Sylvanlight, Book I by slflew

---

Chapter 14. The Library.

---

Companies of Beasts and Birds:

A muster of peacocks. An exaltation of larks. A wakefulness of nightingales. A charm of goldfinches. An unkindness of ravens. A clattering of choughs. A pride of lions. A business of ferrets. An impatience of wives. A doctrine of doctors. A sentence of judges. A flattery of taverns. A melody of harpers. A tabernacle of bakers. A frenzy of maidens. A skulk of foxes. A peep of chickens. An eloquence of lawyers. A blast of hunters.

~ The Boke of St. Albans

The first snow was beginning to fall, snowflakes drifting out of the sky. The first snow is always a wondrous time, a time of excitement, of something new. The dirt and grime of the city began to fade underneath a white cover as Gwen stood beside her master, waiting for the carriage to arrive. The cats were being taken care of at a friend' s house, he told her. He was dressed simply in black, with few possessions in his bag. She too had her clothes in a bag, anxiously bouncing up and down as the flakes caught in the curls of her hair.

As the carriage neared Thingol's house, the snow seemed to intensify. Then the carriage stopped, and Feanor hopped out, reaching out his hand to help her. She slipped on the damp cobblestones, and he caught her. They made their way through the garden encrusted with white, and into the warm kitchen, where they stomped their feet on the rug to get rid of the snow.

They walked through the kitchen and up the stairs, where a butler greeted them and showed them to a room she had not yet seen. There Thingol sat in front of a broad fireplace, reading a book. When he saw them, he stood up and bowed, placing his hand over his heart. "Feanor! It is a pleasure to see you." His eyes flicked over to Gwen. "And this is your servant - I remember you."

Feanor gave a wry smile. "And the payment?"

"In the bank already."

Feanor looked at Gwen. "What will Gwen be doing while I'm gone?"

"We need her to look after the children, and act as a nurse."

Feanor smiled again. "Ah." Gwen's heart sank. She had no great love of children. She nearly preferred her master's angry bouts than children.

Thingol shifted a little. "Her mark has been transferred as well?"

"Indeed. I filed the paperwork, it's all in order."

Feanor turned to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Here's where I leave. Don't try and run away - Thingol now had just as much a right to punish you as I do."

She smiled wanly. "Don't worry. I hope all goes well for you."

His eyes hardened a little. "Yes, well." He stood up suddenly. "Farewell, Gwen." He bowed towards Thingol. "Master Thingol." Then he left quickly.

She stood there awkwardly. The butler came over to her, then. "I will lead you to your room," he said stiffly. She followed him through more elaborate rooms, then up a grand staircase. There was another great room, then a hall where the living quarters must be. The butler led her into what looked like a playroom of sorts, then to an adjacent bedroom. "Here you are, miss," he said. "The children's rooms are all attached to the nursery, so you will be close to them."

"Oh," she said, looking at the room, "It's perfect. Thank you." The butler nodded and left her there. A room with a bed - it was more than she had under Feanor. She set her suitcase on the bed and looked around. There was a window looking out upon the snow-covered garden and a radiator - Gwen blinked. A radiator was a technology she had not yet seen here, but it reduced the fire hazard. She walked out into the 'nursery,' and noted three other bedrooms adjacent to it, doors closed. Melian swept into the room, grey eyes smiling.

"So you're the loaner from Feanor - I'm pleased to meet you once more," she said, smiling hospitably. A few heads peeked around the open doorframe, and Melian held out her hand to welcome them in. Five dark-haired children traipsed in, and Melian introduced them with pride.

The first - Glin - was a sturdy boy who looked to be about nineteen, although Melian stated his age as 38. He had a dark brooding face, short hair, and a lanky frame not unlike his father's. "A wonderful painter," Melian stated proudly. The next, Seer, was a girl who looked nearly two years the younger, with long hair and a quiet bookish face. She seemed like the kind of person Gwen could get along with, she reasoned. She had musical talent, able to sing and play many instruments.

 

The next two, boys with wide curious eyes, were twins - an incredibly rare occurrence among Elves. Chen and Bo, they were called, and showed promise as writers, she was told, and were prone to mischief when you weren't looking. They looked about seven or eight, as opposed to the next youngest, who looked to be only about four. She didn't greet her, as the others did, and seemed no more than three or four. Amy, as she was called, clung to her sister's hand, staring.

