further behind, the stone seats for the other master sculptors. On my right-hand side, there was another table for the Maiar who would take notes of the proceedings. On my left, I could see something high and narrow covered by a canvas sheet. So there truly would be an expertise asked of me. I tried to discern any features of the covered sculpture through the cloth, but there was nothing to give me even the smallest idea, not at this distance. I went through all the expertises I had read, trying to match the corresponding sculptures with the pole-like appearance of the hidden thing. No, nothing seemed to fit. I would have to judge an unknown sculpture. I tried not to get too upset about that. Instead, I forced myself to sit straight, as though I wasn't weighed down by fear at all. I closed my eyes, and breathed deep, and told myself that I didn't need to be nervous. I was well-prepared. I knew as much about my craft as could be expected. As long as my voice or my nerves didn't fail me, as long as the examiners didn't ask anything too obscure, I would be fine - even if the expertise went completely wrong. And half of Tirion was present to see that in spite of my youth, I was ready to pass.
The gentle hum of the audience's conversation was swelling. I opened my eyes, thinking that Aulë and the board of masters had arrived, but nothing was happening in front of me. I turned around towards the audience to find out what the buzz was about, and saw Queen Indis descending the stairs. People rose and bowed as she passed. A complete stranger sitting in the first row gave up his place for her. Father was raising his eyebrows at me: You seem to have made an impression. I forced the corners of my mouth into another smile that didn't reach my eyes.

My examiners seemed intent on making me wait, but at last they came: All the master sculptors in their high-collared, grey robes, and the lord Aulë, standing out among them by sheer size and because he had chosen to dress himself in reddish brown hues. His hair and beard were also more chestnut-coloured than usual. I assumed that this was meant to be a vote of confidence, and wondered what my audience – and above all, my examiners – would be making of it. My heart lurched sickeningly when I saw that Master Alcaráco was to be one of my main examiners, sitting down next to Aulë. The third person at the table was Master Ercoirë, whom I knew only in passing. The others sat down in the stone seats on the other side of the arena. They were mainly here to witness the exam, although they were technically allowed to question me as well, should they be dissatisfied with the main examiners' work. I tried to fathom the mood of my judges. Master Alcaráco gave me a glare, his lips firmly pursed. He was just as angry now as he had been two weeks ago. I wasn't surprised, but I wasn't happy, either. Even more worrying I found that some of the other examiners looked likewise stern – whether because Master Alcaráco had fomented animosity against me or whether they had their own reasons, I did not know. Some of the others – including Master Ercoirë, to my relief – were looking earnest but not unfriendly, with none of the harsh lines between their eyes that I could see on the brow of Master Alcaráco. That was some small consolation. Some of them even smiled as I met their eyes.

Aulë raised his hands, and the hum from the audience stopped. From previous exams that I had witnessed, I knew that even his softly spoken words could be heard even in the uppermost row of the stone seats, because the theatre had been designed to carry and amplify all sounds made in its middle. Even my most helpless 'um' would be heard from the front to the back row.
„We have gathered for the first theoretical examination of Nerdanel, daughter of Mahtan and Istarnië, apprentice sculptress,“ Aulë began. „If there be any reasons why this examination should not take place here and now, let them be voiced now. Nerdanel, are you feeling fit and healthy enough to stand the exam? If you answer 'yes' now, you cannot later plead illness, so think well.“
I thought well. I hadn't slept, at least one examiner hated me, and my innards felt like a ball of wool in the paws of a litter of excited kittens. But exam fright was hardly a proper illness. So I cleared my throat, which seemed to have forgotten its function, and said, „Yes“. It was barely more than a whisper, but I could still hear it reverberate around the stone rows.
Aulë gave me an encouraging nod. „Is there anything else that we need to take into account?“ he asked, a little louder now. At once, Master Alcaráco rose to his feet.
„There is. I wish to caution my learned colleagues – and the lord Aulë, again – that the examinee is not yet of age, and should thus be considered too young for the honour of becoming a craftsmistress,“ Master Alcaráco said. Some of the other masters nodded their agreement.

Master Ercoirë stood up. „Disagreed,“ he said, and I felt better at once. So my other examiner was on my side (or at least not directly opposed to me). „There is no law that states a minimal age for examinees. It is determined that an apprentice is eligible for standing the exam and earning the title of master or mistress as soon as both tutors and the lord Aulë find her ready, if she passes a practical test of skill. These conditions are met. We can continue.“
In the back of the arena, Master Yánanto rose. „Ercoirë has a point, but I agree with Alcaráco. Nerdanel's youth is incompatible with the dignity of the title of mistress. A test of character would have been in order before admitting her to this examination.“
„Agreed,“ another master craftsman whose name I couldn't remember in my growing distress said. „I propose that this examination be postponed until all of us have found Nerdanel suitable in spite of her young age, or until she turns 50.“
„Agreed!“ Master Alcaráco shouted triumphantly.
„Disagreed,“ I heard Father speak up behind me. I could hear puzzlement in his voice. „How should such a test of character be set up? But if any assurance is needed, I attest to Nerdanel's maturity of character and to her supreme level of skill, which should, in this place, matter more.“
Oh, Father, I thought, feeling my cheeks grow hot (quite immaturely). I remembered every single instant of childish behaviour in the past weeks. There were quite a lot of those. I hardly deserved such a strong vote of confidence.
Not that it would be of use, if Master Alcaráco got his way. „Your assurance is worthless,“ he spat out. „You are her father; you are biased.“
The masters exchanged troubled looks now. Some were shaking their heads. I hoped they were shaking them at Master Alcaráco's behaviour, not at me, but I didn't dare to assume anything at this point.

