Chapter 35. Tamin Tries his Hand

In the weeks following Muhk’s demise, the green of the trees in Greenwood started to darken, and the Black Emperors disappeared one by one. The river deepened and darkened, and sometimes in the mornings one could descry the rims of ice round the rocks and coves deep beneath fern brakes and rocky dells. Mist like smoke hovered opalescent and still over the eaves of the wood, and the sky was clearer and brighter and bluer than beryl.

Bard returned to Dale, with accolade and the remnant of Esgaroth, but no bride; Princess Anóriel turned him down, as Tamin told Vé, flatter than a flat-iron, but as gently as possible under admittedly awkward circumstances. His proximity to the Elvenking, to Stonehelm of Erebor, and to the King of Gondor had more than elevated his status in his subjects’ eyes, and despite Meivel’s grim predictions, he had the makings of a “middling king,” as even Dwalin conceded. His generosity to the widowed and orphaned of Esgaroth became bruited abroad, and soon the tales of the remuneration accorded him from Muhk’s treasury afforded him the respect of the surrounding settlements. Many of the displaced villagers fled to him ere the autumn descended, and soon Bard discovered he had a surplus of farmers, coopers, herdsmen, woodsmen, hunters, and merchants at Dale’s service. Stonehelm reported to the Elvenking, with whom he now shared a deep friendship, that in his opinion, Bard would elevate Dale to surpass even its nascent splendor.

The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen returned, albeit briefly, to his birthplace. Happy were the Elvenking’s subjects to hail his coming, for he had been greatly missed, and all had regretted his move to Ithilien and the removal from his father’s halls (though perhaps Galion did not regret it as much as his fellows, and not to be wondered, considering their history). Dúrfinwen, now called Princess Anóriel, found herself cosseted and pampered and spoilt, and the Elven Queen so taxed the buttery concerning her dear girl’s comfort that the cooks and bakers held secret conference, wondering if their stores would suffice, or if they had need to appeal to the Beornings for honey and cream.

Gimli, though his father implored him to return to Erebor, chose to stay in the Elvenking’s abode a little while; he and Vé and Nír had discovered amongst the three of them a predilection to disperse treasure; as Búri and Dori brought back waggon-load after waggon-load of Muhk’s takings, between those three Dwarves and Dwalin they determined who was robbed of what, and to whom what should be returned. Indeed Vé became so good at this that he was promoted by Stonehelm to be one of his personal accountants; Búri put on so many airs about this that even Glóin felt obliged to snub him somewhat, though it had no effect.

The Right and Honorable Dwarven Ambassador (or Valambassador, as Dwalin insisted upon calling him) recovered from his injuries at his own pace, aided by his lovely and sharp-eyed wife, who likewise received from her queen’s tucking-mill gowns in red and deep blue and persimmon, and circlets of silver wound in copper wire, and belts with yellow and green gems. Kaimelas for his part appreciated his wife’s finery, though he complained loudly that such was her beauty that the acclaim of the Dwarves focused on the ambassador’s wife alone and not on his policy. Stonehelm did not seem to mind this at all.

So the Rhovanion summer wound down, and the ruins of Esgaroth smoldered until the rains came, hammering upon the blackened stumps and piles of brick and rotted ash. King Elessar stayed with the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen for some weeks, enjoying their hospitality and renewing many acquaintances within the Elvenking’s halls, and commenting every other evening meal that he surely ought to be heading back to his halls at Eriador, though his expectant looks at the Green Knight and the Lord of Aglarond went unheeded.

Legolas and Gimli seemed but little inclined to quit Rhovanion just yet; they were weary and sad still, and Legolas in particular seemed hesitant to return to a Dol Galenehtar without a Hobbit. Meivel and Liquíseleé had long since departed; Meivel admitted he must needs face Galás and take his medicine, and Liquíseleé acerbically asserted that, speaking of medicine, she ought to go back to her apothecary ere Ardún rearranged her stock so that she could not find anything anymore.

