Settled upon a boulder in the ruins of Gwingris, Lothelian gazed quietly at the stars above. The night was still, as most were resting, and she could see the embers of the evening's fire glowing softly in the distance. She shuffled around on the rock as she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Annúngil, and she turned to him, face brightening.
"The others went to look for some shelter to spend the night?" he asked.
"Oh? I think so …" she stammered. She was always a little awe-struck by the smith, though he was close to her mentor Makanárë.
"I see. It is just I came back from a stroll and saw no one."
Lothelian laughed weakly. "Oh, they are in the other ruin, over there. 'Tis roomier and better for sleeping. I think Makanárë is there too, she said something about finding a place to sleep away from all the crowd."
"Dawn is near, will you not rest?"
"I did sleep for a bit - but then I couldn't. So I got up and came out here." Lothelian blinked, smiling sheepishly. "Too much on my mind. But the air is clearer here, that is for sure. It helps me think."
"Excited to be here?" His smile was kind and inquiring.
She replied with a broad grin. "Yes, very!" A moment's pause, and she found herself sighing softly. " I have never travelled alone like this before. It was always with my parents and sister." Annúngil nodded in understanding, walking to the rock and leaning against it.
"Must be a little scary, I imagine."
Lothelian shrugged, playing with a strand of her hair. "A bit. Not so much scary, for I know there are many seasoned warriors among us. I am just … not used to being alone. It helps, to have Makanárë here, and you, but … it is not the same."
"I did not speak of the fear of being assaulted by orcs, or anything of the like. Merely the fear of the unkown. It will pass. You said you came here, once or twice?'
"Yes, once with my whole family and a few more times with just Nana. She came to teach me of the history of these lands, and how to study the different types of ore." Lothelian smiled suddenly, becoming more enthusiastic. "And there is quite a lot of ore here, that is true. Iron, and copper, and even a bit of silver!"
"One of the many reasons why the founders chose to settle here." Annúngil nodded sagely, as Lothelian continued enthusiastically.
"I think I even saw a vein of quartz crystals in the rock face which we passed, on the way from the Bruinen Gorge."Lothelian smiled to herself, eyes wide and expression less melancholy. "Can you tell me of Eregion?"
"What do you want to know?" Annúngil raised an eyebrow.
"I have asked my mother to tell me everything she remembers from her life here. I have heard all of it, the good and the bad. Now I would like to know what you saw of Eregion, if you did." She watched in some puzzlement as Annúngil frowned, and rested his right hand on the boulder.
"I can tell you, but maybe..."
"Oh? I am sorry, I did not mean …" Taken aback, Lothelian worried her lip between her teeth in embarrassment. Of course, she knew the land of Eregion held as many memories of war and ruin as it did of happiness and prosperity. Had she said too much? Looking to Lothelian, Annúngil stretched out his right hand, removing it from the surface of the rock.
"Give me your hand."
Lothelian blinked at his hand, looking confused, then bashfully offered her own right hand. Annúngil took her hand in his and placed it over the surface of the rock. "What do you feel?"
"R-rocks?" Lothelian giggled nervously, trying not to appear as flustered as she felt. What was the meaning of this?
"Tell me about the texture, the temperature."
"It is rough, and ... cold." She could have slapped herself for stating the obvious, but what else would he have her say? Obviously there was something she was missing. Lothelian stared at the rock, as if it contained hidden secrets.
" This rock was here when the elves arrived, and it will be here when we have long departed these shores, " Annúngil said. "You could say it is a witness to time."
"The gifts of lord Aulë, the bones of the earth." Lothelian recited. "Er, sort of a saying my mother had."
Nodding, Annúngil lifted his hands around him, motioning to his surroundings.
"So ..." Lothelian stammered, "The stones remember? They have a memory?'
Annúngil placed his index finger over his lips, signing silence. "Listen." Lothelian looked around, wide-eyed, cupping her left hand over one ear, the other still planted firmly on the stone. She glanced at Annungil, a question in her gaze. He merely smiled at Lothelian's gesture, seeming amused.
"What do you hear?"
"....The wind in the trees?" Lothelian blinked, looking disappointed and confused. "Am I supposed to hear something else?"
"You hear but you do not listen. They lament, the stones of this land." Annúngil looked to Lothelian with a wistful smile.
"Are they singing?" Lothelian shot him a look full of confusion. "I hear no words, nor any music."
"The Noldor carved them, sculpted them, wrought them in high towers..." Annúngil shook his head. "They merely lament the passing of the elves. They still remember, for many a time must pass for a land where our people dwelt to forget our presence." Annúngil gazed to the East, with a somber expression.