Another voice from the audience. „Then I hope my words will be considered more trustworthy.“ That was Queen Indis' reassuring alto. My heart flew out to her. „During her practical test, I have had plenty of opportunity to observe Nerdanel's behaviour and character, and I have found her mature, constant and polite even under adversity. I assure you that her maturity and steadfastness could put many a grown man to shame.“
I imagined that the last words were underlined by a pointed look at Master Alcaráco, but I did not turn to check. I sat passively, my hands in my lap, as though none of this were of any concern to me. I did not know what else to do. I had prepared to be questioned about my craft; I hadn't expected to sit in the middle of Aulë's court while the master sculptors argued among themselves. I was hoping that maybe if I didn't move, they'd forget that I was here.

Master Yánanto rose again. „The intercessions of Master Mahtan and Queen Indis are sufficient for me.“
„For me as well,“ said the master whose name I had forgotten. „I withdraw my motion. We can continue.“
„Agreed,“ several masters threw in. I suppressed a sigh of relief, which everybody would have heard.
„Agreed, but I think that Nerdanel's youth should be taken into account in another way,“ said Aimíriel, getting to her feet. Her tight robe was showing that her belly had begun to grow. „I propose that should she fail this examination, she should still have two attempts once she comes of age.“
You had only two chances to stand the exam, normally; if you failed the second time, you would never become a master of your craft. So Aimíriel was meaning well. Nonetheless, I did not think her suggestion wise. It would turn this examination into nothing more than a monitored exercise. Besides, I didn't want to think about failing!
„Disagreed,“ Master Alcaráco shouted. „That would reward her for her audacity!“
„Agreed,“ one or two others said at once.
„I disagree with Mistress Aimíriel's proposition, but I agree that Nerdanel's youth should be taken into account,“ Master Ercoirë said, his calm, composed voice contrasting with Master Alcaráco's red-faced fury. There was no hostility as he looked at me, but I nonetheless felt frightened. If Master Alcaráco had turned my second examiner against me, I was lost. This would be no longer about testing my understanding of sculpting, merely about proving a point and embarrassing me in front of far too many people.

Master Ercoirë continued, „I propose that she may stand the exam and gain the right to call herself a master sculptress if she passes, but that she be constricted from teaching apprentices of her own until she leaves her father's household.“
This time, I couldn't keep a sigh of relief from escaping. I had no plans of teaching my own apprentices anytime soon, so this constriction would not be hard to bear. There were mutterings and hisses in the audience, but nobody opposed Master Ercoirë's petition out loud. Aulë turned to me. „Nerdanel, do you accept Ercoirë's suggestion? You do not have to. As has been said, no minimal age for the examinations has ever been laid down. You have every right to take it, and if you pass, you have every right to every privilege of a tried and true master craftswoman.“
Master Alcaráco jumped up again. „But you must see that it is sensible, Lord Aulë! She is too young!“
Aulë's laughter made the stone seats ring. „To me, Alcaráco, you are all very young. I can but judge you by the maturity of your behaviour.“
I was ready to display such maturity, if only to finally end this fruitless argument. I came to my feet. „I accept Master Ercoirë's suggestion.“
„No apprentices until you leave your father's household,“ Master Ercoirë repeated, watching me closely.
„As you say, Master Ercoirë,“ I said in my most peaceable voice. „Until I leave my father's household.“ I thought by myself that there was no minimal age for leaving the house of one's parents, anyway. Most people only left their parents' house when they married, of course, but technically, I could move out as soon as I saw fit. So if the urge to train my own apprentices became overwhelming - stronger than my love for the comforts of home - before I came of age, I would simply have to find a little house of my own. Not that I expected that to be necessary, but it certainly made it easier to give that promise.
„In that case, I am satisfied,“ Master Ercoirë said, giving me a nod. I bowed my head in return.
„Agreed,“ others joined in.
„Very well,“ Aulë said, shrugging his shoulders. He was clearly tired of this banter; streaks of grey were appearing in the russet of his hair and beard. „Is there anything else?“
After the heated discussion, the silence, punctured only by a few whispers, sounded strange and unsettling.
„Then we can – what now?“ Aulë said sharply, frowning at someone in the audience at my back.
„I have a petition to make,“ a clear, confident voice rang through Aulë's court. „I propose that Master Alcaráco be removed from the board of examiners.“
Prince Fëanáro had arrived after all.