After Melian sent them off to dinner, she led Gwen to the kitchens, where the servants were to eat. "I hope you don't mind," Melian said. "They're wonderful children, and we could simply use you to keep them occupied throughout the day. Thingol and I have business we must tend to during the day. You most certainly can take them into the city, and Glin is more than capable leading you around. It's just the others don't respect him at all - there's such an age difference, see. Seer would love someone more her age to play around with, a girl who isn't so young..." Melian continued rattling off inter-sibling relationships until they reached the kitchen door, where she left after a kind farewell.

Gwen opened the door to the wondrous smell of turkey. She sighed, contented. Feanor had no desire for such a large bird to be bought, since they would never be able to eat it all before it went bad. She skipped down the steps and into the kitchen she remembered, with its herbs hanging from the ceiling. It was bustling, but not as much as before, with no current feast. However, the entire staff was eating together at long wooden tables. The cook took notice of her, then laughed broadly. "Ee plab neesta!" she said, gesturing over to the tables, shouting for them to make room for her on the benches. She sat down in the proffered spot, between much laughter and talking. Food was passed to her - turkey, mashed potatoes, apples, cheese, rolls - and she partook of it, listening to the conversations around her. The man next to her, a rough-looking man, glad in dirty clothes, turned an inquisitive eye toward her and asked her something in Breech.

She sighed - "I don't understand Breech," she said, realizing she needed to learn that phrase quickly. The man laughed, took a large bite of his roll, and bellowed - "You speak English, then?" She nodded, and he spoke quickly to those around her - a woman holding a young child, a boy, and one of the butlers. They nodded, seemingly interested. "Where are you from, then, if you don't know Breech?"

The mother spoke up. "You're from that new batch, aren't you, dear? From offworld?"

The gardener beside her frowned. "What? They brought slaves in from offworld?" Gwen nodded. "Non-Numenoreans? Won't that ruin..."

The butler interrupted him. "Nonsense! Of course you're Numenorean, aren't you?"

She nodded once more. "What is it that Master Elwe does for a living, though?"

The boy started. "You don't know? You are from offworld, aren't you. He imports things from offworld."

Gwen frowned. "From my world, Earth? That doesn't make sense."

The butler leaned in. "To clarify - other worlds, not yours."

Gwen blinked. This had not occurred to her. Of course - with spaceships, one would be able to explore other worlds. "That must be a lucrative business."

"Yup." The boy dug into his potatoes.

An old man leaned over. "Who's your master, child?"

"Feanor."

They all exchanged knowing glances. The gardener poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher. "You should be wary of him, girl - what's your name?"

"Gwen." They nodded. A young man looked at her intently, holding his corn on the cob. "What's it like, offworld?"

It seemed as though the entire table had eyes on her now, maids, cooks, cleaners. "Well - it is - was - nice. Really nice."

"Is it true that you've got automatic carriages there?" someone asked.

"Yes. But we don't have halflings, or dwarves, or floating lights."

Looks were exchanged. "But you were free," the gardener, Ned, said quietly.

She looked down at her food. "Yes. There was that." Then she reconsidered this. "That depends on your definition of free, I guess."

The butler set down his spoon in his soup bowl. "How so?"

"Well, it was an awfully dull existence. After I was done going to school at the age of eighteen, I'd leave my parents' house and go off to school for another four to eight years. Then, I'd get a job, most likely in an office, and do that for most of my life. Then, maybe, I'd retire from working and sit around the house until I die."

Now everyone was definitely looking at her. "That is most certainly better than what we do here," the butler sniffed. "We may work the same job our entire life, some illiterate, some doing manual labor, and get beaten for our troubles."

She winced. "That's true." She pursed her lips and went back to eating, as did others, conversations starting again.

When the meal was done, she helped clean up, unsure of what to do. Then she discreetly made her way upstairs to the bedrooms. There in the nursery the children were already present. Glin looked up from his blank canvas, Seer from her book, Chen and Bo from their puzzles, although Amy kept putting the pieces together. Gwen stood there, still uncertain, and broke the silence. "Well, I know we already met, but I don't think you learned my name. I'm Gwen."

