Chapter 4: Atanone’s Lament to Nólemíre 

My Dearest Nólemíre,

Thank the Valar that you have made it safely to Lothlorien. I have been eagerly awaiting your letter, partially because I am curious as to what you have been up to and partially because I have been anxious of the possibility of your party being attacked by orcs, wargs or who knows what else. I knew that you and Arwen traveled with some of the finest warriors that Imladris has to offer, but I worried just the same. Besides, you had to travel with The Orc Spawn. She could have driven you to madness. Galangal is so bitter, she should be a natural orc repellant. I doubt that even balrogs would care to tangle with her. Poor Aearion. He mentioned that his hope of losing her in the forest was dashed all to Mordor, and she made it safely as well. Perhaps time spent in Galadriel’s Realm will change her. Who am I kidding? But I can hope can’t I?

I have missed you dearly, sister. I cannot remember ever being separated by so much distance. I even miss that scamp Aearion. I have not even Arwen or The Twins for company. Those facts alone encompass the absolute worst part of my punishment. I can bear the rest of it.

What chafes me is the fact that if were it not for Dúlinn [1], I would be alone here in Imladris. Somehow, Dúlinn has been assigned tasks that seem to coincide with any breaks I may have, and I rarely see her, except while I am working on texts. I might as well be alone.

This is Lord Glorfindel’s doing. He devised our punishments based upon the areas in our lives that he believes needs balance. He said that I depend entirely too much upon you and Aearion (as well as Dúlinn, Elrohir, Elladan and Arwen). He is of the opinion that I should make more friends, and overcome my shyness. I overheard him say as much during one of his visits with Lord Erestor.

I did not intend to eavesdrop, but one can hardly avoid hearing the entire conversation when one is sitting at a desk nearby. I tried my best to bury myself in my work. I even began humming a tune in an effort to distract myself. Unfortunately, the tune I chose apparently had its lyrics ‘improved upon’ recently by a certain young Elf Lord. Aearion would not have happened to mention anything about a song whose lines now speak of drunken revelry, fair maids and intoxicating elixirs instead of moonlight, stars and the sea now, would he? I hummed the first few bars before noticing that the room had become eerily silent. I looked up to see two rather interesting expressions on the faces of the Elf Lords in front of me. I immediately stopped humming and inquired if there was something amiss. (OK, OK. What I really did was shrug my shoulders and ask ‘What?’) Their reactions were priceless!

Just imagine a pair of millennia-old elves, one of them a twice born Balrog Slayer, shuffling their feet and clearing their throats while refusing to meet my gaze. There were several attempts at an explanation with plenty of mumbling and clearing of throats. Lord Glorfindel finally escaped, mumbling something about paying a visit to the training fields, guards, bawdy songs and ‘taking care to observe who is present before loosening their tongues’. He left poor Lord Erestor to his own devices, much to my amusement. I was hard pressed to squash a fit of laughter. As it was, I had to hide a smirk behind a scroll I was transcribing in an effort to compose myself.

Lord Erestor was struggling to regain his composure as well. After a few moments, he cleared his throat, drew himself up to his full height (which is rather impressive as you well know) and gave me a level stare that sobered me up rather quickly before he spoke. He asked me if there was any particular reason why I chose the song I was humming. I of course had no previous knowledge of its recent ‘improvements’ and answered that there was no particular reason.

“It just happened to come to mind?” he asked with an Elrond-ish quirk to his eyebrow. He didn’t appear to believe me, and I sat there perplexed, wondering what in all of Arda he was getting at.

“I assure you My Lord,” I replied, “it has been a favorite of mine since I was an elfling. I was merely trying not to eavesdrop on your conversation with Lord Glorfindel. I figured if I concentrated on the tune, it would be easier not to pay attention to things that are not meant for my ears.”

Before he could respond, Lord Glorfindel returned, having interrogated a guard who happened to be on his way to see Lord Elrond. He declared that unless I happened to have visited the male baths, I should have no knowledge of the new and improved version of ‘Moonlit Paths’. (I may be bold, but I am not brazen enough to dare such a thing, so put that thought out of your mind this instant!)

