24: Settling In

They returned to the Tower Hills in good time, arriving late in the afternoon, loaded down with fish and succulents and the roll of leather on which was painted the inventory. Once they had rested and had had some dinner, everyone gathered in the west tower where Glóredhel unrolled the leather strip before the assembled Elves.

“Basically, I categorized items by what they were,” she told them. “You can see that gemstones of various types and qualities are more prevalent than other types of treasure, such as gold plate or silver. There is nothing of wood or other perishable materials, only imperishable gemstones, metals and even some stone carvings.”

“Anything that we can use ourselves?” Damrod asked before anyone else.

Ragnor shook his head. “Not really, unless we find a ready market for gemstones. If there were some Dwarves hanging about....”

People chuckled at that.

“There was one thing we found that we decided to bring back,” Maglor said and nodded at Arthalion who brought out the necklace and the others gasped in surprise as it was passed around. “Voronwë says it’s Celebrimbor’s work or possibly from that school, as there’s no jeweler’s mark to indicate who made this.”

One or two nodded as they examined the piece. Maglor turned to Arthalion. “Tell them where you found it.”

Arthalion hesitated for a moment as all eyes fell on him and then he gave a small shrug and explained how he had found the necklace. There was much shaking of heads by the time he finished his narrative.

“I cannot believe no one took anything belonging to Gil-galad of a personal nature,” Denethor said with a frown. “You would think Círdan at least….”

“Who can say?” Maglor rejoined with a shrug. “At least this one piece was saved and if… I mean, when we reach Dor Rodyn we can at least give him this. I find it curious that it was in its own coffer and tucked away from everything else, at least according to Arthalion. You said you almost missed seeing it, didn’t you?”

Arthalion nodded. “I was actually leaving the room and just happened to notice a glint of metal on the bottom shelf. I had to bend down to see it. There was nothing else on that shelf or even on the shelf above, just that one coffer. All the others were on the upper shelves within easy reach.”

“Well, perhaps when we see Gil-galad again and give him this we can ask him about it,” Denethor said handing the necklace back to Arthalion. “Would you keep this safe for us, Arthalion?”

The ellon gave Denethor a surprised look, a look that mutated to one of pride at being given this task, and he nodded. “I will keep it safe,” he said simply and he tucked it back into the makeshift cloth bag that had been hastily constructed for it by one of the ellith in their party as they were returning to the Towers, using material cut from one of her muslin shifts. Denethor thanked those who had gone to Mithlond, praising their efforts in fishing and gathering and in inventorying Arthalion’s cave. “It would have been nice to have found something in Arthalion’s cave that would be immediately useful to us—”

“Like a ship ready to sail?” Maglor couldn’t help interjecting with a grin and there were chuckles all around.

Denethor just rolled his eyes then continued what he was saying, giving Maglor a glare, though his eyes were bright with barely suppressed humor. “But it’s better to know that we’re no worse off than before than not know anything at all. You did excellent work, all of you.”

“Do you anticipate another trip to Mithlond soon?” someone asked and Maglor realized it was one of those who had yet to see the ruined city.

“I think we can risk one more fishing trip before the weather makes it too dangerous to make the trip,” Denethor replied. “Damrod, would you be willing to lead the next group to go?”

Damrod nodded. “We can leave tomorrow if you like. The sooner we go, the sooner we’re back and I don’t wish to be stranded in the city if the weather turns against us, which it is bound to do and probably sooner than we expect.”

“Then those of you who have not yet been to Mithlond may go if you so desire, but let’s keep this trip short. Once at the city, stay no longer than three days.”

Damrod nodded and stood. “Anyone who hasn’t been to Mithlond and wishes to go should be ready to leave at dawn.”

At that, the meeting broke up and most people scattered to go about their own business, those who would be leaving in the morning asking their friends who had already been to the city questions about it. Maglor remained by the fire sipping on some tea. Across from him Glóredhel rolled up the leather strip but otherwise did not move away. He watched her as she sat staring into the fire and there was that same wistful look that he had seen before on her.

“Finduilas said you were a loremaster,” he commented, breaking the silence that had settled around them. They were alone, or at least, there were no others huddled around the fire. Even Arthalion had left with Ragnor and Denethor.