The twins got up, as though to peer at her more closely. "Pleased to meet you," said one of them solemnly, while the other giggled behind his hand. She stooped down to his level, a smile playing across her face. "Why are you laughing?" she asked.

"Because you're so funny," he said, giggling louder. It made sense to a child, Gwen reasoned. The twins drew her over to the puzzle, which was decently complex. She helped the three of them put it together, until it was late enough that Amy fell asleep with her head on Gwen's lap. Seer got up, quietly closing her book and setting it on the couch. "Off to bed, you two," she said to the twins, herding them off to one of the bedrooms. Gwen picked up Amy, who was heavier than she looked, and followed Seer into the bedroom.

It was a plastered and wallpapered room, like Gwen's, which was a far cry from the wood Gwen was used to. She gently set Amy down in the crib, covering her gently with a blanket. The twins, each in their own bed stared at her as Seer reached for gas lanterns, turning them down nearly all the way. Then, after a chorus of goodnights, they closed the door.

Seer in turn picked up her book and retired to her room, and, taking the hint, Gwen did the same. She was fortunate to a have a substantially-sized window, which looked over the garden and the cityscape. As she turned down the gas lamps, luxuriating in the feel of a mattress and warming her cold toes under the blankets, the light through the window grew quietly brighter as her eyes adjusted to the dark. The white flakes drifted lazily by, illuminated by the street lamps. She stretched, smiling - ever since she was a child, staring up into the sky as snowflakes floated down, she felt as though she was rising through the air, rather than staying still. Her nose had just begun to go numb before the radiator clicked on, and she drifted off to sleep.

*

She woke up to see that the city was completely covered in snow - no trace of its dirtiness remained. She got dressed, then went out into the playroom, which was devoid of anyone, so she went downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast.

Some of the servants were already eating. Gwen helped herself to oatmeal from a steaming pot, seasoning it with some brown sugar. As she was eating, a hound nuzzled her leg, looking for treats. She looked under the table. "I don't think so," she told him, then resumed eating. The gardener sat down with his bowl across from her, with a nod.

"You comin' to the dance tonight?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, unsure if she'd heard him correctly.

"The dance."

"I'm afraid I don't know about it."

The gardener smiled, showing crooked teeth. "There's always dances around the city these weeknights. It's one of the few pleasures we're allowed together. Will you come?"

"If I can. Are others going?"

He rolled his eyes. "Only the entire household. Nine o'clock, down here in the kitchens. We'll all go together."

She nodded. Taking her bowl over to the sinks, she left to go upstairs before the children woke up. Seer was the first to come out, already looking pristine. Gwen figured that such a strong demeanor was simply a family trait. The girl smiled a little, then came over and sat down beside her, blushing. "I'm so glad you're here, really," she said shyly. "I'm glad Mother brought you over. It gets awfully lonely here."

"I'm happy to be here," Gwen said earnestly. "I've been treated so well here."

Seer looked down at her hands. "My parents try to treat Onlies the best they can. It's hard sometimes, because others don't view you the same way." She looked up, interested. "I heard you were born offworld. Is it true?"

Gwen nodded, to Seer's delight. "I've never been offworld," Seer said. "My father has, many times, but he's never wanted me along."

Gwen frowned. "Why is that?"

"He's very protective of us. He doesn't want me to get hurt. I'm also young. It would be difficult to get a permit."

"Permit for what?"

Seer looked at her and laughed. "To go offworld, of course. In order to leave and be able to board a ship, you have to have a permit issued by the Valar. Even the soldiers have to have them."

"I didn't know that you had explored other worlds."

Seer cocked her head, thinking. "Since we're unable to expand on our own world, the pioneers among us had to have somewhere to go. The Valar desired resources from other worlds, so we've set up trade routes. Of course, the army decided to conquer some worlds."

"You seem to know a lot about it."

Seer shrugged. "My father talks about it a lot." She looked around the room. "I'm surprised the twins aren't up yet."

"How do you normally wake them up?" Gwen asked. Seer rolled her eyes. "Sometimes we sing to them."

Gwen brightened. "I know the perfect song!" She got up, Seer following, and burst into the nursery.

"Way up in the sky, the little birds fly. Way down in the nest, the little birds rest.

With a wing on the left, and a wing on the right, the little birds sleeping all through the night.

Shhhh! They're sleeping!

The bright sun comes up! The dew falls about!

