I have always been drawn towards libraries. It is perhaps the curse of having a beloved 'Adar' who is also a respected 'Ist'eron' of a great city. In this place of Dol Amroth, it comforts me to be close to to a place that houses knowledge, however limited it may be.
The twilit sky was just darkening as a group of young scholars burst from the library doors like a herd of rampaging bullocks. I shrank back into the shadows as they passed, laughing and red-faced with excitement now that their day's toil was ended. There was one, taller than the rest who shrank back from raucous laughter. One of his fellows turned back and called to him,
"Hurry, Gil....Dinaeris dances tonight!" The young man laughed, his beard bristling.
Gil (for I assume that was his name, at least in part) shook his head and slumped his tall frame against the pillar above the library steps. The tassel upon the hat he wore waved with the motion of his head. He raised his hand and motioned for his friend to go on.
"Ha! Suit yourself..." and the bearded young man turned and jogged towards the Harper's Court.
I drew closer, so that I could see the face of this one who chose the dancing of the stars above the dancing of a beautiful girl. He wore no beard. Indeed, his face was as smooth as a young child's. I tried to glimpse his eyes from where I stood in the shadows but his hat flopped down over his forehead. I looked at the hat he wore. It was soft and grey and looked rather like a mushroom. Upon the canvas of my imagination, my mind busily painted the image of a halfling making great leaps to try and snatch it off his head. I quickly thought of something else, lest I laugh out loud and betray my presence. Once more I concentrated my gaze upon his face, and suddenly I understood. Stepping up quietly, I said in elvish
"You do not join with your friends..."
The tall figure straightened, but did not turn. He answered in perfect Sindarin,
"No, I do not."
"Yet you remain in this place?"
He turned to face me, his clear, blue eyes reflected in the night sky.
"You have seen the place that once was Edhellond?" he asked in return.
"Yes."
"Then you know much of why I remain..." He turned away from me and gazed into the stars.
I longed to hear more of his story, yet it was clear he would not speak of it. Not here, and not to a stranger ...even one of his own race. I thought a moment, then spoke again.
"If you grow weary of this...find me. There is a way that even the sorrows of past times can be lessened, if we but permit it."
He said nothing, but sighed deeply.
I turned to leave him to his solitude then paused, saying,
"Goheno nin...im Gladaewen. Boe annin gwad, dan na lû e-govaned vîn...ollo vae."
His voice came over the evening breeze,
"Im Gilfinduir."
* "Forgive me..I am Gladaewen. I must leave, but until we meet again...dream well."