Tamin was at once pleased and disconcerted to reacquaint himself with those Elves of Lothlórien who had eschewed Ithilien for Eryn Lasgalen. The youngsters looked on him with wonder and envy, seeing his station as esquire, and his cousin Bragadel, the imp, attempted once to play a prank on him, but he descrying her motives gave her such a rap upon her backside that she smarted for a week, and gave it up. Indeed, ere his departure Meivel caught Bragadel in the middle of her preparations for a particularly complicated prank, to be perpetuated upon the Lord of Aglarond; his fit of temper coupled with flaming vituperation and cold dark eyes so terrified her she dismantled it at once; and upon learning from her cousin Tamin that his sister Andunië was possessed of an even more volatile temper, all it took from that point forward was for Tamin to threaten to send her to Dol Galenehtar’s huntsmistress, and her depredations ceased. They had no more trouble with her after that.

One evening, when the wind moaned and fluttered at the gates, and the clouds scurried greyly across the uneasy sky, and the sun settled herself in a bed of vermilion and black and green, Orophin, who commanded the post, came into the solar where sat Legolas and Gimli and Tamin and Dúrfinwen, and after distributing such letters to his superiors as was appropriate smiled at his sunny-haired nephew, and said: “Tamin! You have a letter.”

Tamin looked up. “I do, Uncle?” he said in surprise, rolling over upon the fur rug in front of the mantle where he had been teasing the Queen’s cat. “You are certain it is for me? I never get letters, and I am not even at home!”

“That does not preclude your getting letters however,” said Gimli from where he sat in a low chair, his feet on a cushion and his pipe between his teeth. “I have got a letter here from Nórin, who says he is in Dol Galenehtar with Galás; he has divined my presence and desirous of my return has sent it me here. No doubt this is likewise some correspondent from Ithilien, Tamin.”

Tamin rose and retrieved it, and brought it back to his Master’s feet. “Who is it from, my Tamin?” asked Legolas, stretching his legs out to the fire and taking a deep draught of ale.

Tamin broke the battered seal, and opened the envelope; he withdrew several sheets of vellum and examined them. He looked up then, his little face so white his uncle thought of fetching smelling-salts; he said in a small trembling voice: “It is from Fastred!” He glanced down again and added wonderingly, “And he writes in Elvish!”

“Propitious!” said Legolas with a smile. “Read it then, Little One, and if it is good news, let us know so we may rejoice with you; bad news however, and we shall commiserate. Sit upon that stool there, O Tamin; you will have better light that way.”

So Tamin in a fever of worry and apprehension did sit himself down, and spreading the parchment on his knee began to read.

Fastred Faramirion, Lord of Osgiliath, Heir-Presumptive of Rohan, and the biggest fool in Gondor,

To Tamin Rúmilion Esquire of the Green Knight of Dol Galenehtar, Traitor-Bane and Staunch if Misused Friend,

Greetings.

O Tamin, my friend, my dear dear friend, I am so sorry! I have been a fool, and an idiot, and ten different kinds of cad, and I do not deserve so good, so loyal, so pure and wonderful a friend as you! Oh, how can I express to you, O Tamin, my sorrow that I have caused you such distress, my remorse for my words and actions both, my regret for treating you with such callous disdain? I do confess to you, O my dearest, my devoted, my dependable friend, how nefariously I have treated you, disparaging your goodness, your honesty, your vibrancy in favor of such low, despicable, shallow and vain folk I did think erroneously were my favored companions! I have been a vile worm, undeserving your forgiveness, and indeed I do not expect it; for I have done you enormous disservice, speaking to you in vainglorious anger, insulting the purity of your motives, reproachful of your kind nature, and simply and horrifically because I am proud, and arrogant, and self-absorbed, and too heart-breakingly stupid and stubborn to bend! When I think, dearest Tamin, how I did say such evil things to you, accusing you of officiousness and audacity in defending my reputation, condemning you for your just violence, sanctimoniously declaring your actions vain whilst nurturing conceit and wounded vanity within my bosom, how does my soul rankle within me; how I do writhe in abasement and blame. For bitterly do I blame myself, O Tamin; I let my pride, my stubborn arrogance push you aside, and I have inconsolably regretted those terrible, spiteful, cruel words I spoke to you in the mortification of my vanity. The fault lies solely with me, Tamin; you have naught for which to blame yourself; I am culpable wholly, and do admit this full willing; I am contemptible before you, and deserve only your censure and not your forgiveness.