'Good morning, good morning!' the little birds shout!" 

Seer went and picked Amy up from her crib as the twins fought over what they were to wear that day. Together they traipsed down to the main dining room, with large windows that let in the ambient light, and a finely set table. Melian and Elwe were already there eating, silver clinking quietly against porcelain and glass. Gwen stopped short of going inside, once more unsure of what to do. The butler from the night before brushed past her, carrying a platter of something, then returned, frowning at her.

"What should I do?" she asked. "I feel so awkward."

"You wait here for the children," he said. "Life at many times consists of waiting." And so she did. She positioned herself to at least be able to see what was going on inside the dining room. The platter that the butler had brought in had held the mail; Elwe was opening it, frowning. He opened one letter, read it, and closed his eyes, as if in sadness. Without a word, he handed it over to his worried wife, who read it and pursed her lips.

"Since when have the Valar begun drafting?" she cried, frustrated. Chen looked up. "What's drafting?" he asked, suddenly serious. They explained the process to them, and Seer said quietly, "Glin's been drafted, hasn't he."

"Yes," her father said, equally as quiet. The rest of the meal was eaten in a somber mood.

*

Feanor sighed quietly. He was standing with about thirty other lottery servicers, in the Temple of Manwe on the top of Mount Taniquentil. Manwe was explaining their duties, and it was not like the duties he had performed before in the service of the Valar.

Since there was a greater volume of Elves at this point in time in the Blessed District, it was necessary for more people to keep tabs on them and to prevent them from sticking their noses where they shouldn't. The general aura of contentment that the Vala cast over the Blessed District was one that would prohibit Blooded Elves from noticing the Unblooded ones. For the sake of language and culture, Elves were needed for this task, not slaves.

It was the very nature of the lottery that placed Feanor in this situation - no Valar would have picked him for this job. He was incredibly lucky, he reflected. He had never seen the inside of the Blessed District. He was, however, aware of the protocols that were in place for arrivals. They were assigned a specific house to stay in during their time there. Feanor was assigned to keep track of the residents of one of the houses.

As he walked out into the brilliant sunlight (for the sun always shines on the Blessed District, no matter the weather. It had been postulated among the more scientifically-minded elves that this diversion of resources resulted in the desertification of the South and the generally turbulent weather patterns throughout Valinor.), he was amazed by the cleanliness of the District. The buildings were made of white stone, as were the streets, which were evenly paved and framed with flowers. He ran his fingers over the vibrant and soft petals - colors he rarely ever saw, even in the gardens of the affluent. He walked to the house indicated on his map and stopped before it, still marveling at the cleanliness of the streets.

 

Then he went in - the foyer decorated with bouquets atop polished wooden tables, and went into the great room, which was decorated with equal panache. Velvet sofas stood beneath toweringly great windows, and the pillars that held up the ceiling were decorated ornately. All was gold and airy glass. He went up the grand staircase and found his bedroom - a neatly made bed with white covers, a wardrobe, and a tall window. He looked at his list - the inhabitants were Gildor, one of those who had served Finrod when he was a lord of Elves in Middle-Earth, and Elrond, brother to Elros. An interesting group to keep track of, he thought. A small number. But then, he supposed, they were more likely to cause trouble than others.

Fortunately, he reflected, neither of them personally knew him either. If he had been assigned to one of the Noldor, there would have been problems. He winced a little. Hopefully he wouldn't run into Galadriel.

 He walked downstairs, hearing the sound of voices. Indeed, there they were, his charges, looking surprisedly at him. It was going to be a long month.

*

Glin stood in the bitter cold, breath rising in clouds as he clutched a small bag of goods. The entire staff and Elwe family stood there to bid him farewell. Elwe spoke to him sternly as Melian enveloped him in a great hug. Then Glin moved on to Seer, who hugged him tightly, weeping. Chen and Bo seemed rather clueless as to what was going on, as was Amy, but they gratefully accepted hugs from Glin.

In order to get out of the tense house, Gwen and Seer decided to take the children to the streets, even with a more limited knowledge now that Glin was gone. Seer was fortunate enough to have a strong handle on the four languages she needed to get by, and knew the more interesting places for children to visit.