"Or much evil must befall the lands."
Blinking, Lothelian looked around at the ruins, an expression of deep concentration on her face.
She turned back quickly and runs both of her hands on the rock, studying the surface carefully.
"Oh ... here is the groove where the mason worked, and the corner where this joined ... Aha! I may not be able to hear the song, but I can see it! The evidence is all around us!" Lothelian waved her hands around excitedly. "All these ruins tell a story, of what once was, and the rocks remember! See, you can tell by studying the stone, how it was treated by the masons. And we can probably figure out where the greatest deposits of ore were by looking for evidence of ancient mines! I remember, that is what my mother taught me."
Lothelian looked earnestly at Annungil. "Is this what you meant by "the stones remember?" She pointed across the field at a ruined tower. "See that metal filigree on the ruins? I can tell how the craftsman might have worked to shape it, and which parts are now incomplete, by projecting the pattern onto the broken places."
"Not exactly. That is called empirical evidence, I believe."
"Er ... what?" Lothelian blinked sheepishly, excited babbling suddenly cut short.
"To make it simple... knowledge through observation".
"And that is not the stone-song?"
"What I speak of is less tangible."
"But ... how do you hear it?" Rather embarrassed and confused, Lothelian frowned and scrunched up her face, deep in thought.
"You see, all things have a voice."
Lothelian took a deep breath, brow furrowed. "Is this related ... to the Music? Through which all came into being?"
"I suppose, is it not all making in the Music, and is it not the Music all which is made?"
Lothelian blinked, screwing up her mouth in frustration as she tried to understand the cryptic sentence.
"This is why I was no good at poetry and literature."
"I used to 'evade' those classes too," Annúngil replied with a chuckle. Lothelian stared at the rock, as if she expected it to come to life and sing at her.
"But ... how? It is just a rock?" She watched as Annúngil unsheathed his dagger and twirled it around his fingers. She smiled and furtively admired the craftsmanship of the dagger, eyes watching it as it spun around. It was a fine piece of work, leagues above anything she was yet able to forge herself.
"This was once ore, iron turned into steel, shaped and tempered," Annúngil began. "When I was young, I was taught something. The metal knows it has a purpose, was it not made by Aulë himself, who teached the Noldor all arts of hand? It is sturdy and unwilling, and it will not bend to one weak of will or mind. What we do is see the shape within and bring it to form."
"I ... see." Lothelian motioned for him to continue, listening with rapt attention. "It is like how Nana always told me to look within the metal for the final shape of whatever I am making. It took a while for me to figure that out."
"For so was Makanárë taught, and the one before her."
Lothelian 's eyes widened. "Really?"
"It was the same for me."
"Oh?" Lothelian 's eyes became even wider as she pondered the thought, before she let out a little involuntary gasp. "Did you learn from Lord Aulë himself?"
"In a way, aye, though most of what I learned was from my father, and the Ainur under Aulë." Annúngil chuckled. "But what I meant, is that I too struggled to understand and grasp that concept."
Lothelian put a hand to her mouth, eyes as wide as saucers. "Wait ... you saw him? And his Ainur? What was it like?" She blinked several more times, completely floored by this revelation.
"I stood in his presence and learned at his feet." Annúngil tilted his head to one side. "Not unlike us. Bearing some higher majesty, of course."
"But ... he was one of - of the Powers of Arda ... and he gave lessons? Er, well not like that, but you know what I mean..."
"The Valar were willing to teach those willing to learn. Many elves apprenticed under them," he replied.
Lothelian smiled, curiosity satisfied on that matter for now. She pulled out a small pocketknife made of inlaid wood and steel with a questioning expression. "So ... as you were saying, I forged this blade, and it remembers?"Lothelian turned the pocketknife round curiously.
"In a way, you could say it knew it would be a blade before it came to be."
"Yes, yes, I knew the metal wanted to be a blade the minute I began shaping it." She nodded vigorously,
running her finger over the smooth steel of the knife-blade. "So... that is like the stones?"
"Did not the metal have a voice?"
Lothelian nodded emphatically. "It did!" She giggled. "It would complain when I worked it wrong."
"Take heed that 'voice' and 'language' are relative. You heard and 'saw' the metal. It is not much different with everything else in these lands," Annúngil said.
Lothelian's eyes widened. "Oh! It can be a voice heard in one's mind, then?'
"I suppose. At times, you hear something but you do not listen."
She traced her fingers over the stone meditatively. "I suppose a mason or stone-smith might be able to hear the song more clearly. I can see where it has been shaped - " Lothelian listened intently, closing her eyes. Trembling with intense concentration, she sat with her eyes squeezed closed for a long while. A smile began spreading over her face as she sat still for many moments, hands upon the stone.