Glóredhel looked up and shrugged. “A long time ago when the world was greener,” she replied.

“May I ask what your specialty was?”

For some minutes, she did not reply, simply stared into the fire. Finally, she spoke, never lifting her gaze. “Metallurgy.”

Maglor raised an eyebrow. “Me, too. I spent many a day in Lord Aulë’s forge learning the properties of various types of metals and alloys.”

Glóredhel gave him a mirthless grin. “Whereas I spent my days in Lord Elrond’s library reading every tome and treatise I could find on the subject for my ada would not let me near any forge. He said it was unseemly for an elleth, but I had no desire to sit and learn to embroider or sew or weave or even cook, all the things he considered proper for one of my station.”

“And what was your station?” Maglor asked.

She gave a rather unladylike snort. “The daughter of an Imladrin guard. Ada was a Noldo, but you can see I am not. Nana was a Sinda, actually she was Sindarin and Silvan, coming originally from Lothlórien. She and Ada met when Lord Elrond was courting the Lady Celebrían.”

“And not being a full-blooded Noldo, your adar felt you were not worthy to become a loremaster?” Maglor asked with a frown.

“Say rather, he did not believe that the daughter of an Imladrin guard should aspire to such a lofty position.”

“Which really makes no sense,” Maglor said with some disgust at what he considered wrong thinking.

Glóredhel shrugged. “He had his opinions about propriety. Lord Elrond however was not impressed by his arguments.”

“Oh? So, he insisted you should be allowed to work in the forge?”

“No. He would not go against Ada’s wishes in that respect, saying that he had not the right, even if he had the power to do so. Instead, he appointed me an assistant to Lord Erestor who just happened to need to know everything there was to know about metallurgy for some mysterious project about which he never spoke and apparently never undertook.” She gave him a grin that was just this side of wicked. “So naturally, he had me research everything I could about the subject and when Ada was out on patrol I was often sent to the forge on some pretext or another with orders not to return to the library too soon. I never took a turn at the bellows but the smiths were kind enough to speak to me about how they did their work.” She gave a small shrug. “It was little enough, but it was what it was and Lord Elrond did consult me on matters concerning metals and their properties on more than one occasion so I was able to use what I had learned to good purpose.”

“And your naneth, how did she feel about it?”

“Oh, she did her best to teach me the finer arts proper to an elleth but finally gave up, insisting I must have some Dwarf blood in me to be more interested in dead metal than in living plants. Being part Silvan and having lived in Lothlórien she was more attuned to growing things and helped to oversee Lord Elrond’s orchards.”

Maglor nodded, thinking about his cousins, Galadriel and Aredhel, and how both had been allowed to work in Lord Aulë’s forge, though Aredhel did not pursue her studies much. Galadriel, however, had been quite proficient in the handling of metals as she had been in doing most anything. He half smiled at that, remembering her constant rivalry with all her male cousins and Aunt Eärwen’s despair of ever taming her daughter. Of course, Galadriel was an excellent weaver and that skill apparently had been improved with Melian’s tutoring. He remembered Finrod commenting once that Eru must have had a glint in his eyes when Galadriel was conceived because she was so impossible at times. As Maglor recalled, he himself had merely shrugged, sisters not being something with which he had any direct knowledge.

“What’s so funny?” Glóredhel asked.

Maglor realized he must have chuckled out loud while thinking about his cousin and gave Glóredhel an embarrassed look. “Oh, I was just thinking of my cousin Galadriel and how she had been allowed to be tutored by Lord Aulë’s Maiar.”

“And that thought you found humorous?” Glóredhel cast him a disbelieving look.

Maglor shook his head. “No, it was remembering a comment Finrod once made about his sister being impossible. Galadriel was always a force to be reckoned with and when she married Celeborn, well, that certainly set the cat among the pigeons for both the Noldor and the Sindar. Maedhros was especially vocal about his disapproval, so much so, that I actually walked out on him and returned to my own steading when I had been visiting him one time at Himring.”

“So you approved of the marriage?”