After some argument, they decided on the Library and Hall of Records, which was, unfortunately, located on the complete other side of town, where Gwen had never been. They took a train, which ran parallel to the Great Wall and then ran around the mountain, over the Escher District. The twins marveled at the large spaceships, and Chen crowed, "Glin's going to ride in one of them!"

Gwen marveled once more at the great field of ships, now covered in a melting layer of snow - the outlines of those being built, and the smoke from the steel works behind it. Then they were beyond it, and she saw a part of the city she had never seen before - row upon row of identical brick apartment buildings - the ghettos for slave workers who worked in the factories. Gwen closed her eyes for a moment, and then they arrived at their stop. Stepping out of the station with the children, she glanced around, interested in the architecture around her. There was a great proliferation of universities in this area, and they wound their way past students changing classes to the faint ringing of a bell.

Then they arrived at the library - a winding maze of tall books. Seer let the young ones loose - they were apparently in no danger, and elves have a strong affinity for young children, so they would be looked after. The only problem would be finding them again, but, as Seer assured a worried Gwen, they wouldn't be hard to find. Seer was used to their favorite locations.

 

There appeared to be no rhyme or reason as to the organization of books - and as Gwen was still illiterate in terms of languages, she couldn't make heads or tails of it. The stacks were not straight, in fact they seemed to curve, forming spirals, mazes, labyrinths of books. Gwen followed Seer carefully, not wanting to get lost. "What do you want to know?" Seer asked Gwen, who considered this carefully.

"Family trees?" she ventured. "Bestiaries? Maps? Legends, perhaps, but I doubt they would be as readable."

Seer grinned. "Genealogy - that's important to know. There are intricate familial ties here..."

"Yeah - I mean, Feanor has sons, but he's the half-uncle of Finrod, and it gets awfully confusing."

They had to go downstairs for this, into a great network of unique rooms, each housing a different subject. It was fortunate for her, Gwen mused, that she had a guide who knew the surroundings. It seemed that rooms of one subject would connect to a room of a related subject, such that beneath the library was an elaborate labyrinth of books. They had to traipse up and down stairs, into rooms of startling variety in their decor. What most had in common was places to read - whether it was long wooden tables or cushions on the floor. All of the rooms were lit by Feanor's friendly lights, and many of those that they went through were already occupied.

A highly inefficient way of accessing books, Gwen thought, but one indicative of its culture. By far the majority of those who would be reading would be Elves, who, by default, are willing to take time in all aspects of life. If not, then the slaves who are looking would most likely be illiterate, and better able to find a book by its visual category than any other system." Why are there books upstairs, if this is the way books are categorized down here?" she asked.

"The books upstairs are the ones that are read or requested the most," Seer answered as they entered the genealogy room, which was decently crowded. There were books that were being worked on by scholars, actively scratching down new names and relations as children were born. A great tree grew in the center of the room, spreading out its branches over two stories of volumes. "Some say that the library is alive," Seer whispered to Gwen. "That it grows to accommodate new volumes and these trees. Some say there are even forests in the deep levels, with wild animals roaming freely. My mother wonders why I love it here  - but I love to explore these rooms. Even in all my time here, I've never met a dead end. I've even heard that the library has trapped people, moving walls to keep them inside, but I suspect it's a myth. Nevertheless, people have come in and never come out for a thousand years."

Gwen nodded solemnly. From what she had seen so far, she could believe it. "And you let the children loose in here?"

"They know better than to come down here," Seer said, laughing.

Most of the volumes were of the same color, by the first generation Elves whose families they represented. This was a more detailed genealogy than they needed, Seer explained. She instead went over to the honeycomb shelves that housed scrolls, looking at their tags and pulling one out. She rolled it out on one of the tables, showing the elegant Westron script that was quite similar to that of English, and easily enough read for names.

Intricate indeed, she thought as she browsed through names, most of which she did not know.

As the hours waned by and they traveled from room to room, looking in depth at maps of Valinor and Numenor, with Seer explaining the stories behind such places. They decided then to leave.

However, after walking a ways, Seer began to frown. "What's wrong?" Gwen asked.

"I'm unsure of where I am," she said. "And that's unusual." Gwen herself did not recall the room they were in, made of white marble with statues scattered amongst benches. Seer pursed her lips, looking worried. As usual, there were doors on all four sides of the room, and she was glancing at each of them, deep in thought. Then she strode confidently to another room, stopped, went back to the previous room, and tried another.

