Journal - A Wind from the East



Elenya, the 1st day of Coirë

 

A fortnight ago, I was called to Lord Erestor's office for an audience, which I knew was some time in the making. For he had sent me a letter informing me of my father's recent appointment as visiting scholar and councillor to Lórien, and wished to tell me that I was released of my duties in the Library of Elrond, should I wish to follow my father thence. What transpired in our meeting was more of the same, for Lord Erestor is a noble and wise master, and wholly understanding of my situation.

"My dear child, one cannot work at one's best when one is pulled several different ways at once by conflicting duties," he had told me. "Find the duty your heart tells you to follow, and pursue it single-mindedly. I will not fault you for your choice, for I have seen you grow through childhood into the very flower of youth in the Library of Elrond, and you have been a help to all in your work here."

I had then politely turned in my resignation from my post as assistant scholar in the library, though Lord Erestor assured me I would be welcome to use the facilities in Imladris for my own private research. From now on, I am not expected to attend to the care of the books there, nor the well-being of visitors to the library, nor the teaching and guidance of whatever apprentice scholars came there to study.

It is almost a relief, I could say, for there have been many matters weighing on my mind as of now. Cousin Líriel continues to send me letters (it is a miracle how they manage to cross the mountains in such quick succession), chattering away excitedly about her and imploring at least one of my family to be there for her wedding. And while I find her letters amusing at best, and tiresome at worst, I cannot say that I have not thought seriously of travelling East to the Golden Wood, though not only to visit my kin there. Líriel continues to write to me of Galthoron, her betrothed, one of my few friends when I stayed in the Golden Wood. He is solemn and brooding, as does not befit an ellon about to become a bridegroom with the turning of the season. The death of a comrade, lost to spider-venom, much distresses him, and that I can well understand. Perhaps better now than I could have before - for now I have faced death and near-death in the healing halls of Imladris, and am somewhat the wiser for it.

My work as a healer in Imladris has taught me much, not least of which has been that bandages and poultices may not cure all mortal ills. Though increasingly the walls of Imladris and the rocky cliffs that encircle the valley have begun to seem to me less of a comfort and more of a trammeling barrier. Laurelindo, Tyulusse, and I, as well as a few others, have been researching a cure for spider venom from the Greenwood, in order to better equip warriors facing such dangers. And in the past seasons, I have become increasingly convinced that such study will not be furthered by staying in Imladris. My younger sister Tinwen  has told me of her studies in healing, in the Golden Wood, and of one of her masters, Ethuilir, who was an expert in the treating of poisons. Ethuilir was oft called to duty across the Anduin, tending to the soldiers who were wounded by such venoms. I have some excerpts of his in an herbalism-book, but it is a poor substitute to actually speaking with the author himself.

I have learned much in my time as a healer in Imladris, but my duties in the healing halls have been safely transferred to the shoulders of other healers, and the patients under my charge are already healed and well. As for the small robin which Vorongwë had rescued some weeks ago, he is rapidly mending and beginning to flap about in his cage. I have entrusted him to the care of one of the younger healers, and my sister Tinwen. Soon he will be able to return to the wild, and the fair spring which seems to grow nearer with each day. Tinwen assures me she will take care of any duties of mine in the healing halls for a while, until Ada deems it wise for the rest of the family to remove to Lórien as well.

I do feel so happy for my father - he has long been contemplating a move back to the lands of my mother's kin, and now that Lord Erestor has given him leave, he is busy planning the necessities for such a move. Such strange news as his duel with Makanárë, which has necessitated his removal from Imladris, is not a secret among my family, though I was rather shaken to hear of it at first. My father, duelling in Imladris where that is strictly prohibited? Though I am glad that all was resolved, and that he had in fact been making provisions for such a confrontation when it happened. Naneth was entirely displeased, and was indisposed for a day, but she eventually came around and began jesting with my father as to when we should invite his cousin over for dinner. Can you imagine? The age-old strife pitting kin against kin has resurfaced rather close to home, and though I have only observed it from the outside, it serves as a reminder that such events as the Oath and Kinslayings were not only history in the past. History has a way of rearing its head in the present, when one least expects. It is ... odd to have such a one as part of our family now. I have not spoken with Makanárë, yet, but she seems to be on speaking terms with my father, her cousin. In fact, Naneth mentioned some  time before the Yule Ball that she was working on a commission, a splendid dress of crimson and white silk, embroidered with golden threads. When questioned, she merely said it was "a favour for family. " Some judicious snooping has revealed that Makanárë did in fact wear this dress to the Ball, and that she was seen on the arm of none other than Annúngil, who happens to live close by. When I told this to Ada, he merely smiled mysteriously, as if he had known of this all along. I think I will never fully be able to comprehend all that goes on in that mind of his.

Now I reflect on Lord Erestor's words to me, and I know that I have indeed found a purpose I can follow with all my heart, without straying in all directions and under pressure from my duties to the healing houses, to the Library, and to other causes. It is freeing, as if a breath of fresh air has swept away the cobwebs and even the walls hemming in my mind. I will turn my path East, along with some of my dear friends and kin, and seek for answers in Lórien the Golden. Though several practical concerns immediately present themselves, such as ... what is the best conveyance in which I might bring my dear rabbit Míril safely over the mountains?