Yet humbly and contritely do I beg it of you, Tamin; dark and inhospitable have been my days without knowing your confidence is mine own, and long have been the hours spent in harsh culpability on your account. I grovel at your feet, Tamin, and plead with you, with the tender and just and merciful heart I know well you possess, to give to me another opportunity to prove myself to you. I miss you, Tamin; I miss you and your trust and loyalty and temperament most dearly; it would not be so bad that you are gone from me in body, but you are gone from me truly in spirit, and I have lost that gentle amity we once shared. I grieve for it as one grieves for a dearly loved friend in death, and my soul aches for reconciliation.

O please, dear Tamin, dearest and faithfullest and truest friend ever a boy could have, O Tamin, will you please forgive me? Please restore to me your love and friendship, Tamin; I am desolate without it, and think perhaps I shall go live with Uncle Éomer in Rohan when you return, because your proximity shall wound me so greatly; yet he is so unsympathetic you know, and anyway I would rather know you are close to me, even if we are parted in our spirits forever; it is the only consolation I yet bear.

Write to me, please, dear Tamin; even if your words bear naught but reproach and refusal; well do I deserve them, and at least I shall have some missive in your dear hand to comfort me, bearing it to the grave in my grief over the loss of so good, so kind, so benevolent a friend as Tamin Rúmilion!

Yours in tears and deepest regret,

Fastred

Tamin leapt to his feet then, and his Master, looking up from a letter writ in Faramir’s thin and elegant hand, blinked in surprise. “Tamin!” he exclaimed. “You are gone so white! What is it? Nothing grave I trust?”

“Oh, Master!” said Tamin breathlessly; his head felt very light and wobbly. “He is sorry – he says he is sorry – he begs me to forgive him – Oh, Master! Oh, oh, Uncle Orophin, Dúrfinwen, I mean Anóriel, parchment! Paper! A quill, a bit of charcoal! Oh, I must write to him at once!” Tamin fluttered hectically about the little solar, ransacking side-tables and window-seats for aught to write with; at last Orophin found one of King Thranduil’s secretaries, from whom he wrested vellum, ink, and quill; and throwing himself upon the floor, Tamin wrote feverishly:

Tamin Rúmilion, Esquire to His Highness Prince Legolas, Lord of Dol Galenehtar,

To Fastred Faramirion, Lord of Osgiliath, And Not a Fool at All so Do Not Even Think It,