"You aren't making me feel better," Gwen said. Seer sighed. "We'll just have to try. It's the best we can do."

And so they went on. At one point they came to an orchard of fruit trees, and they gathered up their skirts, filling them with ripe fruit, just in case they were going to be down there for a while. Food might be scarce. Gwen was truly worried now, as they passed from room to room. There were no people to be seen now, and the lights had begun to dim with the onset of night. They found a room that was mostly dark, with stars that shone dimly from the ceiling. After eating, they fell asleep, exhausted.

*

Feanor jolted awake, his sheets wrapped tightly around him. All was dark and quiet, but something felt wrong. He lit a taper and walked into the hallway, noting that Elrond's door was open, moonlight streaming through. He rushed down the stairs, worried where the Elf had gone.

The past evening there had been a large party, grander than any he had seen in the upper districts. He had expected to sleep well, having tired himself from dancing, but his sleep had not been the same as nights past. Typically, Elves would relive memories as they slept, but Feanor's nightmarish memories were not present that night - instead, there was a confusing mash of stories, as vivid as through they were real.

He stumbled out into the cold night, eyes searching the well-lit streets. A guard, ceremonially carrying a spear, was walking past, guarding the wall. The lights of the city beyond were not visible past it, which worried Feanor, but he began jogging to look for his charge. He looked down every street, which had been laid straight for just such a purpose.

He found Elrond at the base of the Tower of Elwing, which soared upwards from the center of a plaza. Made of white stone, there were no windows except at the very top. Elrond was standing there, robes blowing in the faint breeze, staring at it, brooding.

Feanor sat on the bench beside him, buttoning his coat against the chill of the night. "What are you doing?" he asked, frowning.

Elrond didn't answer. He and the others were in complete thrall of the Valar, which always made Elves a bit less intelligent than usual. Feanor had never seen anything like it - he had heard tales of it, but he had never seen it up close. It was a disassociation, a disconnection from reality, eyes distantly focused. Even so, Feanor found it difficult to communicate with these Elves. Traditional Quenya and Sindarin were rarely spoken in common use, but were used for most high functions, and when they were used, there were slang words that had been picked up from Breech that were inserted every so often. The two languages had diverged slightly from Elvish as it was spoken in Middle-Earth, and this caused usage problems. Nevertheless, it was still possible to hold an easy conversation.

However, Elrond's eyes seemed clear, and even though he was distant, he was alert. Feanor understood why he was here. Elrond's mother, Elwing, was somewhere in that tower.

Finally he spoke, with clarity that Feanor did not expect to hear. "We were on the ocean when we saw his star fall."

Feanor sat forward. "You mean - the star of Earendil? That was nearly a month ago. I was unaware it took that long to cross the sea."

"Indeed." Elrond looked at him, then frowned. "Who are you? Pray tell, what is your name?"

"Feanor," he stated, expecting the normal reaction, the shrinking back, the hostile look, which he received. Elrond searched his face, puzzled. "That's impossible," he said.

Feanor raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon? All Elves can come back from the dead. It's not impossible."

"If you're back, then..."

"Then what?" Feanor demanded.

"....then the end of the world is here."

*

Gwen woke up suddenly, disoriented by her surroundings. She looked around, wondering what woke her up, and then realized that she could hear faint singing. She shook Seer, who sat up, hearing it as well. They quickly gathered up the remainder of the fruit, rushing in the direction of the singing, throwing open the door. They ran through rooms towards the sound of potential escape, until Seer grabbed her arm, stopping her short. "Did you hear that?" Seer hissed.

They were in a room lit by a single electric bulb - the first she had seen yet in Valinor - and the room's books were in large floor-to-ceiling shelves. Gwen strained to hear anything aside from the singing, and then she heard it - an animal snarl, the faint sound of movement. Her heart skipped a beat. "We'll be safer if we stick together," Seer murmured, then led her down one of the rows. Gwen cast around looking for the exit they needed to take - a fair distance away, especially since Seer was pulling her away from it, and away from that nasty sound.

