I left the discussions of elves and dwarves to walk through several doors at the back of the storerooms as Frárin gave long talks on the design of the fortress. ‘Your people are no good at building defensively’ he said, ‘much of the stone above the surface had to be completely replaced by my kin as soon as they arrived. However, the foundations are serviceable. They bind the structure above to the hill below well enough.’ So then, these were passages from the original fortress. ‘It’s good for a fortress to have solid foundations’ he continued, ‘they aren’t replaced easily. Thorin founded his halls on the dragon’s bones but these are certainly adequate.’ I thought about reminding him that the Halls were built before the dragon’s demise, but considered he may be referring to the restoration of the Lonely Mountain itself.
Frárin, I was coming to understand, could roughly be considered the architect of the fortress. He was constantly considering the numerous ways the hill could be attacked and how long each wall would hold. I noticed the change in some of them as the passages became tunnels running through the base of the hill. As Frárin picked up a torch, I tried not to show apprehension at being led into the dark by a dwarf I had just met. ‘The deal must be progressing better than it seems’ I said, ‘if all there is left to resolve are the old questions of land’.
Despite that, I was more concerned than the others were. I have lived enough years in the lands of the Ered Luin to see the diminishing of our care for them. I knew that the Havens had not nearly enough vessels for all the elves. Eventually, either the Falathlorn or the Return would be endangered and that was a decision I wished to forestall indefinitely.
My dwarven guide stopped at a point along the passageway. ‘Here is want I wished to show you’ he said eagerly, squatting near the base of the wall to illuminate one of the stones. ‘It’s covered by the outer wall now, but this was once part of the original entrance gate’. There was, of course, another message in Sindarin inscribed in five lines of runes. Thankfully, it was much clearer to make out than the fragmented relics. The upper part of the stone was more worn but the first line read
Suns may rise and set in blue peaks
The second and third I was not sure of other than the use of words ‘generations’ and ‘searching’, but the final two lines read
Watch for us at dawn of morning
When the sun and moon are absent
This reference to the disappearance of the Sun may have been a more obscure form of farewell from the early First Age. It was thought then by some elves that the bodies in the sky were not to last forever but would instead be replaced by new celestial lights with the passing of each Age. The phrase was used by those who did not think they meet again until the next great changing of the world. I suggested it was likely a message left for the dwarves by a more classically minded poet but Frárin pointed out the wear of the grooving and the degradation of the stone’s mineral. He insisted the message could only have been written at Gondamon’s founding and not its abandonment.
Standing there, as I considered the message written in Elf-carved stone that lay beneath the Dwarf-carved stone above, I came to a realization about the broken relics of Gondamon, written by both Elves and Dwarves. I hurriedly suggested to Frárin that we move along to the records room. Fortunately, the place where the dwarves of Gondamon kept their registers was not far along the tunnel, in what was more a repurposed closet than a room. I waited outside in the dark as Frárin cross-referenced the orders for road maintenance, but after some time he confirmed groups of the stones that were made at the same point in time. As suspected, pairs of them must have been written together. Tablets containing an elven message in Sindarin followed by a similar dwarven message in Khuzdul.
‘They were contracts’ I said to Frárin as we returned. ‘Records set in stone of agreements between Edheliond and the dwarves of the Blue Mountains. Broken now – quite literally’. I had known similar treaty records during the last years of Edheliond but they had been written on parchment. Now that I understood how such dealings were done in the realm’s earlier days, I saw a path uncovered. It could lead though the negotiations without disaster. This was all I could think of as we came to the courtyard, the sun having set hours ago. The inhabitants of the fortress had mostly retired, but there were still dwarves working through the night and Mathi Stouthand still kept watch from the terraces.
At this point, I am sure you have guessed at where I have gone and why. And no doubt you would be asking why I went to Mathi first instead of Gailthin or the others. I cannot give a satisfactory answer. I have in truth asked that question myself. All I can say is that it was clear the talks would endure much longer and once my course was set I could not ignore it.
I greeted the lord of Gondamon again and asked him to show again the written form of the agreement we had originally come to discuss. After some hesitation he produced a yellowed scroll written in Khuzdul. ‘Its contents have already been proclaimed word-for-word’ he said. ‘Its form is more important to me’ I replied. ‘I take it this is not the original?’
‘The original agreement with the Shipwright was made long ago in the First Age’ said Mathi, ‘but has been lost among the many upheavals in the Blue Mountains. This version was sent to Thrain from the Havens not long after he settled here.’
‘I think the full terms of the contract - or at least as it stood during the founding of Edhelion - can still be found among the stone relics.’ ‘Not among the fragments here,’ I added ‘for it would have been kept at Edhelion itself.’
It was clear to him what I was asking. When Edheliond fell, the dwarves had scoured it of all relics they could find containing the knowledge they believed we held secret from them. While it was not mentioned openly, all knew that many of these were still kept in Thorin’s halls. But if the dwarves were to return one of these relics to us, and in doing so further honor an ancient oath that was already favorable to them, it would be a resolution to satisfy both parties.
With any luck he would, I expected, send a message north. Instead, he asked ‘If there were fragments of such a tablet, would you be able to identify it as you did the ones here?’
I truly was not expecting his response. You must understand, the dwarves rarely allow the elves access to their records. To have the chance to compare early Sindarin runes to Khuzdul, even if it was technically one of our records, was enough to hope for. But it was sound reasoning, for they could hardly postpone the delegations while they found and sent back all the potential relics they could verify.
And so, I set out that night on the path north to the Vale of Thrain. I did pen a brief note for the dwarves to convey explaining my absence, but I realize now just how little such a message would have been believed. Which is why I have taken the time to compose this admittedly lengthy account of my endeavors. Furthermore I believe that when I return, and I have every confidence I shall, I will have the means of saving both our woodlands and the ships of the Havens. For it is likely the original charter will declare the timber-marked groves- both those maintained by us, and those lost since Edhelion’s fall.