An animated debate began about whether or not I had anything to do with the ‘re-write’, and whether it was a part of the series of pranks that we were responsible for. Neither of them could believe that I might have anything to do with such a bawdy tune, but Lord Erestor’s logical side forced him to contemplate the possibility while dragging Lord Glorfindel into his musings. It finally got to the point where they began a discussion of ‘Ellith that happen to wander near the male baths when occupied; Embarrassing or Providential?’

 When they began to discuss my whereabouts in the evenings and whether or not I would actually frequent the bathing area when they were occupied, I had heard enough. I stood up a little too quickly as I scattered scrolls and ink jars everywhere. I stamped my foot and actually yelled at the two. I can’t tell you verbatim what I said, but it was somewhere along the lines of: “ENOUGH! Have you completely forgotten that I am still here in the room with you? Stop talking about me as if I were not here. I would probably still hear every word if I were across the hallway. The last thing that I wish to hear is the two of you discussing how I spend my evenings! It was bad enough that I had to hear you discuss the pros and cons of ellith walking by bathing pools filled with disrobed males. And, here you are worried about whether or not I hear a few ellon singing a few colorful tunes? Really My Lords! If you don’t mind, Lord Erestor, I have completed all that I can today, and I shall see you tomorrow.”

I did not bother to wait for an answer. With a huff, I gathered up my scrolls and ink, and made my exit. I smirked as I let the door slam behind me. I left behind two stunned Elf Lords, so I began to hurry back to my chambers, lest they should come to their senses and hunt me down to talk about my outburst. I had already caught the attention and curiosity of a few passers by as it were. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I did not notice the elf in front of my door as I rounded the corner. Luckily, he noticed me, and caught me as I ran straight into him, dropping my scrolls and ink on the floor for a second time in ten minutes. He was quite tall, so I could only stare at the strange clasp that held his cloak as he gently held me steady by my shoulders.

I was embarrassed to say the least. He made sure that I had my balance before he helped me to gather up my things. I sputtered my apologies while silently cursing my clumsiness. He had silently handed me my belongings (after I declined his assistance in carrying them) when it finally occurred to me to ask him why he was standing in front of my door.

He told me that he was searching for a Lady Atanoné of Imladris, assistant to Lord Erestor. With a grimace I replied that I was she, and eyed him somewhat apprehensively. Apparently, he was about to search for me in Lord Erestor’s study as he had letters to deliver to me. I caught a smirk on his face as he handed me a letter and what seemed like a small package. I was about to make a comment regarding his smirk, but was immediately disarmed by the cheeky grin he gave me when he saw my reaction to discovering that the letters were from you and Aearion, for I dropped my scrolls and ink once more. I clasped my folded hands to my chest then nearly leapt at him, wrapping my arms around his neck in a tight embrace. I may have even squealed with glee as I did so. 

I still had my arms wrapped about him when he told me that he ‘would be happy to deliver any messages I might have if it meant that he would be thanked in the same manner.’ It was not only the embrace. I cheekily replied that he would not have the opportunity to do so unless he released his arms from around my waist. I cannot believe that I reacted so impulsively! He laughed at this and told me that he would happily do so at the prospect of more such opportunities. By now I had taken back my grip on sanity and changed the subject quickly by asking his name. Considering how I had hugged him before proper introductions, I believe it was a fair request.

I hastily took a step backward as soon as he released his hold on my waist. He solemnly made an elegant formal bow before he answered; “I am called Draughir of The Woodland Realm, currently in service as a bard and warrior to the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien.”

 His bow was effortless. I sense an air of mischievousness about him Mirë, but his bearing is both powerful and graceful. His hair is a rich chestnut brown, and I highly suspect that if seen in sunlight, there are auburn highlights. His voice is smooth and the cadence of his speech is a bit different from what I am used to. It is almost as if he is continuously telling a story or recalling a song. What should I expect? He is a bard after all. As for his eyes, they are a deep green, reminiscent of the forest.

Anyhow, I had collected enough of my wits at this point to return his bow with a curtsey of my own. I told him it was my pleasure to meet him, and I thanked him for bearing my letters all the way from Lothlorien. We stood there for a few moments chatting before he helped gather up my scrolls and ink once more. I learned that he knew Aearion when he was training with the Dunadain. I wonder what interesting stories he may have concerning Aearion? I shall hopefully have the opportunity to find out, as he will not be returning to Lothlorien until after Midsummer’s Eve. He never did say if Draughir was actually his name or just what he was called, but I did discover that although he is a kin to Aurë, he is not native to The Golden Wood he now calls his home. Drat! I should have asked Aearion about him, but I am too lazy to unseal his letter and it is a moot point as I hope to find out by the time I would receive answer from Aearion.