Glass cases were scattered around the room, holding various types of swords. Seer pursed her lips. "We could use a sword now," she whispered. Gwen thought for a moment, then heaved a large book off the shelf, smashing the glass of the nearest case. There was a howl behind them - the beast was getting closer. Seer grabbed a sword, pulling it from its sheath, and Gwen did the same. "We really should split up," she said breathlessly. "It's coming for us. We could confuse it - " Seer nodded, and they ran in different directions, looking down the rows of bookshelves.

Gwen stopped next to one of the bookcases, out of breath. She hadn't seen the monster yet, and she hadn't heard any more noises that gave a clue to its whereabouts. Then she heard the snarl right behind her, and her stomach twisted as she turned to face it. It sprang at her, and she barely had enough time to see the flash of another sword before she deflected it, pushing it to the side.

"Seer! Help!" she cried, but the monster was on her once more, striking at her, and she awkwardly parried its blows. Then she got through, feeling the sword slice through flesh. The monster screamed, and Gwen nearly did the same. Seer arrived just in time to see the creature drop to the floor. She walked over to it, nudging it with her foot to see if it was, indeed, dead. After confirming this, she walked over to Gwen, who had dropped to her knees. "It's alright. It's dead."

Gwen was pale. "I- I've never done anything like that before. Killing." She shakily looked at the body. "What is it?"

Seer's grey eyes looked over the body. "I can't be sure. I've never seen anything like it, but I've heard enough about them. I do believe it's an orc."

"I remember Ulmo saying something about them breeding in the sewers."

"In that case, we should be very careful from here on out. It is most likely that's how he got in here. That's very disturbing - I was under the impression that orcs were left in Middle-Earth." Seer helped Gwen to her feet, then took her sword. "You need to clean this. My father showed me how - I've never had the occasion to so before." She cleaned it, then retrieved the sheathes. "We may as well keep them. We've used them in battle now, so we have the potential to claim them. I don't know whose they are, but they obviously have no need of them, if they're stored here."

They opened the room's door, which led to a black expanse. From the doorway a hanging bridge crossed to platforms that held shelves of books, hanging by ropes from the ceiling, obscured by the darkness. The singing was coming from this room - echoing around them - a young man's voice, hearty and strong. The bridge swayed unsteadily as Gwen started to cross it, but they made it to the platform. "Shall we split up?" Seer asked, and Gwen nodded. They crossed separate bridges to different platforms around the room. Gwen looked around hers frantically - she knew she was close to the origin, she knew it - and saw the source of the song.

It was not a person, as she had expected from the voice. Rather it was a leopard of sorts, but different than one she had seen before, with long hair, white coat with black spots, and a longer tail. It was sitting contentedly, as cats do, singing to itself. When it saw her, however, it stopped, raising its eyebrows. "Why, hello there," it said.

Gwen jumped back, startled. She heard Seer yell, "Did you find him?" and come running up beside her. "It talks," Gwen said to her softly. Seer rolled her eyes. "Of course he does! I keep forgetting you're not from around here."

"She's not?" the beast asked, cocking his head and looking at her curiously.

"No, she's not," Seer said firmly, "but do you know the way out of here?"

The leopard nodded. "Oh, good," Gwen said, relieved.

"What's your name?" Seer asked the great cat, whose tail was swishing in irritation. "Amrod," he said, and stood. "Follow me."

As they walked on the swaying bridges, Gwen spoke up. "So - what are you, Amrod? I'd think you were a leopard, but I must be wrong."

"Indeed. I'm a snow leopard - but normally I'm an Elf. I've been punished by the Valar, and forced to take this form."

He was tall, up to her waist, and led them to a doorway, which opened up to a forest. Gwen was amazed at how large this library was. The forest was not unlike those she had seen in Maine - and they padded through over moss and dirt. A white stag suddenly bolted across their path, and they heard the reverberation of a horn. A group of hounds tore across their way, tongues lolling, and they heard the sound of hoofbeats, a bright host of Elves in bold pursuit. Then they were gone, deep into the forest.

"They've been here longer than I have," said Amrod.

"They were Blooded," Seer said ponderously. "I wonder why that is."

"They have been far from the influence of the Valar. Perhaps lack of contact with them has led to their continuance in that form."

A few rooms later, they came to a dead end. "This is remarkable," Amrod said. "I'm familiar with this section of the library, and this has never been here before."

The only way out was a door, which Gwen opened and found a winding staircase that led upwards, which they took. Onward and upward it spun, and Gwen's legs began to ache. "Where could this possibly go?" she asked. Amrod paused, thinking. "I have no idea. It might be a direct way out."

