The Lonely House of the Ingolmo



All is darkness, save for a smoking torch which casts a sullen red light, doing no more than deepening the shadows of my noisome dungeon. Here, deep in the nethermost vault of the Enemy's fastness, I am alone, for time unguessed has passed since my friend was grievously slain before my eyes; his head cloven and his lifeless body hung upon a gibbet for the sport of the gorcrows. My wrists and ankles are fettered agonisingly in iron chains, which hold me spread-eagled across the cold stone floor of my prison. I am enfeebled and benumbed. All is silent save for the soft dripping of water upon the filth-strewn floor, the sputtering of the torch, and now and then, the distant scream of a thrall in torment somewhere up above. The dripping water is driving me to madness with thirst.

The sound of iron-shod footsteps breaks the quiet, clattering loudly on the stone stairway down which they tread. I hear a harsh rasping voice speaking to the Uruk guard on the far side of the barred gate, speaking the hideous ancient Black Speech of Sauron; little of that foul tongue from the Dark Years do I know, but I overhear some words I have learned in the darkness:
    "Sharkû"... "gûldur"... "ghâsh"...

It is a voice of evil malice that I know all too well. It is him!

"Awaken, Greybeard! A cuiva!"


Penned in the House of Dolenor,
In the Realm of Dorwinion.


I came hither yestermorn to the hermitage of Dolenor, the ingolmo and gollor, as Lord Iavasdir had counselled; and he had been apprised of my coming, for he gave to me a 'Treatise of the Communication of Thought'1 that he had prepared, written upon parchment in his fair hand, which he bade me to read in silence beside the small cataract that spills from the stony heights nigh his lonely house amidst the hills of Dorwinion.
   "For the music of the stream's fall will hinder thy distraction by the minds of the birds and beasts hereabouts; and lo! the very rumour of the Created World or the echoes of the First Music of the Ainur within thy mind, kindled unlooked-for by the Flame Imperishable," he laughed.

Indeed, Dolenor's nature is most unexpected, for he is unlike my stern friend, the Lambengolmo, and I had bethought that a master of ingolë would likely be of a most serious mien, but he is an amiable and cheerful -- and oft irreverent --  ancient Quendë. And uncommonly he speaks in only Quenya, for he is of the Amanya Noldor; a Calaquendë who had seen the light of the Two Trees in Valinor ere their destruction; and though he is fluent in Sindarin (and Annúnaid Westron, no doubt), he prefers the pure tongue of his ancient kin (besides, says he, it gives him great delight to yet spite its forbiddance by Elwë Singollo of old!)

And so after careful consideration of his treatise and all he had written therein, I came to him and waited while he fed his fowls and brought his goats in from their pasture; whom, I noticed with pleasure, heeded his every gesture of command, though nary a word was spoken by him. And when afterwards he sat beside me, he gave me a keen and appraising look; as though, while not reading my mind, he took in the aspect of my very essence and thus judged my quality.
   "I have been told thy tale, and I deem that thou hast indeed endured sorcery of the darkest nature," quoth he, "And greatly do I lament thy torment. And it falls to me, or so Iavasdir has besought me, to delve within thyself so that I might glean its nature, lest there is something therein that he did not himself discover."
To this I readily agreed, for -- cursed or not -- this has much been on my mind also.

I know not how long he wrested with the dark enchantment that had been placed upon me, but great was my discomfort and I swooned. And though no clear memories came to light, many were the feelings of joy and sorrow of yore that I felt within; and hate, anger and malice, which were not mine, but shadows of the malevolent mind which had assailed me. And when the mind of Dolenor withdrew and he came back into the the Seen world, I awoke to see his face was wan and fear was in his eyes, and he trembled as a leaf in a fell wind.
   "Grievous indeed is the evil work that the Enemy has wrought upon thee, and I cannot break his spell of forgetfulness. The Ring-wraiths have grown mighty indeed... save that this is the act of the Dark Lord himself! Nor have I pierced that wall to glean the truth of thy being... for the price of its tearing down would be thy very life."

   "In my treatise that thou didst read, did thee mark the measure of the Dark Lord Morgoth, master and teacher of Sauron?" he asked, his eyes bright and keen as stars, but reflecting some deeper regret or painful memory of days of yore. And I remarked that I had indeed, and with great concern.
   "Then knowest thee the cruel means by which he overcomes the minds of his enemies, and those he wouldst enthrall. For oft was he aided by the simplicity of those unaware of evil, or not yet accustomed to beware of it; though I deem thou was not of that ilk ere your torment, and that thou was well aware of the evil inherent in Arda Marred.
   "Nay, thou was uncorrupted in heart, and therein thy weakness, if it may so be called; and thus by deceit, by lies, by torment of the body and the spirit, by the threat of torment to others well loved, or by the sheer terror of his presence, Sauron -- who learned these dark arts from his master, Morgoth, and whom no doubt has taught them to his foremost minions -- ever sought to force the Incarnate that fell into his power, or came within his reach, to speak and to tell him all that he would know; for upon the body and upon the indweller, therefore, such pressure and such fear may be exerted that the Incarnate may be forced to speak; and by such means, I deem, did he breach thy Unwill and lay ruin to thou spirit. But this was not by entering thy mind, or by reading it as it is; but that he employed such foul sorcery as he knows upon thee, some devilry over which I cannot prevail, to my great regret."2

Alas, this brought to me no comfort, and I fear that the ministrations of Dolenor are what unleashed my unquiet dream of old that I relived in the night.


1. At the behest of Dolenor, this document has been destroyed, lest unwelcome eyes are laid upon it.
2. Resource: Ósanwe-kenta by J.R.R. Tolkien (published in Vinyar Tengwar #39 by The Elvish Linguistic Fellowship )

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