Mortals: A Case Study (The Heart Meets the Fist)
Torech Besruth, Falathlorn, Lindon
19 Quellë in the Reckoning of Imladris
The new tranquility of the Lair did not last three days…
The first morning of my new situation began so peacefully. I was awake early and simply lay in bed, meditating with deep, cleansing breathing. Cutch’s first night living here was spent in companionable comfort; we talked, we confided, we laughed and even wept a little. Last night, both of us came to realize that our lives were about to change and, come what may, we would see these shifts in our fortunes together. The emotional upheaval we shared was uncharacteristically draining for me, and thus I took a few hours of quiet sleep and dreams to cleanse my mind.
I heard Cutch moving about in his new chamber. He would be awakening in an unfamiliar place, and I know from my own experiences that such a thing can be disorienting; I can only conclude that it would be doubly so for him. He seems, however, to be most adaptable. As I lay there quietly, I could follow his movements by sound alone: rustling about his gear, crossing the floor to the Hall, the front door opening and closing. He would be most curious about his new surroundings, and I surmised he would be wanting to take in all the sights and sounds of Imlad Lind.
I arose and dressed for the day, descended the stairs and repaired to the Sanctum to consult my notes and reorder my thoughts in record. The sound of wind chimes came through the window, the morning breezes off the river moving the leaves in tune. My eyes scanned the chamber resting upon familiar things: the shelves of my word-hoard; Naneth’s Shrine; the stacks of parchments and books, pages awaiting my quill; and finally, the wooden cradle where Dondangol rests, waiting…
Later in the morning, I heard the door open once more; Cutch had returned. He did not seek me, though; I could hear him bustling about in the Hall. I continued writing when an aroma touched my nose, not from outside but from the hall: was that coffee!? As I padded into the hall on bare feet, I could feel the grin splitting my face as I thought Cutch, dear one, you already know me…
The next day was much like to the first, with shared meals, long talks, and standing outside in the gloaming watching the sun disappear behind the heights across the river. From Cutch, I was already learning more and more of the patterns and ways of the Mortal heart and mind than I had in my book-learning of the last century. I was contemplating just how beneficial, and how pleasant, this new arrangement was proving to be – when there was a single rap on the door: the sign that a message had arrived.
I stepped outside and saw a message had been haphazardly thrust into the letterbox. Looking around, I could not see any sight or sign of the deliverer. I took the folded parchment and stepped back inside, reading as I walked. I almost made it past the map display in the hall, when I stopped dead in my step – and I swear I could feel my eyes changing color:
The Resident Council of Imlad Lind greets Seregrían:
It has been brought to our awareness that a newcomer has been observed guesting at your home. This of course is of no consequence and your own affair, except for the concerns that the newcomer is Firimar; that said Mortal has been observed taking fish from the waters; and has been seen in several places about the village.
Several voices have raised questions regarding this Mortal’s presence, especially in light of your renowned predilection toward disdain of same. The Resident Council, therefore, invites you to the next meeting of the Council at large four days hence, to offer a reasonable assurance that all regarding your welfare is sound.
Manwë keep you under the One, and Yavanna grant you her bounty.
Several things happened at once. Slamming the parchment down on the table, I stormed into the Sanctum and, lifting Dondangol from its cradle, I flew back to the hall and began lobbing bolts of light around the walls and ceiling in a fit of rising anger. Not feeling any satisfaction from these, I hurled the staff aloft and screamed out a Word of Command which sent blue-white sparks around the hall, touching any exposed iron or metal, setting them aglow and accompanied by a most gratifying crack of thunder…
… just as Cutch walked back into the hall from outside, his eyes wide in alarm.
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