And so they climbed. Before long, there were small slits in the walls, which let in faint moonlight. Seer peered through one of them and gasped. "We're above ground!" she said.

"Where?" Gwen tried to peer over her shoulder.

"I have no idea. I've never seen this part of the city."

The staircase began to wind wider and wider, and before long, a door appeared on one of the side walls. Gwen pushed it gently open, revealing a kitchen of sorts, bare and dusty. Slits let in the faint moonlight, and Gwen shivered suddenly. What was this place? It looked as though no one had been there for a while. She glanced at Seer, who was frowning. "What?"

"There's only one place in the city that I think we could be."

Amrod sniffed around a bit. "And where would that be?"

"The tower in the Blessed District."

Amrod looked up quickly. "No - the Tower of Elwing?"

"It must be."

Gwen frowned. "In the Blessed District?"

They both nodded. Seer closed her eyes. "I've never seen the Blessed District, and to be in it...wow."

They left the room as it was, climbing higher, passing doors. Eventually they reached the end of the staircase - a trapdoor in the ceiling. Seer opened it as Amrod leapt up, onto the floor. They followed, scattering birds left and right.

They were at the top of the tower, a roof covering them, panoramic openings showing a dizzying view of the city below them. The floor was covered in feathers, stuck to the thick layer of dried guano. There were tables with various items on them, a fireplace in the center of the room, and a woman, staring out across the city.

 The wind swept through, ruffling the feathers. She turned towards them - black hair, pale skin. What was most shocking, however, were her eyes - completely white. She was blind. She wore a white dress, with a faded blue velvet mantle studded with pearls like stars. They stood there, somewhat in shock, as the sky began to lighten from dawn.

 

"I heard you come up," she said softly, "No one has been up here for thousands of years."

Gwen started, astonished. "How is it you know English?"

She smiled wanly. "The birds know many things, and I have much time to learn from them." She walked over to the fire, pulling out a kettle and pouring tea for them. "Forgive me," she said, "I have no chairs. I don't normally expect visitors." Gwen took the cup, grateful for the warmth seeping into her fingers. Seer took a sip, and said, "Forgive me, but why are you..."

"Blind?" Elwing said with a gracious smile. "I've spent thousands of nights searching the sky for my husband, and once a month he comes close enough to earth that I am able to fly up and meet him. Nevertheless, the brilliance of his craft is great enough to blind. I am still able to see him - the bright Silmaril cuts through all darkness." Her hands tightened, clutching her dress. "I saw him fall. Have you heard any word? Perhaps our exile is over at last."

Seer shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not."

Gwen was puzzled. "Forgive me - perhaps this is a stupid question. How exactly do you fly to meet your husband?"

Elwing smiled again, and in answer drew her mantle off her shoulders, revealing white wings attached to her shoulders. Seer laughed at Gwen's wide eyes.

"Why can't you just fly free from here?" Gwen blurted out, still startled by what she saw.

"If I deviate from my course, my wings, which are given to me by the Valar, would disappear and I would plunge to my death."

"Wouldn't that be better than this? I mean, you could....live again."

Seer rolled her eyes. "Do the words 'eternal torture' mean anything to you?"

Gwen frowned. "There must be an awful lot of people down there."

Elwing nodded. "It's a profession, torturing. The Halls of Mandos ring with cries of pain." She cocked her head, thinking." How did you get here?"

Amrod spoke up. "A door at the bottom of the stair, via the library."

Elwing shook her head. "That's impossible. That door was sealed by the Valar."

Seer and Gwen looked at one another. "It's worth a shot," Amrod said. Downward they plunged, running their fingers along the walls, nearly tripping over their skirts. When they reached the door, Seer took hold of the handle, pulling with all her strength. It didn't budge.

Elwing also tried, but it didn't move. They sighed collectively. Seer leaned against the wall, exhausted. "We're stuck in here as well," Amrod said quietly. "It's my fault - I lead you in here."

"No," said Gwen, "I opened the door."

The three of them looked at her. "You haven't tried," Seer pointed out.

Gwen walked past them and pulled at the door, which opened easily. She walked out into the library, and they followed her out. She turned, but Elwing was unable to see the change of scenery.