Isilya, the 54th day of Tuilë
What a bewildering array of sights and meetings the past few weeks have been - from Imladris to Lindon, and back again. Tancamir was right, I dearly needed the change of scenery. First we passed west through the hills of Nenuial, after leaving the lands around the Bruinen. I have never seen my brother so happy as when we were camped on the banks of the lake, I writing away about the herbs and flowers I had seen in the woods around, he sprawled on the grass gazing idly at the blue sky above. I suppose that the love of the Wild, and of things that live free and unhindered, is in his blood much as the love of music and letters is in mine. He spoke to me of Annúminas, the great city of Men now lying in ruin at the south of the lake. I wonder what sorts of treasures are hid within the ruins - artifacts of no use to bounty-collectors, but of great interest to a scholar, perhaps. Yet we had no time to ponder this, as we only stayed two nights by the lake, before Tyelco said we must set off for Lindon.
Lindon - the Land of Song, which I know well from my many visits there on business for the Library. Yet this time it was different, for I had no pressing duties, no daily meetings to attend with a conclave of scholars, no tasks awaiting me every morn. We called on an old friend of Tyelco's the first day we were there - a sail-weaver by the name of Ningloriel. Tyelco tells me that she was the older sister of his dear friend Falasgil, who had been like a brother to him while he lived in Lindon. She is the most charming and gracious hostess, and though we stayed in the inn a few streets away, she insisted that we take the evening meal with her and her family every day we were in Lindon. Her husband Súlrohir is a shipwright and sailor , who was away at sea while we visited. They have a little daughter, Súlivrin, who is only a year old, but the most delightful and intelligent child. It has been so long since I have seen young children- they are so few in Imladris now. I brought a book of letters for her, from Imladris - the very Primer on the Fëanorian letters from which I learned to read.
We stayed in Lindon for little more than six days, I occupying my mornings with research on my own in the library. I managed to find a few healing texts written in Beleriand, which mentioned the treatment of spider venom, and filled up half a note-book with my notes. I hope they will be of use. Afternoons, I would often call on Ningloriel in her shop, and play with her little daughter as she worked. I can see that Tyelco cares for Ningloriel very much, in his own way. He would often already be hanging around the shop when I arrived, helping her move crates or sort inventory. There is a lovely fountain south of the Market Square, where tame swans live, and Súlivrin loved to drag me there by one chubby hand, insisting that we feed the swans. She is a beautiful, inquisitive little thing, with bouncing golden curls and blue eyes, and for a few moments I wished she was my own, and that I could steal her away to Imladris. But such thoughts passed, and I felt it would be best to enjoy her company with the time I had.
Tyelco was much occupied with the construction of a new bow, a 'recurve' he told me, using two pieces of whale-bone that had been a gift from Ningloriel. I have no idea how fast he worked, but he said the bow would be done in several days, and it was more than half finished when we left Lindon. We took our leave of Ningloriel and of Lindon, both in high spirits, and made a quick journey of it back to the lands near the Bruinen. We were two days' journey from Imladris, when we met some unexpected friends in the woods east of the Mitheithel. Rangers of the North - apparently one of them was acquainted with my brother. He had been among them, I remember him telling me. Ruinel was one of their kind - he had loved her, in his own way, I am sure of it. I for one had never met Dúnedain this closely, and was happy to see that they did not regard us with overt suspicion. We were blindfolded, as per their custom, and led to their encampment at Esteldín.
I found their company more delightful than I had anticipated. They may be a grim, dour folk, but they have their share of lore and learning as well. Tyelco went off with a captain of their people, Arandor by name, talking about the watch upon the lands, and of the situation in the Coldfells. Some young archer, with a sulking face and dark hair, stabled our horses, muttering about 'elf-folk' under his breath. It was late in the afternoon, and I had a bag full of herbs and notes to sort through before taking the evening meal.
There was a lore-master among the three Rangers we met in the wood, Saelrein by name. He was very kind, in a gruff and fatherly sort of way, and has quite an excellent grasp of both the elven-tongues. We conversed in Sindarin about all sorts of things. He keeps the records of the Kings, and of the lands before, when they were part of the kingdom of Arnor. I was surprised to see that the Rangers even possessed a sort of library, occupying a room in the ruins where they had made their haven. It is hard to believe that he devotes his life to preserving the records of things which I was alive to see - indeed I was a young child when the kingdoms of the Dúnedain in the North were in their prime. I said as much to him, and he replied with a wry smile,
"To each kindred Eru has given a different gift, híril. What you have seen in your life-time is ancient history for my kin. It may be that by looking through different eyes, we can shed more light on the past."
He was also an herb-master of considerable knowledge, and we shared notes about the plants we had found in the surrounding forests, and their uses in medicine and other matters. We stayed among the Dúnedain for two days, and then made our way toward the Bruinen, and home. And now, as I write this, I am again at my desk in Imladris, looking out over the Valley I love so dearly. I cannot thank Tyelco enough, for taking me along on the journey, for I feel refreshed as I have not been in a long time, and ready to face whatever my duties to Bar-en-Vanimar might be.