Her eyes snapped open. She smiled, panting a bit. "I heard something! Not words, but - a hum. It was sad, and somber, and made me think of the songs my mother sang to me. Songs of Eregion."
"As I said, they lament the passing o the Eldar." He gave Lothelian an approving nod.
"How there once were cities, and palaces, and markets instead of ruins," she murmured sadly.
"And now, they are gone," Annúngil sighed.
Lothelian smiled furtively and whispered, more to herself than to anyone else, "And still the stones remember." She looked around sadly. "Naneth says that these ruins will never be rebuilt." Annúngil stood still in silence, his dagger loosely held amid his fingers. He blinks and looks to Lothelian.
"I fear they will not."
Lothelian 's eyes glittered with a strange mixture of emotions. "But yet - is it still not something marvelous that we who craft things will always be remembered, through the work of our hands? The steel - the stone - the wood - they remember. And they sing without voices, and without words."
"It is, indeed. All these things will linger. Men less learned in tradition will gaze upon the ruins and wonder."
"Perhaps it is another echo of the Music that began all this." Lothelian's mouth hungs slightly open as she pondered this thought. "All making is in the Music, and in the Music is all which is made..." She looked to Annúngil with bright eyes. "Is that somewhat the way of things?"
"I suppose you could say that. But my knowledge and understanding of the Music is limited; that I leave for others to study. I believe my mother could speak to you in length of such things. She ever delved in matters of language, and song."
"Your ... mother?" Lothelian replied in an awed voice. "She sounds ... wise. She must be wise, if you are so …" She stammered and blushed slightly, earning a chuckle from Annúngil.
"Wise, if not a little explosive, though the years have changed her as they have me."
Smiling bashfully, Lothelian leaned against the stone, resting her head upon the side of the boulder. "Where is she now?" Annúngil gazed West, and Lothelian followed his gaze, nodding slowly.
"In Erëssea. She took the ship, long ago."
Lothelian fiddled with the end of her braid, looking around wistfully. "I do not know how I could live with my parents so far away. Even Imladris seems too far from here."
"But the children must walk astray if to find their own path."
"Nana said something about 'her fledglings flying the nest' before I left Imladris." Lothelian turned her gaze north to Imladris. "Luthelian is leaving, too." She fell silent, one hand grasping unconsciously at the flower-shaped pendant hanging around her neck. Annúngil 's gaze seemed distant, but slowly he collected himself.
"It gets easier after a while.'
"But I miss her," Lothelian said in a small voice.
"Do remember they are not that far at all once you consider Endor in all its length."
"True ..." She nodded, watching as he smiled softly at her. Slowly, she uncurled her fingers from the pendant at her neck, tucking it away safely underneath her collar.
"Think of it this way...Once you meet, you will be the one telling the stories." He winked.
"I suppose you are right."
"I dare say I have learned a thing or two by wandering astray myself," Annúngil chuckled.
Lothelian drew herself up a little straighter, eyes resolute. "Anyways, I asked to leave on this journey, and I know it will be good for me. I have you and Makanárë to make sure I do not wander too far." She smiled, though it turned into a full-blown yawn at the end.
"That you do. Now, I should get some rest, and so should you. Although I must have given you more to think about than you had before.'
Kicking her feet off the rock, Lothelian slid to the ground, flashing the older ellon a bright grin. "Thank you for ... for, earlier." She gestured to the rock.
"You are welcome."
"I suppose it is hard to feel alone in a land surrounded by songs like these." She looked around in wonder at the ruins and great boulders lying upon the ground. Annúngil placed his hand upon the rock.
"But also easy."
"I know Nana and Ada spoke of it before, but I never truly realized, until now ..."
"It is far from an easy concept."
"Just like metalsmithing!" Grinning, she threw a fist into the air. "But it comes with practice! Lots of practice!"
"I will fetch some of my belongings and find a comfortable place to rest." Annúngil replied. "Good morning, Lothelian."
As she watched him walk off, Lothelian muffled a yawn with one hand. Was it past midnight already? She looked up at the twinkling stars, which somehow felt closer and larger on this night than they had ever been in Imladris. The solid stone underneath her fingers seemed to rumble with hidden songs as she traced it with her fingers. She wondered what stories they would tell - perhaps if she listened closely enough, she would be able to resolve some words out of the vague humming that seemed to rise up from them. Another yawn escaped her as she swayed and reached out a hand to steady herself on the rock. That was a mystery for tomorrow, after she had taken her rest.
