~Menelya, Coirë 23~
Winter has come and is almost gone now. It was not harsh, but nevertheless, elves seemed not to come forth from their homes to see their friends and loved ones this season. Thus, it falls upon a poor courier such as me to deliver all their letters instead! Yes, all the miles these elves could have spent traversing the road on a winter’s day were spent plodding along the landscape of letter parchment with ink from scores of ink bottles instead. Imagine then, the great weight I had to bear, walking with bundles and bundles of letters. They must have been letters of love, heartbreak, and loneliness…all emotions that can consume countless sheets. What other reason could there be for such extravagant use of letter paper and ink? ...unless some elf wrote an inventory of the entire market of Celondim as a letter!
2 large cabbages
5 round pumpkins
3 pairs of dainty slippers
And on and on it would go…I certainly can think how such a task would have wasted bundles of parchment.
Yet, my brother tells me that we should be thankful for the duties we bear for the good of our kin. How would one stay entertained without stories from their friends when they are busy repairing worn out sailors’ clothes and ships’ sails? How might a tailor predict the latest decorative patterns to incorporate in their dresses without gleaning the latest observations from their trusted sources on clothing trends? How could one know how much their bosom friend missed them while they were away for travels? Letters are very important, you see. So I am glad I am of service to my kin.
It was after one such busy day of delivering letters that I came upon a dwarf searching for an ale house in Celondim! He must have lost his way from the dwarven halls to the north, I thought. Yet, I found that he did not mind having wine instead. I shared with him a fine white vintage – the kind that is so typical to find here and is almost filled with the taste and lightness of sea foam! It is a specialty of us elves who still reside beside the sea. I had never met a dwarf who could appreciate our wines, until this one. They always complained of how it was not stout or hearty enough! They are too used to their ale. And yet, master Thrymli, for that was his name, had no trouble emptying his glass each time I refilled it.
I had been hoping to come across some dwarven folk at the market this week, but I had to miss it, for it is held in the afternoon when letters abound and my duties call. Thus, I was happily surprised to find one still venturing around Celondim. He was a traveling dwarf – one accustomed to slaying beasts without armor and only his hands…or so he says. I am not sure I believe the lack of armor to be wise. Yet, he pointed out that animals have no armor, so why should he? And I really had no answer to that. Though, I advised that wearing armor might extend the length of his life.
And would you know it? Master Thrymli had an answer for that as well! He said death was not really the end. Now, of course, that is something us elves are familiar with, since our fëar eventually pass into the Halls of Waiting in Aman, but did I expect such an answer from a mortal dwarf? Surely, I thought death was really the end for their mortal race? However, master Thrymli revealed to me that this was not so. He and his dwarven brethren believe that when they die, they go onto the halls of their fathers, where there is food, drink, and no end to play. I told him that it sounded like a fine place to go, and I understood then why he did not fear death.
Then I told him of our Undying Lands across the sea, where neverending joy and rest without grief or hurt awaited us. And do you know what he said to that? He asked if it was possible to experience such delight without first knowing sorrow! Well, I had no answer to that, either. Imagine, a dwarf, questioning an elf on the nature of their immortal existence! Well, I told him that surely, that, must be the true blessing of the Undying Lands. For here in Arda, our happiness may be made brighter by our sufferings, but perhaps in Aman, you may certainly experience the prior without the latter. In the end, he remarked that it was a pity we would never truly know each other’s experiences since we would not be able to send letters to one another from the halls of his fathers or Aman. Would it not be nice if we could send and receive letters from our kin across the Sea? I think it would be pleasant to undertake the delivery of such letters. Do you think in Aman, they write letters to one another? Will they have need of a courier such as me?
Master Thrymli was an intriguing dwarf to say the least. I left him the rest of our wine as a present and told him that I hoped we would meet again.
