It was a few of days after Vanimar’s meeting at the Pillar, a meeting that saw Lady Manadhlaer bestowed with the responsibility and office of Lady of the Pillar, an order no longer leadership. It had been heart-warming to see Manadhaler, humble and almost moved to tears, receive the insignia of her new office from the Lady Ambassador Tingruviel, acting upon Lord Anglachelm’s directive. Ealendil felt so proud and happy for her friend.
Ealendil had come, out of curiosity, out of genuine interest in finding out if there was any scholarly works that could help her in her own studies, the Pillar being an order she had had little contact with before.
She had asked Lady Tingruviel about the song of creation, Ainulindalë, and had been struck utterly speechless as Sorontar, a clerk and archivist of the Pillar, had produced two volumes, the one a theoretical treaty and the other a collection of notes and discussions on the music in itself. With shaking hands Ealendil had carefully stroked the second volume, almost hugging it to her chest, not wanting to let it go. Lady Tingruviel had promised she could have a copy of it in a few days, as the original was too precious to leave the halls. With tear filled eyes, Ealendil had seen the volume go back to the archives. Yet, her heart sang with joy as she anticipated the marvelous gift of knowledge she could at her own leisure delve deep into.
As Manadhlaer had been bestowed her new office, and congratulations and celebrations were forthcoming, Ealendil inquired about a hymn for the Pillar, the other orders had theirs as she recalled. And was met with questioning looks, there apparently was none, and Manadhlaer inquired whether one could be composed. Ealendil upon hearing this, immediately promised to look into it, if none could be found, a new one would indeed be composed, that she promised Manadhlaer, but it would have to wait until she returned from Lothlórien.
During the meeting she had learned and realized several things, which she never had considered before, her work within the Harp had kept her too occupied since she had come to the Vale. Why was the Harp beneath the wings of the Pillar, why wasn't it an order and house on par with the Pillar? Clearly there must have been historical reasons for it, but it seemed strange to her now. The cooperation was there after all, as her inquiries into scholarly work that could promote her own studies had shown. No, to her mind both orders lived in harmony and should thrive from each other.
She strongly suspected that before she had come, the Harp had been a order of diverse artists and musicians set upon individual path of artistic explorations. She worried, Lady Elvealin’s work in the house of Healing had, to her understanding, kept her all too busy to allow her time to gently guide all that creative energy. Ealendil’s heart ached as she thought of her dear friend, and how seldom she could find time to be with her. “Oh Elvealin…”, she thought to herself, sighing with mixed joy and sorrow, “…you were there to greet me as I arrived, and you had been a most dear friend ever since… I will support you, and you know that, in whatever you feel our order needs.”
She hoped to bring this up with the new Lady of the Pillar. Clearly we were enough members now, she thought to herself, the work with the ensemble Lindamar had clearly shown that, and she would do all she could, heart and soul, to help Lady Elvealin in guiding the order and promoting its artistic ventures.
At the meeting, discussions had been brought up concerning the coming journey to Lothlórien, and what route to take. Hîr Anglador, a most peculiar ellon and scholar, the star-reader of the Pillar, had consulted his star maps and pointed out that crossing the Hithaeglir at the Red Horn pass was not favored by the stars. The mood had immediately gone somber at the meeting. What route would there now remain? Either go south through the lands of the hill-men or…. Mória… Apparently the dwarves had opened the gates, if the rumors were true, and why would they not be. Dwarves weren't prone to idle gossip and flimsy dreaming. No, as Ealendil recalled from her stay in Lindon last summer, trading companies must have braved the old dwarven halls. She had met with some out Gondammon who had come down to Duillond to trade goods. Well, whatever route they choose, it was up to the Fountain under the competent leadership of Himwen to choose the best course, and Ealendil was most confident one would be chose that ensured safe arrival.
Now she was walking home, clutching the copy of the second volume tightly in her arms, like a new born in need of careful protecting. She hurried her steps, could hardly wait until she reached her house. This, she thought to herself, she would take with her on the trip to Lothlórien, and she would bring the one she had borrowed from Elrond’s library too. Too compare notes, but she suspected that the one form the Pillar would be most revealing. She almost purred like a cat, feeling extremely pleased that her studies and research would bear fruit, finally, “Oh Mother, your… no, our dream may very well finally come true, I am so proud to be your daughter.”
