Order of the Pillar

Sarmëtecil, the secretary-scribe of the Order of the Pillar, had learned a trick lately for dealing with the Lady's recent jumpiness: she knocked on the wall of the hallway before reaching the door of the office. The sound was fainter and, to the keen ears of the Eldar, fairer -- perhaps the wood was lebethron, Sarmë knew not, and she was no harpist, but judged the sound to be lighter and gentler than the sound of knocking on the actual door.

Manadhlaer sighed, not for the first time that day, or that hour. She dipped her quill and made another attempt:

It has been widely known since the Elder Days that the sap of an unopened poppy...

Instantly she stopped and put a line through her words. "If it has been widely known," she said aloud, "why write it at all?" One of her delicate silken slippers, as light as an Elfling's first breath, had already gone. She kicked the other against the far wall of her office and began again.

Sarmëtecil was a Noldë, and proud, as such folk are wont to be, but even she trembled slightly before the stare of the Lady of the Pillar. "It is true, my lady. Great heaps of log-books are simply missing -- erm, not to be found at this time." She ran a finger under the collar of her burgundy tabard, which now seemed uncomfortably tight.

"What," Manadhlaer began, but fortified herself with a swig of tea before she continued. "Do you mean. Missing."

"It is our hope that in time, we may locate --"

Captain Sáranassë of the Order of the Arrow was many things, as she stood in Lady Manadhlaer’s office. She was tall, and fair in her austere way, and armored. She was a daughter of the Noldor, a creature of stealth and odd habits. She was a hardened warrior and a keeper of secrets. The one thing Sáranassë was not, by any means, was amused.

“Are you really quite sure that you never even heard his name?”

The Lady of the Pillar had asked her secretary this twice before. Sarmëtecil lowered her head and confronted the hopeful gaze of her mistress.

Hiril Manadhlaer:

As you requested, I have made a list of books from the chest of tomes discovered by Daeruth -- may she emerge from her icy curse! --  under Thorin's Halls that have absolutely nothing to do with Dwarrow-gems. Some of them are about gems, but written in a didactic mode by our own hir Silwë. But none of what we have read cover to cover so far has anything to do with the topics you are searching for. We have, of course, more tomes yet to go. 

Not at all relevant:

My dear Telpenaro,

I have asked what scholars I could find -- minus Sorontar, who is off doing falconry things, and Anglador, who rests by day so that he can observe Varda's jewels at night -- and we all agreed we could give a home to one of the kittens when they are ready to leave Mintel's side.

My oathsworn lord, 

I am in receipt of 137 waggons of corn, sent by you. I am a bit confused, since I am quite certain I sent you a requisition for sand, in which to preserve the ancient tomes in the chest delivered to me after the expedition to the Ered Luin. 

Dear Diary,

Well, the meeting turned into a great shambles of speculation, and then it turned into an expedition. Not back to Eregion, to try the restored keys provided by Earnio, but to the Blue Mountains, and indeed the doors of Thorin's Halls.

Tingruviel asked to make the diplomatic request for information in person. I could hardly deny her this -- she knows best about what approaches work, and we need this to work.