Oh Fastred how happy I am, how I am filled with delight at your letter, I was so thrilled to receive it, well actually I was terrified, for when I saw it was from you I was so afraid you were still angry with me, and I was so unsure that I had done the wrong thing, even though my Master told me I did rightly and you accused me unfairly, it was so hard for me to understand how this had come about, but now you say you are sorry and I was right after all which means my Master was right too, which he usually is, though sometimes he is wrong though not often. And yes Fastred, of course I shall forgive you; I forgave you long ago, I think round about the second day we left Osgiliath, and O Fastred I am sorry too, for when I turned from you I cut you so, and O Fastred, please do you forgive me too, for I meant to hurt you when I did that, and it was cruel and unkind of me and I am so so sorry! I have missed you so much, Fastred, and I was so sorry our beautiful friendship was over, and I wept so at the thought that we should never ride or hunt or fish or swim together ever again, because I love you so, Fastred, and I do not have a brother so I wished to find a sort of brother in you, and I thought I had found it, but then we lost it and I was so sorrowful, and you are exactly right it is like grieving when someone dies. And O Fastred I do not know if you know, but Bandobras is dead, so I know precisely how it feels to grieve, it is a terrible thing, and when I think of him my throat gets all tight and my eyes fill with tears and my nose stings, and that O Fastred is how I felt when I thought of you, for I did not think I should ever see you again, and how it hurt me, Fastred! I have no friend in Arda like you, Fastred, and I shall never have again, and I have missed you so, and am so anxious to see you again! But we will be here some months more, Fastred, which at first I did not mind, because I did not feel like going back to Ithilien because you were there and we were not friends, but now we are friends again I am anxious to return, though I like Eryn Lasgalen well enough and the King and Queen are very nice, though I do not know if Dúrfinwen truly wishes to go back to Ithilien, which makes me very sad, for Dol Galenehtar will not be Dol Galenehtar if she is not there. I cannot wait to go back to Ithilien now, Fastred, and see you again; I miss you so, and I wish we could be together, for it is nice having your letter and knowing we are in congress but it would be so much better to be with you and to know we were side by side and could not be parted again! And Fastred, do please write to me again, it was splendid to hear from you, and now I want to know all the doings, so much has happened here, but it hurts still to write it because there were so many horrible things going on, and we have lost so many people, and such terrible things have happened to people I love, worse than death even, and I have seen such awful things I never will forget, though I wish I could; I wish I could cut out that part of my memory, Fastred, for it hurts me and I cannot forget it, try though I may. O Fastred, how I long to sit with you, and tell you everything, even the terrible things, and weep, I am not afraid to weep before you anymore, and I must be strong for my Master and for Lord Gimli and Dúrfinwen and may not weep before them, for then they feel sad too, but I must weep, Fastred, or I shall burst with grief. But it is not so bad now, Fastred, for we are friends again, and how I love you, Fastred, and I cannot wait to see you!

Your friend for ever,

Tamin

Six weeks is a very short time indeed for a letter to go from Rhovanion to Ithilien, for its recipient to read such letter, and for that recipient to reply and send his letter back; but the King’s post-stops were stout and warm, his couriers strong and brave, and his horses swift and tireless. So it came to pass that in six weeks’ time did a reply to Tamin’s missive arrive, and he breathlessly snatched it from his uncle’s hand, and ran through the Elven King’s halls to a quiet corner, where he broke the seal, and read:

Fastred Faramirion, Lord of Osgiliath, Heir-Presumptive of Rohan, still Daring to call Himself a Fool but a Happy One at Least,

To Tamin Rúmilion, Esquire of the Green Knight of Dol Galenehtar, Traitor-Bane, Possessor of the Softest Heart in Gondor and Rhovanion,

Greetings!

O Tamin my friend, how my heart leapt within me when I read your letter! You have made me, Tamin, the happiest boy in Ithilien – in Gondor – in the world! How relieved I am, my friend, that we are in sympathy once more, for you felt so far from me, and my world was so cold and empty without your amity; but now I know that though far from me in body we may congress in spirit, and soon I hope shall we congress in truth; I shall count the days ‘til your returning, and eagerly await the time in which we might embrace as those made closer than brothers.

I grieve with you, O Tamin, over Bandobras’ death; my Lord Father did receive from Lassah a full account of the deeds done and horrors visited, and O Tamin, I am so sorry such awful things have happened to you, and to the people you love. But Lassah did assure us that you comported yourself with wisdom, and bravery, and cunning, and steadfastness; I do not doubt this, indeed I have never doubted it, for you are such a fine soul, Tamin, and such a good and skilled warrior, that anyone would be thrice-blessed to have you on his side; indeed I have benefited from your strong arm before, Tamin, more recently than perhaps you realize.