Although I found myself loath to let him leave, the letters from you and Aerion were burning in my hands. I have been anxious to hear of your safe arrival to Lothlorien. He is a very intuitive ellon Mirë. He excused himself by saying that ‘he must tear himself away from my welcome presence to allow me to read what news my friends had sent to me’. I agreed to escort him to this evenings feast so I shall have further opportunity to speak with him. He also invited me to the Hall Of Fire where he might share a tale or song. Before he left, he bowed once again and kissed my hand lightly.

I eventually managed to get myself through my door without dropping my belongings, and deposited my ill-treated scrolls and inkpots onto my desk. I had just begun to melt into a chair when I heard a staccato rapping at my door. I groaned and took my time answering it, since I thought it to be either Lord Erestor, Lord Glorfindel or both seeking to speak with me about the way I took my leave of them. Imagine my surprise when a blur of russet hair with a rather large tome flew past me while urging me to ‘hurry and shut the door!’

After a cursory peek down the hallway, I swiftly closed the door and followed Dúlinn to the sitting area where she had already made herself comfortable. Her slippers were on the floor, her legs tucked up beneath her, and the book was propped up on her knees. I reacquainted myself with my chair and waited for her to explain her rushed entrance. Without looking up from her book, she immediately asked who the strange ellon I was flirting with was.

 I sat up so quickly you might have thought I was sitting on a pin. I exclaimed that I was not flirting with him, and that he had just brought me two letters from Lothlorien that I wished to read. She laughingly asked me when I started rewarding ellons who delivered messages with embraces. With a smirk she remarked that it was nothing short of miraculous I accepted his request to escort me to dinner as well. I had nothing to say to this, so I tossed a pillow at her and asked her if she had nothing better to do than to lurk in shadowed alcoves to spy upon her friends and tease them mercilessly.

“As a matter of fact,” she replied, “I thought it might interest you that Lord Elrond himself is on his way here to speak with you concerning the behavior of two Elven Lords. I was just borrowing this volume from Lord Elrond when the Lords Erestor and Glorfindel hurried into his study. I thought I would duck in here first to give you a heads up.” She stopped to take another bite of the apple she had selected from a nearby basket and grinned at the look of horror that was stamped upon my face. “Of course,” she continued, “I would have told you sooner, but I did not want to interrupt your conversation with your escort to tonight’s banquet. What in the world did you do to fluster them so, gwathel nín [2]?”

I deliberately ignored her comment regarding Draughir, and hastily recounted what happened, including my so-called flirtation. She had been so enthralled with my tale, she had lost her place in her book and had her chin propped up on her hands with her elbows delicately balanced upon her knees.

 She shook her head incredulously. “Ellon[3]!” she muttered as she settled back into her seat. “You seem to be the epicenter for excitement lately Atanoné. Oh! I almost forgot. A party is leaving for Lothlorien in the morning if you wish to send a response to those letters. Don’t mind me, I’ll silently enjoy your company while I read. I want to know how our friends are doing when you are done.”

I smiled at her and tore into your ‘journal’ and Aearion’s letter. I read them twice before I moved to my desk. These very pages belong to the much-abused scrolls and ink I mentioned.

So Mirë, tell me more about this March Warden of yours.  Yes, I called him ‘your’ March Warden as you devoted more words to his eyes alone than you ever have to a single male in his entirety. As a matter of fact, nearly half of your epistle concerned your meeting with Haldir. I believe that I shall side with Arwen by saying that there is something more than a passing interest.

I do think you handled yourself quite gracefully Mirë. I would have been suffering waves of agony had I been caught responding so pertly to a stranger. That scamp Elladan! I am sure that he disappeared on purpose, although I am sure he could not expect you to say such a thing. When you get lost in your reveries Mirë, you notice little of the world around you. The mallorns must have moved your heart indeed, for you to be caught off guard like that. Or perhaps it was something else that moved your heart? Perhaps you will someday be a ‘Sylvan Elf’ after all. Of course, I can safely say as much with such a great distance between us. Hah! Can you sense me grinning and giggling all the way in Lothlorien?

