Anglachelm

"Well, Sogadan,” said the Lord Ambassador. “What do you think I have inside this box?”

“Your coin to pay off your wine bill, I hope! You have let it run up again."

We gathered at the appointed place, at the appointed time, and I uttered a few words of encouragement, as some faces seemed a little pale and anxious. I said how it will suit the rest of our noble House, and our Lord Anglachelm’s high authority, if we learned the art of defense and fighting. Then I said how advantage favors the well-practiced hand, and it would please me to see one or two of our Order strike a solid blow above the girdle.

Elvealin passed by him in the hall carrying a large crate. She was not a weak girl, and her arms were as strong as pine branches. Still, she was delighted by his courtesy. Parnard taking the crate hurried to the chamber where she directed him, and laid it upon the floor, convinced that he had injured himself.

“What, pray, is inside this box?” he panted, dabbing at his brow with a handkerchief.

The healers of Rivendell were especially skillful. Wanderers to the Valley found their stock of knowledge indispensable, and Parnard was no exception. Spurge was very good at making the swelling in his ankle subside, and as far as the injury from the bear-trap went, the good result was permanent, although the plant’s sap did not agree with him, making him hiccup, and induced a distressing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Parnard looked over the receipt, comparing it to the lot just delivered. Supplies for seven at least: too many elves, Lord Anglachelm said. He imagined a squeaking wagon creeping across a muddy, rutted road carrying the load of barrels and crates. How secure were the roads leading south?

A comforting sense of forgetfulness was draped over him like a shroud; drowning out all fears and all questions in a warm and dark embrace. Yet it was not a sense of peace that filled his limited perception, for peace is a state of being that is dependent upon the existence of another, alternative state. Without war or conflict what meaning does the word peace have? Perhaps then oblivion would be correct; an absence of all sensation except darkness. Although despite the emptiness around him, not all was still and silent.

Parnard turned away from the letter and glared out the window at the fading daylight. I cannot recommend her too highly, he thought. Although Limiriel  had gained his confidence in this matter of Estarfin, what part she played in his rescue, he had no idea. Something about the spear-maiden unnerved him, and this letter she wrote him was bordering on rudeness.

Dolthafaer found himself standing a lonely vigil on one of the balconies of Elrond’s house, watching the stars light up one by one as night crept across the Valley.  He was clad still in the garb he had worn upon the road, the thick fabric and leather stiff and caked in mud.  He had lost his cloak days ago in the effort to bind Danel and Estarfin’s wounds.  He was exhausted, hungry, and uncomfortable.  His task was over, and it was time for him to return home.

Talkale looked down at the white parchment stretched upon the teak desk in front of him, wondering to himself if he was following the proper course of action. His intentions were good and he had already raised the matter once. No action had occurred, so further steps were needed. Such were the burdens he shouldered and at times they could become wearyingly heavy. Rolling his head from one side to the other to stretch his neck, he dipped his quill into lavender ink and began to write in his usual beautiful script.

***

Lord of Bar-En-Vanimar Anglachelm,