Our news here is less exciting than yours, and sadly not even interesting or remarkable. Mother is doing fair; she sits all the time now, and is very weary; Father is rather worried, as are we all, for even her snap and temper are gone; when she was waiting for Théodred she was tired and ill to be sure, but at least she would shout at Hísimë and me if we misbehaved; now she simply sits there and stares, or embroiders; and she is got listless. Léodwyn never leaves her side; she is become a good nurse-maid, and her aunt Éodild is here, as is Ardun Liquíseleé’s servant, who with Léodwyn watches over Mother well. All Mother seems to complain about is that we fuss over her like a hen with one chick! Father is often at Minas Tirith, for as Steward he is higher in rank than King Elessar’s seneschal in the King’s absence; and as Mother is so indisposed I help Father all I can, and flatter myself I have set judgment and amercement well. I am looking forward to Elessar’s return from Eriador, especially in Spring, so that you and I might steal away and go fishing again!

Do not, O Tamin, get your hopes up that I mentioned Léodwyn; things are no better in that area. I am a fool. I have let slip through my fingers the greatest delight ever offered me, save your friendship alone. I knew, you know, O Tamin, the moment I met her that we would be friends; there was between her and me an amity similar to that which we two share, though I did not see it for what it was. What a stubborn, stupid, prideful fool I have been! Do you know, Tamin, what the last thing was that Bandobras Took said to me? He came to me the last night you were in Osgiliath, Tamin my friend, after you had given Halgond such a beating, and Mother sent me away; I was seething with chagrin and fury, Tamin, and so angry. But Bandobras came to me, his face so solemn, and I could tell he was angry too. At first I thought he was angry on my behalf; he soon disabused me of that notion though, for he set upon me like a terrier with a rat. I shall never forget his words: “You’re the biggest idiot in Osgiliath, Fastred my boy, and it otter of been you Tamin beat silly. He should’ve knocked some sense into that thick stupid head of yours, and you deserve every whipping Kaimelas can dig up. Friendship with Elves don’t come around every day, you thick fool; it’s only your selfish, stubborn pride makes you treat the folks who love you like this, and you don’t deserve a good friend at all if this is the way you repay ‘em, pushing ‘em away when they try to show you how much they love you.” And he shook his head at me then, Tamin, in disgust, and walked away from me. And though I dismissed it at the time, when I had come to myself I realized how right he had been, and how obtuse I had been to not see what I was doing. Do you know, I did the same thing to Léodwyn that I did to you? I did, Tamin; I am ashamed now to admit it, but it is the truth, and I shall tell you it. This was not her doing, Tamin; do not blame her; I drove her to it; I drove her away from me with my pride, my arrogance, my hubris; I was unwilling to concede, unwilling to bend, unwilling to compromise; I was self-righteous, self-absorbed, self-pitying. I spared no thought for how my actions might hurt her; I had mind only for myself and my own wants and feelings. What have I done! I have ruined everything, Tamin; I know that now; I know Halgond meant nothing to her; he is gone now anyway – she broke his nose again, you will be happy to hear – I feel so deceived – and so foolish! I had it within my grasp, Tamin – I had happiness the likes of which few men see, the same happiness accorded my poor father, accorded Elessar, Himbaláth, Kaimelas, Meivel – I had that same promise of happiness in the palm of my hand, Tamin; yet when we quarreled I in my pride threw it away as though it were nothing but dross. And now when I see her, Tamin, how I am grieved to recall it! She is so lovely, as well you know; I in mortification of spirit can say this to no one else, for they will but scorn me; but to you I can admit this; I love her, Tamin; I love her so deeply, so desperately, so painfully. To see her sitting by Mother’s side, reading out of a book to her; the light gleams on her honey-gold hair, on the long spiraling locks spilling down over her shoulders; her throat rises like a column of alabaster from the ruff of her gown, and her eyes like polished walnut glow warm. How I love to see her, see the curve of her cheek, the long tapered fingers, her dear pointed chin; how I pine for the sound of her voice, once so tender to me, now cold and deservedly aloof. And I have no right to say any of this to her, Tamin – I have killed her regard for me – I have destroyed whatever chance for happiness we might have had. I am miserably culpable, Tamin; I have over the course of this unhappy year blamed many for this, but the fault lies solely with me, and I shall humbly, contritely, and silently reap the consequences of my pride. And I miss her; I miss riding with her, sitting with her, I miss the sound of her voice, the touch of her hand. And how I miss you, Tamin; you would have words of comfort for me, or at least would sit in sympathetic silence listening to me; I can say this to no one, for I am solely to blame for this; she will never forgive me, and I cannot blame her one bit for it. So I fear I shall never wed, Tamin; I cannot, for my dear Léodwyn will not have me, and I can never have another; I sincerely hope Théodred weds and has children, for I do not see my poor Father having an heir otherwise, unless Mother is successful in this venture and produces another son.