Of course, all jesting aside, no matter what the nature of your feelings for Haldir are (if any), you still have Galangal to contend with. I am perplexed at the fact that I alone have been left here in Imladris, while Galangal has been sent with you and Aearion to Lothlorien. I would think that Lord Elrond would have wanted to separate us from her. It is also puzzling to me that she was included in the rounds of punishments as well. Aside from the venomous words and nasty attitude during the council, she had nothing to do with our pranks besides to bear the brunt of our ‘overactive imaginations’. Perhaps Lord Elrond finally tires of her incessant gossip and penchant for stirring up trouble with her meddling and selfish schemes.

It would be well for you to avoid her as much as possible, although you know this already. She has already asserted her ‘claim’ on Haldir. (I just snorted out loud, and Dúlinn is laughing silently at me from across the room. I can tell by the look on her face that she will ask me all about it later.)

 I cannot wait for your next letter. I especially want to hear every detail concerning the feast for the Sons and Daughter of Imladris. Tell me all about your escort, who wore what, which songs were sung, and what stories were told. Are their feasts the same as they are here in Imladris? Spare no detail, as I anticipate not being able to enjoy (let alone pay attention to) any gatherings or festivals for the span of my punishment. Going back to Lord Glorfindel’s opinion that I should make more friends, and overcome my shyness, I am to engage a few of the quieter elves in ‘interesting and enjoyable’ conversation. How am I to do so Mirë, when I am usually one of those quieter elves, content to observe the festivities from among the company of my closest friends?

 I worry most about taking the initiative to draw others into conversation and making sure they are enjoying themselves. I would much rather trot around Imladris all day according to Lord Erestor’s whim, relaying messages, studying, organizing or translating and copying old texts. To top it off, I am to document the entire Summer Solstice Festival! It would be a shame if I were to fall so far behind on my tasks that day that I would have to miss the feast entirely. Or perhaps I shall be too overworked. But, then I would be shirking my punishment, and my apology for my behavior would be a lie.  I shudder to think of what Lord Elrond would say.

Speaking of Lord Elrond, it has been quite some time now, and he has yet to knock on my door. I have been on pins and needles each time I hear someone pass my chambers in the hall. The hour has grown quite late and it is almost time for the banquet. I hope he does not choose to speak to me of this until tomorrow. Preferably without the Lords Erestor and Glorfindel present.

Have fun organizing Lord Glorfindel’s study when you return. I have had a peek at it recently, and it may take millennia to put it into some semblance of order. A raised eyebrow on my behalf only earned me the comment that ‘he knows precisely where everything is, and he has far more important things to do than clean up a room that he does not entertain in.’ I happened to glance behind him and noted that the open door to the rest of his chambers revealed an immaculate haven. A far cry from the chaos of a rat’s nest he calls his study. Brilliant weaponry glinted neatly on the walls and I caught a glimpse of candlelight gleaming from deep within another room in his chambers. He followed my glance and smirked. He was quick to inform me that ‘Of course, those rooms in which he entertained guests in were kept immaculately.’ I left before he could elaborate on that statement further. I leave that discovery up to you.

I trust that you will refrain from relaying any intimate discoveries to me in explicit detail. Perhaps before overhearing his debate with Lord Erestor I might not have minded. I do, however expect great detail in your next letter regarding the welcoming feast and your council with The Lord and Lady of Lothlorien. Until the day I may travel there myself, it is my hope that you continue to add descriptions of The Golden Wood in your letters. Please give my regards to Undomiel, The Twins and Aearion. I miss you all very much.

May Eärendil [4]shine brightly upon your path, and the Valar[5]watch over you until next we meet.

Atanoné

[1]Dúlinn –dusk singer  (also known as Dúiel - dû
[ ] maiden of nightfall  )

[2] gwathel nín – my (sworn) sister

[3]ellon- male elves

[4]Eärendil- ‘lover of the sea’- Mariner who bears the Silmaril as The Morning Star. Father of Elrond

[5]Valar- ‘Those with Powers’ – Angelic powers who took part in the shaping of the world