“No, not necessarily. I just wearied of Maedhros going on about it. I only met Celeborn once at the wedding, but I liked what I saw and, over the ages when he and Galadriel were here, I watched them together, though from a distance, and could see he loved her and she him and I think he was the only one who could have dealt with her as a husband. I had the impression that Celeborn was unimpressed by her histrionics and was quite able to put her in her place when needed and curb her… enthusiasms.”

Glóredhel raised an eyebrow at that but did not comment. Instead, she stood, picking up the roll of leather. “I had better put this someplace safe,” she said and when Maglor simply nodded in agreement she walked away. He remained by the fire for a few more minutes before deciding to go see what Arthalion was up to.

****

The day after the last party left for Mithlond the aqueduct was completed and when the dam was removed, they were all on hand, those who were still at the settlement, to watch as the water flowed along the trough. It was not yet covered in its entirety so they were able to track it and when the water reached the cistern and began filling it, they actually cheered. It was decided to wait until the cistern was filled before covering the trough completely.

“How do we keep the cistern from overflowing though?” someone asked.

“Or the pool at the spring if we block the trough?” another chimed in.

“We’re not completely daft,” said one of those who had been a part of the aqueduct project. “We’ve constructed a sluice gate opposite the trough. If we have to block the trough for a time, we’ll open the sluice and let the spring flow in the other direction. Close the sluice and it will pool again and then we can open the trough.”

“Excellent work,” Denethor said approvingly. “You should all be very proud of yourselves.”

The aqueduct engineers, as they liked to refer to themselves, all stood a little straighter at Denethor’s words and Maglor nodded in agreement. With Damrod gone to Mithlond, Denethor had appointed him as his lieutenant even though Maglor had protested, saying that Ragnor would be the better choice. Ragnor, however, had disagreed and had insisted that Maglor should be Denethor’s second-in-command.

“I’m better at following orders than giving them,” he had said.

Maglor had given him a disbelieving look. “I didn’t notice you having any difficulty giving orders while we were in Mithlond.”

Ragnor had merely shrugged and in the end Maglor had acquiesced, though reluctantly.

“Yes, as excellent a job as I have ever seen given our lack of just about everything,” he said to the engineers. “I doubt others with all the proper tools could have done any better if they tried.”

One of the engineers had grinned. “If we had had the proper tools, we would have been able to construct a true aqueduct rather than this pitiful trough.”

“That you were able to construct this much, however pitiful it may seem, speaks well of your skills, ingenuity and intelligence,” Maglor rejoined. “You have nothing to be ashamed of and everything to be proud of and that goes for all of us. In the short time we’ve been here we’ve been able to turn this desolate place into a workable and livable settlement that will see us safely through the coming winter.”

“Maglor speaks truly,” Denethor chimed in. “So, let us celebrate this engineering feat with song and cheer.” To that, they all agreed, and they lifted their voices in thanksgiving to both Aulë and Ulmo as they returned to the settlement where the cooks made a fish stew, a welcome break from goat and venison.

****

By the time Damrod’s party returned from Mithlond loaded with more fish and succulents, the remainder of the building projects were completed. They now had a covered walkway between the west and south towers and another leading to the north tower, though that one was really a tunnel constructed of snow and ice. The north tower was completely opened to the sky but they had put up two of their tents over the two deep latrines they had dug, thus providing sufficient cover for anyone using  the privies. The dirt that was dug up was piled outside the tents so it could be used to cover the waste. There had been some concern about the dirt being snow-covered and frozen and in the end all the dirt was piled against the tower wall where it was only Elf-high and then a canopy was created from a patchwork of goat and deer hides and placed over it. It was the best they could do and they hoped that what remained of the tower would help insulate the dirt so it would not freeze over.

 “I think we are in good shape to survive the winter,” Denethor said where he, Maglor and Damrod stood surveying the settlement.

“We’ve sent out more hunting parties to secure as much meat as possible,” Damrod said with a nod. “It’s going to be monotonous fare but we won’t starve.”

“Why haven’t we simply corralled some of those goats?” Maglor asked. “We could certainly use the milk to make cheese and such to supplement our diet.”

