Artifacts in Archive by Lferion

Artifacts in Archive

Read Artifacts in Archive

The box was in amongst the slowly diminishing collection of uncatalogued, uncategorized "miscellaneous objects with words attached" that had been part of the library and archive at Imladris from the beginning. The original core of the collection was a crate left under protective Song as well as fine stonework along with nearly the entire library that was left from Tir Tolrí, Caranthir's contingency-fort.

Elrond liked to do the work of categorizing and properly documenting these artifacts, when he had time. Now that the entirely of the library, archives and [museum] of Imladris was now in Aman, and Cîr Imladris built and inhabited and finally feeling like a home and not a way station, Elrond had much more time to devote to such pursuits.

"Strung beads with note" was the label on the standard medium-small flat box, with no accession number, no arrival date (or even when it had been put in the most recent box), which argued for either early if not original acquisition, or irregular provenance, and possibly both. It had an *item* number, and a single line entry on the master inventory, which had tracked it through three moves now, but that was an entirely different system. Something of a mystery then, if only the question of why it was still uncatalogued, despite the preservative Songs layering the box and its contents like an onion, the outermost as recent as the pack-and-preserve for the journey West after the final defeat of Sauron. Which had been a number of years ago now, though the Song was was still doing its job, made easier by the nature of Aman itself.

Still, there was also now much more time and leisure to investigate small mysteries such as this, now that Cîr Imladris was settled and thriving. (And he did not need to be quite so actively involved in keeping everything going.)

This box, then, and its mystery of provenance as well as the mystery of why it was still anonymous after so many years. Hasty (but not careless) packing on at least two occasions (not three -- the packing to Sail West had been very careful and deliberate. Still, it had been packing, not categorizing). The aforementioned Inventory attested to that. Amon Ereb and ... Lindon? That felt right. Elrond carried the box to the work-desk he preferred, and studied the thing.

Not just the preserving Songs were layered like an onion, the packaging itself was as well. The outermost box and not very helpful label were Imladrin standard -- serviceable, sturdy, a size that fit well on the shelves, made in such a way that the lid would not fall off should it be dropped.

Unfastening the lid and folding back the first layer of paper padding revealed a second box, of Dwarven make, with a different puzzle-top and a pasted label that said essentially what the tag on the outer box did. Elrond remembered the way to un-puzzle the lid, and thought fondly of various Dwarves he had known over the Ages as he went through the steps. It was a design meant to keep the contents secure in transit, and quite elegant, requiring some precision to open. Once the lid was folded back, he discovered the padding to be packing-moss, grey-gold with age, but still holding a ghost of distinctive scent. Whoever had Sung the safe-keeping had threaded the scent into the working. It may have been done quickly, but it had been done well.

Nestled in the moss was a birchbark packet or perhaps an envelope. A strip of the inner layer of bark woven through slits served as a fastener, and a label, though the scribing on the bark was nearly impossible to read it was so faded. But the slip remembered being written on, and Elrond instinctively began to hum one of the 'encouragement-renewal-repair-infuse-clarify-general positive energy' Songs he had known so long he did not remember learning it, though he did remember using it on all sorts of things in the days of Amon Ereb and [River-Island fortress*]. He must have picked it up from Maglor.

That sort of Song would not have worked in Ennor, not on something this old, this faded. Even the most sensitive and skilled of the archivists would not have gotten more than that there were words there once.

But Valinor was different, and in this way, the difference meant that the letters darkened back into visibility after only a few phrases, responding to the intent of the Song, without needing the singer's focused concentration and will. Amazing. With the slip freed from serving as a fastener, Elrond read and copied out the words as revealed:

"Nelyëseldanië (Nailpen) made these as special friendship/courting-equivalent gifts for Morfalir with glass of Arveriel's making, and other beads from various sources. At least one of them had been given and a reciprocal gift received (most likely the 'rainbow' bracelet, but that is not certain) before Morfalir fell, and we lost Selde a season later. The poem they were working on is included."

"Lost" was an interesting word to use here. Elrond recalled that word being used not for people known to have died -- that was most often 'fell' -- nor people who left and went elsewhere. Lost was vanished, and the hope was that they were dead, not captured.

The bent bark had eased open while he copied the note, revealing several lengths of beads, some on wire links, others on knotted cord, padded with small scraps of cloth and curls of unspun wool. Green and purple were the main colors, set off by white, grey and black beads. And, yes, there was a strand with a rainbow set. Even without touching them, Elrond could perceive the care and deep feeling -- the love -- that had gone into the assembly. Love that was returned. Not romantic, or even physical, but most definitely love.

Another small slip of birchbark atop the beads held a few lines of poetry (the hand was the same as the outer note -- no doubt the work in progress had been on slate or wax, resources that would have been wanted for re-use, and thus the copy) --

Green is for growing
For leaves in the sun
Ocean waves rolling
The solo path run
A solitaire, reaching
A friendship begun

Lavender, lilac
Steadfast the heart
Shadows at twilight
[Shared thoughts to impart ?]
-- -- -- -- --
A comfortable start

Elrond had a very faint memory of a thin, pale person who might have answered to Selde. Who favored grey and green and purple. They had kind hands, and had been a quiet presence in the very early days of living amongst the Feanorians. One new person amongst many new people. He did not recall knowing them later, certainly not at Tir Tolrí. He and Elros had known everyone in the river-fortress, and could still list them by name if he so wished. There had been no Selde there.

But, again, this was Valinor. And now that he had names, it might even be possible discover if there was more to the story, or to make this not the end of the story. Not tonight, or even likely this month, but soon.

Soon. Because he could, and love mattered, no matter the form.

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Chapter End Notes

Nelyëseldanië (goes by Selde as a use-name) is a character from Zhie and my "Companions" series, though their story has not yet been posted (or even finished yet). They are a-gender and aro-ace. A Feanorian partisan and a follower of Fingon.

Morfalir is introduced in King Fingon's Menagerie, as one of Celegorm's people. They (non-binary) were badly injured at Doriath, not party to the abandonment of Elured and Elurin in the woods.

Tir Tolrí - Fortress of Reed Island - was originally one of Caranthir's outposts, built on an island in the Thalos river, not far from the western face of southern Ered Luin.

Cîr Imladris is a series now.

The jewelry and the photograph are both by me. The large art-glass bead was made by an artist I met at WorldCon 76, but their name escapes me. The colors are those of the aro-ace pride flag.