O Tamin, how relieved I am in my mind now! You and I are friends again; and though I shall never be with Léodwyn, at least to you I can pour out my heart in its agonies; you are so dear to me O Tamin, and I miss you so. I shall never have a friend like you, Tamin; you are so gentle, so understanding. How I wish you were here! I miss you; can you not come home sooner? Aside from Hísimë and Théodred I have no confidants, and I cannot tell them what I tell you; my soul aches to congress with you, and I greatly desire your presence. But that shall come betimes, and with that I will be content. At least I have the knowledge that I await you in full trust of your friendship, dear Tamin! I am immeasurably grateful for that. And as for your bequest of forgiveness of me; it should be the grossest of effronteries for me to deny you this! You are forgiven; I blame you not for your turning away from me, for did I not drive you from me myself? O Tamin, I shall ever forgive you; not that I think you shall ever do anything needing forgiveness, for you are so good, so kind and temperate; any offenses would be initiated by mine own perversities.

Write to me, O Tamin! I greatly desire to see you again; but to have in my hand a missive from you, from my dearest friend, will be close enough!

Yours until death,

Fastred

This letter made Tamin pause, and he sat for some time contemplating it. The sun moved across the sky, and its light slowly traversed the room; the Queen’s cat chased its warmth, but Tamin was blind to its golden glow. His gray eyes were dim beneath his furrowed brow, for he was deep in thought, and that was not a place Tamin went to very often. Betimes he trembled with delight at some secret notion; then he would shudder thinking of unwanted consequences. At last he took him to a quiet library, and taking up a quill and a piece of parchment he began to write. He nibbled now and again on the tip of the quill when a thought impeded him, but at last he appeared satisfied with the results, and packaged everything up in an envelope to take to the post.

“This must be why my Master meddles in these affairs,” he thought excitedly, hearing the heavy missive thump in the bottom of the bag. “What delights might arise if I am successful! But oh, what trouble I shall bring, should I fail!” After some thought, he wandered round ‘til he found the lady he sought, sitting with her slippered feet upon a fender before a warm fire. Legolas sat beside her reading a book to her, and she worked with spindle-thin fingers at a fine tapestry. Her needle flashed in the firelight, and her beautiful cap glimmered round her narrow corded neck.

“Princess Anóriel,” he said, “I do not mean to interrupt, and Master, I am sorry for interrupting, but I do need to ask the Princess a question. It is not a matter of great import, thankfully, but still it is preying on my mind, and I would be grateful for your input, my lady.”

Dúrfinwen looked up at him and smiled; she was still too thin, but her dimples had reappeared with the liberal application of rich and fattening foods, and her brown eyes were warm and twinkled with secret mirth. Tamin’s heart swelled with relief and joy, and he hoped once again she would return to Dol Galenehtar to be its mercer. “It is of no moment, O Tamin,” said Dúrfinwen. “Whatever conundrum visits itself upon your fair little head, I should be delighted to aid you in unraveling.”

