Tianwen·Magweth Pengolodh

"

Pengolod evaded the reply: "Your ceremony reminded me how lucky I am to still be standing here watching. I participated in the Great War."

"Looking at your calm and handsome appearance now, it's unbelievable! I have a theory, that is, Ru has a purer and more noble creative impulse for you."

Pengolod took a breath, feeling both over-praised and insulted as a warrior.Memories of the latest war flashed through his mind.He could only think of himself being dismounted by three Oklahs and dragged into the quagmire. Those guys smelled strongly of body odor and rotten fur, and how he was struggling fiercely, stabbing swiftly, covered in mud and furious. Tiandi saved his life, and his hands were stung by their black blood.But he restrained himself and didn't make a sound.The man before him was a king.

Again, the king didn't notice his silence: "Come! Meet our queen first, my wife. See, there she is, surrounded by beautiful maids, and she herself is as beautiful as one of your ladies .Talynya, dear, come and meet a member of the fair race."

The woman sitting on the bench surrounded by a group of girls in white stood up and smiled.She had an austere beauty, taller than Pengolod like Tar-Minastir, but she was only a little taller.She was also much like her husband in another way—mortal aging had affected her.When she smiled and said hello, lines appeared on her face and around the corners of her eyes.The queen's eyes were clear, but she looked at Pengolod sadly and distantly. Instead of looking into his eyes, she glanced at his skin.Then, she forced her face to return to calm, and raised her head, but her expression was a little sad. "My lord, welcome to Armenelos." She said solemnly, "These girls, who are as beautiful as I used to be, come from the five corners of our island country: Nessameerda, Mallon, Lairiloxer, Alan Neal, Laurenque."

The five young girls stood up and curtsied one by one, looking at Pengolod with some curiosity and some awe.The last was obviously the most striking of the group, the most imposing and confident, but the least curious.Ms. Laurinque has golden-red hair and wears a long dress that is as simple as an elf, and there is no sign that Pengolod has rejected her at Romenna Pier.Pengolod's eyes widened, and he took a step back involuntarily.

"I can see that you have been impressed by Laurinque's beauty," said the queen, a little pride returning to her voice.

Pengolod managed to calm down: "Your Majesty, who can not be moved by such a beautiful girl?"

Laurinque bowed again. "Perhaps an Eldar would not. Never heard such a tale," she whispered, gouging him. "But all the stories say you are decent Venerable chaste race. Welcome to Armenelos."

Minas Tier was very happy to hear this conversation: "Honey?" He asked his wife to hold his arm and walked towards the banquet hall.Laurin Kui walked beside Pengolod, but she didn't look sideways, her chin was raised proudly like a queen, and when she thought Pengolod wasn't paying attention, she raised the corners of her mouth and showed a smug smile.

He thought: Welcome to Armenelos—isn't it.

After the first night, Pengolod realized that what he had to do here was not fundamentally different from what he had to do when he was boarding at Alfwine - he would have food and lodging, be popular, provided he Provides lore of the elves.What Alfwine gave him, the King gave generously, and he did his best to give back.From the first night when a courtier thrust a harp into his hand, he sang ancient songs every night.Yet the differences between his two mortal landlords far outweighed the similarities, just as there was a great gulf between King Tar-Minastir and the scholar Pengolod.Pengolod still often found himself with nothing to say around Minastir, except for mechanical responses.In the face of blind worship, what should one say, what should one say?He swallowed back half the lore he knew, lest he should shatter the illusions that the Númenóreans liked to believe.

It was also on that day that he was caught in a dilemma.Minas Tir would have liked Pengolod to praise all that was Númenor, old and new.Previously, other nobles (and possibly trusted servants, some of whom had more power than any landed lord in Númenor) had given Pengolod a tour of the city of Armenelos, including the stables, the newer and the library; and Pengolod dutifully praised these every night.It wasn't hard; mortals made the most of the gift-giving grounds.And Minas Tir, claiming to be negligent, personally showed Pengolod the most important family heirloom of the kingdom.

Then Pengolod saw the only weapons in the peaceful halls of Armenelos, some of which he had ever seen, such as Tuor's axe--not wrapped in a greasy fur, as in the Vale of Sirion, Instead, it comes in a custom gold inlaid leather case.Minas Tier was overjoyed to hear Pengolod remember Tuor, and drew his sword Aranruth from the ivory scabbard, and let him see if the runes on it could be translated. "I am the weapon of King Thingol's wrath," Pengolod read aloud, but did not finish the translation, leaving behind the meaning of the runes that followed: "My Maker, Eol." See At this line of writing, he just felt cold all over his body.Hours later, he didn't know whether he was prudent or cowardly in not mentioning the brutal swordsmith to Minas Tier—a kinslayer tainted with madness, but an elf.

When the last treasure was properly put away and put back in its place, Minastir looked a little taller: "When I was younger, I thought that as one of the descendants of the Elros family, I could spend most of my time Spent in the lore of the elves. You know, I did not think then that I should be King of Númenor."

At Pengolod's urging, Minas Tier explained: "Tal-Telperion—may the Valar bless her—has lived to reign extraordinarily long. She is ready to surrender the scepter At the time, my sister was past the age of vigor—even for the line of Elros—and she declined. I accepted the scepter because…” He sighed deeply, “I should Do it. I'm much younger." Pengolod almost bit his tongue, annoyed by his own curiosity.You can't ask a king if his parents ever quarreled, or if there was a dead sibling in between. "When I became king, I found that I had a lot of ideas. Why can't Númenor become Avaloni relative to Middle-earth? I have been working hard to improve the fate of our people and make them more like elves."

"I've never been to Avalonne, but as I said before, I'm extremely impressed with both Romenna and Armenelos. There's a lot of new buildings here, all very well built. Practical... business . . . ah, it can be seen that it is carefully designed." The management of the sewer system of Númenor, enforced by the king's legislation, is very similar to the arrangements made by the picky elves, and it is better than any mortal dwelling that Pengolod has seen. place.He tried to bring the inappropriate subject back on track: "Let me be blunt, Tar-Minastir, you have succeeded. This is the most beautiful mortal realm I have ever seen in my life."

Tar-Minastir bowed his head a little, and said with his proud humility: "I am only doing what I can. I hope my son will not make my mistakes. He knew from birth that One day he's going to be king. After he won the big fight, I have full confidence in him."

That says a lot, Pengolod thought.

Fortunately, Minas Tir was invited away afterwards, and Pengolod was able to do what he had been longing to do during his stay - bury his head in Minas Tir's library.He was glad to have been summoned by the king earlier, for that way he could coax the mortal scholars into showing him some of the writings of the never-crowned King Valdamir Norimon.He was the son of Erros, who would have been the second king of Númenor, but he was famous for his love of books and learning.Norimon was old when Elros abdicated and gave up his life.He also gave the scepter to another relative - his son.

For a moment, Pengolod wondered whether it was good or bad for kings to do so.Tar-Minastir could have taken the time, as the generous Norrimon did, to draw witty illustrations for the books he loves to make.Norrimon's fate pleased him, but Tar-Minastir's somehow both pleased and regretted it.It's not that he's unfit to be king, but he compares himself and his subjects to elves over and over again, sowing the stubborn seeds of envy.But Pengolod was too busy remembering the fascinating writings of Norimon to be troubled by these thoughts for long.When it was time for dinner, he walked briskly to the banquet hall, but stopped suddenly at the door.

A new figure attracted the attention of the people in the hall, changing the atmosphere.Cirjatan is back.His bright Romanna garb and red beard stood out in Armenelos, rebellious and new in a pastel-coloured, elven-like atmosphere.Minastir stands