“I thought about that, but decided it might not be worth the trouble,” Denethor answered. “These goats are completely wild and I, for one, don’t fancy having to domesticate them and then when we leave, what happens to them then?”

“Perhaps in the spring we can take some of the kids and raise them,” Maglor said. “They won’t know anything else.”

“Do you seriously think we’ll still be living here come spring?” Damrod asked. “We’re supposed to be finding the Straight Road, not colonizing this place.”

“True, but we may not be able to find the Straight Road immediately,” Maglor pointed out. “We may have to spend some time in exploration. We need to determine how far the sea has receded. We need to decide how we may best achieve the goal of reaching Dor Rodyn. We may well have to stay here for many centuries until the ice has receded and we can harvest seeds from the trees in Tûm Ivon and begin growing the wood we’ll need to build a ship to take us there.”

Both Denethor and Damrod sighed and Maglor gave them a thin smile. “Were you hoping that a ship would be waiting for us or perhaps an odd island for Lord Ulmo to tow?”

Denethor gave him a rueful look. “Something like that,” he admitted and Damrod nodded, looking equally chagrined.

Maglor’s grin became wider. “So did I, but the sad truth is that neither is likely to happen, but we should not despair. Look what we did with this settlement. It’s crude, yes, and rather unlovely, but it’s a testament to our ingenuity and ability to use what is at hand to our best advantage. I never truly thought that reaching the Blessed Realm would be easy, indeed, I think it impossible, but I’m at least willing to try and if we must needs remain here or even remove ourselves to Mithlond for a time, what of it? Are we not Elves? We’ve survived this long in Middle-earth, certainly we can survive a little longer and in the meantime we can resurrect some of our lost skills to prepare ourselves for building the ship that will take us home.”

“And we have the winter to formulate such plans,” Denethor said with a nod. “Thank you for reminding me of that, Maglor. I guess I was being too hopeful.”

“No, Denethor, not too hopeful, just not hopeful enough,” Maglor said and when both Denethor and Damrod gave him puzzled looks he went on. “I think we have all been under the delusion that this journey would be easy, that the Belain would have everything laid out for us without us having to do anything except show up. But don’t you see? That’s too easy and dependent on no real hope, merely an expectation. As disheartening as the thought of having to wait out centuries before we can ever achieve our goal of reaching Dor Rodyn may be, yet that way lies our greatest hope because we will have achieved the task ourselves instead of having it all done for us by the Belain. I don’t know about you but I think I prefer that to having Lord Ulmo towing us to Dor Rodyn like so many lost sheep.”

For a moment, neither of the other two ellyn spoke, their expressions thoughtful. Then Denethor nodded, clapping Maglor on the shoulder. “You’re absolutely right, my friend, and I thank you for pointing out the error of my thinking. We call ourselves the Harthadrim. It’s about time we lived up to that name in deed as well as in thought.”

“Perhaps while we are waiting out the winter we can determine what skills each of us has and how we can best utilize them to achieve our ultimate goal.”

“Glóredhel is a metallurgist and I have knowledge of smithing as well. We could create a forge that will allow us to begin creating the various implements we will need. There may well be a forge somewhere in Mithlond and we have plenty of gold, silver, mithril and other metals in the form of plates and goblets and such lying about in Arthalion’s cave that we can use while we hunt for the remains of the mines that have to be somewhere in the mountains. Belegost was situated somewhere in the southern Ered Luin and we should hunt for it come spring.”

“Yes, that’s excellent and that’s what we all need to do,” Denethor said and Damrod nodded. “When we are all gathered this evening, I will speak on this. We might as well begin now in thinking about such matters.”

With that, he and Damrod set off to check on how the aqueduct was holding up while Maglor went to find Ragnor, who was taking his turn at sentry-go in the west tower, with the intention of asking if he could join in the next hunting party that was due to set out the next day. He found that staying in the settlement day after day left him feeling restless and he needed to be away for a time. He thought perhaps he could convince Arthalion to join them and see what hunting skills the ellon might have.

As he came to the tower entrance he happened to glance southwestward to where he could see the snow-covered peaks of the Ered Luin rising some fifty miles away above the crest of the hills before him and wondered what they might find when they finally reached the mountains.