“What is it, Little One?” asked Legolas, setting the book on his lap. “Have you remembered something that you forgot to remember?”

“No, Master,” said Tamin. “But I need to tell Princess Anóriel that Fastred and Léodwyn have not yet made up their quarrel, but I know how to do it, if they both behave, but it will involve what she calls meddling.”

“And you want my permission; is that it?” asked Dúrfinwen, amused.

“Well, no,” admitted Tamin. “Forgiveness, my lady. I have already meddled, you see.”

Legolas gave a snort of laughter, quickly quelled; Dúrfinwen threw him an acerbic look and said: “Match-making must be catching, Tamin; I had thought to cure your Master of this, but it appears my lord has infected you with the selfsame disease!”

“But if it works, they will be happy,” said Tamin earnestly. “And they are so unhappy now, you know, my lady.”

“But what if it does not work, Tamin?” asked Dúrfinwen sternly. “What if by your meddling you make things worse than they were before?”

Tamin considered this. “I do not think I can, my lady,” he admitted. “Things are pretty bad already. I cannot but think anything would help, and that is why I meddled, my lady.”

“Forgive him, Anóriel!” said Legolas with a smile, laying his strong white hand on her thin silk-clad arm. “Indeed you must forgive him; for he meddles out of a sense of charity, not as do I, for I am overbearing and supercilious. And anyway, from what Faramir tells me, it is as bad as Tamin says, and if anyone can help, it is mine esquire.”

“And you will see to Fastred’s Lady Mother, will you not, Master?” asked Tamin anxiously. “She is so tired, and needs your especial talents when her time comes.”

“Trust me for that, my Tamin,” said Legolas comfortingly, opening his book again. “I do not plan to let my adopted sister languish. Now, sit you here at our feet, Little One; I read to Princess Anóriel that marvelous tale of Thongorodrim, and it is one which would behoove you to hear.”

Six weeks later, Tamin was packing up his Master’s things, for Legolas had finally declared it was time to go home. Tamin was glad, for he missed Dol Galenehtar, and Fastred and Théodred and Hísimë, but he was anxious too, for he had heard nothing in return for his meddling in Fastred’s affairs. What if Fastred and Léodwyn were angry with him? What if they had written, and the letter passed him on his way back down to Ithilien? What if they had not written because he’d muffed it so badly? He threw himself into the task of gathering and organizing and laying out and packing his Master’s clothes and armor and belts and boots and other tidbits, and when he was satisfied they were ready to be placed in the trunks, he took himself to the treasury, where sat Nír drinking comfortably with Vé and Methlon. From them he procured a receipt for his Master’s share of Muhk’s treasures, and several strong Elves to bring it up to the chambers for accounting; it took Tamin a good three hours to sift through it all and match it against the official document Stonehelm had signed, and when he was done, he was very hot and tired and hungry.

He trotted down to the stables, swinging by the buttery for a slice of bread and cheese, and wolfed them down while going carefully over the tack, bags, and fodder for the horses. Satisfied all was in good order, he indulged himself in a quick caress with Isilmë, only to be interrupted by his uncle, Orophin.

“There you are, nephew!” cried Orophin. “I am glad I caught you. I know you and your lord leave tomorrow, and did not want to have to send this back to Dol Galenehtar after you.” And he held out a thick envelope to Tamin, scrawled over in Fastred’s hand.

Tamin gulped, heart thumping. Fastred! Now he would see what his meddling had produced! “Thank you, Uncle,” he said weakly, and without bidding either Orophin or Isilmë farewell, he bolted up into the hayloft so he could be alone.

He admitted to himself he was nervous on the letter’s account, for he knew not what it contained therein; it was from Fastred, but Tamin could not tell from its envelope whether his plan had succeeded, and Fastred was grateful; or failed, and Fastred was angry. But, he determined, sitting in the musty hay holding the unopened letter would get him no forwarder; he must gird his loins and accept the consequences of his officiousness. He tore the envelope with trembling fingers and began to read.

