Tianwen·Magweth Pengolodh

spoil your appetite. "

"Not at all, Fingon. It is a relief that there are so many people who are tired of being polite today."

They both laughed, but Maedhros didn't. "I didn't mind being more blunt with you, but I was corrected. It was not a good thing to do during a meal." He nodded to his friend.They spoke of the past, and afterward Rumir retold the story of Feanor that I told you.Maedhros listened intently, for Feanor was his father.The three of them left early so that Maedhros could consult with Rumir in private, and we assistants were free.Lodendil invited me to come with him.I learned this enough that night: the men of the sons of Fëanor feasted and celebrated as fervently as they upheld the oath of their lord.It was early morning when I got back to the room.

Rumil didn't scold me when I staggered in early in the morning.He was looking out through the narrow window of the guest room. "Ah, you're back. I just got back myself. I hope you've had a good time celebrating—that's what I'd do if I still had that pre-year-old face and dancing feet." I blushed in embarrassment and asked if he needed anything. "No. Or rather, what I want is not what you can give me." He sighed. "My former student was right. He is more sure of himself now, but only in a certain way. Fei Of Ainor's seven sons, he inherited his father's charm. He and I, we both had the madness of facing Morgoth, and we have all changed since then, and we have all suffered great losses. I lost my The good looks I had, my flesh is ruined," said Rumir, with bitterness of acknowledgment, "and Maedhros lost his mirth. I have a feeling that would cripple him even more. But I can't explain why." He came back to his senses, looked at me and said, "Drink some water and go to rest. I have to think about it." When I woke up, it was already daylight, and his eyes were still reflected in the window. figure.He was brooding, but didn't intend to say much about his thoughts.

After that, 12 years passed quickly.I'm not so much a student of Rumir, but more like his assistant.There is a lot to do.It was then that I learned most of my clerical skills, a skill that served me well for a long time to come.Gondolin is about to be completed, which means that there are countless actual files and official documents to be completed.Little by little, our people are being censused and sent to new places of residence so that their departure will not be discovered by the spies of the evil Enemy.We packed our bags and swapped items we didn't need for items we could take with us.

Rumir was among the last to leave, both because of his weakness, and because he was the best man to receive the other messengers and at the same time keep Turgon's secret.I stay with him.How vividly I remember those peaceful nights in Vinyama.He told me a lot of stories; we played games of word knowledge; we argued sometimes, but purely out of defense of our points of view, not out of inner animosity.As the winter wore on, he said to me one night: "A great task awaits us in Gondolin. King Turgon demands that the city have the best library in Middle-earth. Though you are young, I think you are as qualified for the job as any member of Rumbe Ingemo, and this journey is your chance to prove yourself. If you succeed in the task-care of the most precious manuscripts and scrolls, manage this huge army. the traveling party and the chores it provides—then there will be no objection in the New City when I declare you a true scholar.” I began to express my gratitude, but Rümil interrupted me: “Son , I do not know why you bless me, but I have set you a difficult task, when digging stones for Morgoth seems easy in comparison. Bring the wine, and fill us both. We won't take it on the road; it's our duty to drink it up!"

I drank several glasses of wine that night, but I still realized that Rumir did this not only to recognize the hard work and talents I possess, but also to motivate me to do the difficult work in front of me.Rumir brought a fair amount of cunning out of Angband, and he wasn't too lofty to refuse to use his position to help those he liked. (He had asked me to encourage my family—my parents and sister—to be among the first to settle in Gondolin, saying it would improve their standing in the city. They went.) I weighed the For what it's worth, I decided to accept it over my fourth glass of wine.The next morning, the task still looked good, so I got to work despite the pain in my head.

Three months later, in mid-spring, the last brigades were leaving.I don't think I've been idle all this time.Turgon is back, and everything must be done to the best of our ability, and to be brought to a close.Some of my boyhood friends remained here, but I seldom saw them until the last afternoon when Voronwe came to me with Ellen Marchier in tow.I can occasionally chat with Ellen Makir, because he serves in the most trusted royal guard at Vinyamar Palace.Voronwe is more difficult to come across.His father was one of the first artisans sent to build Gondolin, but Voronwë remained at Nevrast, and had quietly passed from forging ship's candlesticks to a sailor's trade.He's been at sea for a long time, yet he greets me as if we parted yesterday: "Pangolod, nice to meet you." Then he asks, "Before I go, can you do me a favor?"

I was so frantically busy that I didn't feel like helping until I heard what Voronwe was going to do.What he went on to say was typical Voronweian—making an impractical idea into a noble poetic act.He had been unsure what to do with one of the small boats his family owned, a ketch, because he was reluctant to abandon it.It is also moored in a tree-lined inlet, and will likely remain there.It was too late to sail it to the south coast to change it and return, and its keel was too deep for the shallow waters of the Great Sirion.In addition, Voronwe has been troubled recently, and he does not want to leave the seaside where his mother died.He wants to comfort her soul before he goes.To this end, he intends to cover the boat she sailed with flowers and let it float freely into the sea.Am I willing to help with this?

Who wouldn't help an elf comfort his mother?I agreed, but that meant I had to toil long and late into the night.Voronwe swore on his own honor that a few hours before sunset would suffice.

I can see from your expression that you don't think such things as picking flowers are manly.Remember, though, that we were honoring an elf woman, and picking off enough flowers to cover the deck was actually so destructive that I had to give Yavanna a libation later that night.While we were busy, the three of us rediscovered some of our childhood camaraderie.Ellen Marcher was as competitive as ever, aiming to bring back the most flowers.While we were bringing bouquets of flowers, Voronwe was distracted again and began arranging them in beautiful designs on board.For me, the task of walking around the valleys and gardens of Vinyama, where I played as a child, in search of flowers became a personal farewell to my life in Nevrast.

By sunset the silver-grey decks were carpeted with flowers, sweet-smelling irises and lilacs, and boughs of cherry and apple-blossom, twined round the mast and round the bow.When all was settled, Voronwe got into the boat, and walked carefully among the flowers, setting the sails as if to fill the wind.After he disembarked, the skiff swayed a little for a moment, though the sails were almost down, and drifted smoothly into the water until it was caught by the cable.It was supernatural, as if a sailor's spirit was at the helm.Neither of us said a word while Voronwe undid the cable and let it slip out of his palm and into the water.

The three of us quietly watched the boat full of flowers drift away.As I watched, I felt a sudden pang of heartache stirred up by my friend's grief and my own sudden uneasiness, and at that moment I wondered if that city of rocks was at all worthy of the only home I'd ever known Nevlast is worth every penny.It was low tide, and the waves dyed golden by the setting sun brought the boat straight to the west.Voronwe's voice broke the silence, and he sang a string of words that came to him unexpectedly, his last chants fading away as the sun sank below the sea level.

Ellen Marcher patted him on the arm and said, "Good job, my friend. Surely we should be going? We're leaving early tomorrow morning." Voronwe went with us, but he Very slowly, and constantly looking back.

I let Ellen Maquier stride forward, and said to Voronwe, "You have relatives on the southern coast, and the people of Cirdan will not reject you, and you were born a sailor. Therefore, I I have to ask, why did you go to Gondolin, which is far inland?" Leaving the sea gilded by the setting sun, and the flower boats have also left, I feel that my work is urging me again, and the road that takes me The road to Gondolin looked attractive again.But even with all the stories about the bright future of Gondolin, I still don't think Voronwe, who loves the sea, would be happy there.

Voronwe picked up a