Sitting on his chair in his chambers, Veryacano looked at his now empty desk. It was usually a mess of letters, official documents, orders and journals but now it was all gone. After he was replaced as Lord Commander of the Order of Hammer, they were moved to Lord Tindir’s chambers and were now his to deal with. Veryacano felt useless and bored, but he also felt light, for the burden of responsibility for the Hammer was now off his shoulders. Without authority, he felt less concerned for Lothlorien and reports of enemy action around the Golden Wood. ''Someone else must worry about that now'' he said to himself, but that did not comfort his heart.
Looking around his luxuriously designed quarters, everything else seemed the same, with one other exception. On an armor stand his black Hammer uniform rested quietly with red and gold shoulderguards still attached to it and the folded red and gold cloak rested next to them. Veryacano looked at his old uniform, a signature of his rank and looked back at his blue uniform he wore. He thought it would be more suitable if the Hammer Lord Tindir would wear them now and so he would get rid of the sight of this uniform which brought discomfort to his mind. He was going to send them to Tindir as soon as possible.
Of late, he rarely left his quarters other than to attend Lord Anglachelm. Lord had said he liked it better this way since Veryacano wore blue uniform alike to the Lord himself. He had said: ‘‘Alike in color as well as in mind.’’ It still didn’t change the fact that it was a token duty, nothing more. It was not like the old days when the Lord had to attend negotiations with hostile folk and had to travel through dangerous lands. Veryacano’s bodyguard duty was rather light now, no one really thought a bodyguard necessary in the house of Elrond, for all were happy and comfortable in the Valley of Imladris. Lord Anglachelm had refused Veryacano’s rather formal approach and spoke of him as his counselor and honored friend. ‘‘Perhaps he was trying to lighten my spirits.’’ Veryacano thought at first, but afterwards he decided to go along with the same tune.
Dwelling in thoughts such as these, Veryacano pondered what he would do now. After all he was a soldier, now shelved in the glamorous halls of Lord Elrond. It seemed to him as if he was imprisoned in the Valley and the thought brought much discomfort. He was often bored of the valley and its courteous but hollow folk. Few among them offered him good company and he loathed to spend too much time in the halls of meeting among them. Instead he picked up his old craftsmanship of jewellery, he worked on polishing gems and precious metals but this did not distract him for long. Soon after, he desired to seek new gems and make small discoveries of his own and this thought seemed becoming to him. He thought about venturing into the trollshaws, but he knew he wouldn’t find much there. He then thought about the halls of Dwarrowdelf. He had visited the halls of Durin long ago when he dwelled in Eregion. Trade between elves and dwarves was strong then, and Veryacano had a chance to see the magnificent halls crafted into stone. He had seen many great things in his lifetime but even though such confined spaces were not befitting of the Eldar, the grand spectacle of Dwarrowdelf allured him.
As Veryacano sipped the fine red from his silver goblet, his thoughts focused more and more on the dwarves and their halls. He desired to visit Dwarrowdelf once again, which was now known as Moria, the black pit. It was now widely known that the halls were reopened by the dwarves and Veryacano wondered if they had managed to return it to its former glory. Its mining shafts were deep and without doubt, many precious and beautiful things awaited deep beneath the earth there to be discovered. He then remembered the group of dwarves that had visited Imladris not long ago. They had invited the elves to Thorin’s halls. ‘‘Perhaps I should have volunteered myself, instead of suggesting sending Parnard.’’ Veryacano thought. Taking another sip from his wine, Veryacano wondered if he could convince Lord Anglachelm to allow him to go for a prospecting journey. Nothing too fancy, nothing too short.