Fastred Faramirion, Lord of Osgiliath, Besottedly Happy and Twice-Blessed to have both a Friend and a Lover,

To Tamin Rúmilion, Esquire to the Green Knight, Effulgent in Brilliance, Sly as a Serpent, yet Gentle as a Dove,

O Tamin, I cannot believe you did that to me; I ought to be angry I suppose, but as your trick was so efficacious I cannot but thank you for your interference! I truly had no idea, my friend, that you sent on that letter to Léodwyn, which contained therein my thoughts concerning her; certes it is I should never have thought to say such things to her, yet they being truth, did prick at her upon the discovery of them, so softening her heart that she found it within her own to come to me; I in mortification of spirit did attempt to dissuade her, but she with characteristic obduracy of purpose waylaid me quite, and I being overcome by her arguments was happily vanquished. What joy is mine now, O Tamin! For not only do I have my Léodwyn restored unto me, I have to stand by me my dearest, most clever friend Tamin Rúmilion, who seeing I yet writhed in inward-focused abasement sought to free me from this prison, and gave unto me instead of degradation honor and peace. What gifts you give to me, my friend! Not only do I bask in the grace of your forgiveness and amity; you have bestowed upon me once more the blessing of your kindliness, for Léodwyn is mine, mine, mine; I shall wed to her as soon as I can, and you shall stand for me, O Tamin my brother; Théodred admits the place is yours, for, he said, had it been up to him, I could have “moped over her for the rest of my life.” How clever you are, O Tamin! And now I repay to you what you have done for me; I send on to you a letter Léodwyn sent to me, so that you might see how your plans have come to fruition.

Thank you, thank you, Tamin Rúmilion!  I cannot wait to have you here with me again!

Yours ever,

Fastred

Included in the envelope were two slips of paper, reading:

O my dear Fastred,

I truly had no thought you were yet tender towards me. You are so cool; you hide your ardor well, yet here it is, though writ to another. Tamin is the best and dearest boy in the world, Fastred, and he shall ever be friend to us. Yes, O my Fastred; I say “us;” I dare yet that we shall be one day united, as I had hoped from the moment I saw you standing outside Queen Lothíriel’s door, a bottle of olive oil in your hands. I have loved you from that moment, my Fastred; abjure then this self-abasement, and come unto me again; mine arms are hungry to hold you.

Here is what Tamin sent me, along with the letter you sent to him. What a dear he is! And how we ought to love him for this! I declare I love him more than any one in the world save you; for you, O my Fastred, is reserved my best.

Yours, ever and always,

Léodwyn

Tamin Rúmilion, Esquire of the Green Knight of Dol Galenehtar,

To Léodwyn Daughter of Éoreth, Especial Handmaiden to Her Ladyship Éowyn of Emyn Arnen,

Greetings.

Léodwyn, I do beg your forgiveness for my presumption, but I thought you ought to read this, though it was not meant for your eyes but mine; however it is more suited yours than mine, for it concerns you and not me, and therefore I think it is necessary you should see it. You and Fastred both have been very stupid, but the time for blame-making and blame-taking is past; and it is high time you reconciled and had done with it, for there is enough hurt and heartache in the world without creating more of our own. So do please stop being stupid, and tell Fastred I said he needs to stop being stupid too, and go back to each other, and make up, and get married and treat each other well and set up a home together and have children and all those other things married folk do, for I am tired of waiting round for you to stop being stupid, and want this matter settled before I come back to Ithilien.

Again, I apologize, but really, this has gone on long enough.

Sincerely,

Tamin

“Well!” said Tamin to himself, greatly relieved. “No wonder my Master likes to match-make; it is heady stuff! But all the same I am glad my calculations worked out; I would not like to have faced Dúrfinwen, had I been wrong.” So whistling cheerily to himself he pocketed the letters, and trotted off to find his Master.