5: Calandil

The first session of the trade negotiations was scheduled to begin three Second Minglings after the feast. Valandur spent the time exploring the palace and its grounds with the others, including Intarion. Some of the others were not impressed with what they saw as they compared the Noldóran’s palace with the Ingaran’s.

“Ingwë’s palace is much grander,” Nolondilmë opined. “I am surprised how small this place is.”

“And not as ornate,” Sorondur added.

“It is the oldest building in the city,” Aldamir pointed out. “By the time Ingwë came to have his own palace built, we had more experience in the art of building in stone and were able to employ some architectural features that we had not thought of previously.”

“I think it’s quite lovely, myself,” Valandur ventured. Unlike the others, he had no immediate experience of living and working in any palace. “This palace may be smaller, but that is not a bad thing. The one time I visited the Ingaran’s palace I was thoroughly lost in a matter of minutes.”

“Still, you have to admit there’s something… shabby about the place,” Sorondur said.

“I have to admit to no such thing, Sorondur,” Valandur said mildly. “You need to be less haughty in your opinions. This is the oldest Eldarin-built edifice and we should all be proud of the effort that went into building it. Unlike any of you, I was there when the cornerstone was set and I was there when the final capstone was put into place. We were all very proud of ourselves for accomplishing such a feat when all our previous experiences in building anything had been rude huts and flets in the trees.”

The others had thoughtful looks on their faces. Valandur noticed Intarion smiling at him in approval as they sauntered out into one of the gardens and smiled back.

During the same time, Valandur also sent messages to his friends, informing them of his presence and suggesting that they all meet at the Rose and Crown for dinner. He was pleased when replies began trickling in with warm words of welcome and agreement to meet but the one reply he was looking for did not come: he heard nothing from Calandil and wondered if he had lost his otorno’s love in some manner. He could not imagine what he might have done for Calandil to snub him and he fretted over what to do. Thus, he was surprised when one of the pages approached him as he was about to sit for lunch two days after the feast, telling him that he had a visitor. He followed the youngster through the wing and back to the front foyer where he discovered an ellon standing before the fountain admiring it.

“Calandil!”

The ellon turned and held out his arms in greeting and the two embraced, giving each other hearty hugs before stepping back. “I decided to deliver my reply to your message in person,” Calandil said. “Valar! But it is good to see you again, otorno.”

“I did not know what to think when I heard nothing from you,” Valandur admitted. “All our other friends responded to my messages but…”

“I am sorry if I upset you in any manner, Valandur,” Calandil said sincerely. “As I said, I wanted to deliver my reply in person. But look at you! A loremaster and a member of the trade delegation. The first I can understand but the second makes no sense. You know nothing of trade and are ignorant of the finer points of bargaining, as well I know from the many times I’ve gotten you to do my bidding without you demanding something from me in return.”

Valandur laughed. “I was about to sit down for lunch. Why don’t you join me and I will tell you all about it.”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t you join me instead?”

Valandur hesitated. “I’m not sure…”

“Is your presence required at the meal?” Calandil enquired and Valandur shook his head. “Then I see no problem. Come. We will not go far. There is a small tavern nearby that makes an excellent venison pie.”

“I will just have someone inform the others,” Valandur said in capitulation. “The last time I left without leaving word, I got into some trouble with Lord Ingoldo.”

Calandil raised an eyebrow. “You will have to tell me about it. Honestly, Valandur, there are times when I despair for you.”

It was Valandur’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that sometimes I wonder at your innocence. There are times when I think you are younger than the elfling born yesterday.”

Valandur blushed. “I’m sorry. I’m completely out of my depth here. I still think Ingwë was wrong to ask me to be a member of the delegation. I have no background in any of this and all these nobles make me… ill at ease.”

Calandil gave his otorno a sympathetic look and clapped him on the shoulder. “You know I am only teasing. You are an estimable ellon and I am very proud of your achievements. Now, leave your message and let us go.”

Valandur nodded and looked about to see if there was anyone whom he could send and spied one of the pages hurrying through the foyer heading toward the north wing. He called to the elleth who stopped and gave him a courteous bow.

“My lord wishes something?” she asked.

“No lord am I, child,” Valandur replied with a smile. “I am just a humble loremaster.” He ignored the quiet snort from Calandil. “I need to leave a message for Lord Ingoldo that I am leaving the palace to dine with a friend and will return by First Mingling.” He cast a look at Calandil who nodded.

The elleth bowed. “I will gladly relay the message, Loremaster.”

“Thank you,” Valandur said and the page left. Calandil took Valandur’s arm and linked it with his own.

“Let us wait until we are at the tavern before you tell me all about how you happen to be here,” he suggested and Valandur nodded and they occupied their time as they walked out of the palace, crossing the plaza and into the street that bordered the palace leading to the south gate, speaking of inconsequential things until Calandil brought him to a small tavern that abutted against the palace wall. Valandur looked at the sign hanging over the door.

“The Golden Hare?” he asked, looking at his friend in surprise. “I do not recall ever seeing this place before.”

Calandil grinned as he ushered Valandur inside. “It was originally some Vanya’s home. I have no idea whose. The present owner of the place converted it into a tavern and lives upstairs with his family. It’s quite popular with the younger generation and they do make the best venison pie.”

“Then why is it not called ‘The Golden Hart’ instead?” Valandur asked as Calandil opened the door for him. “That would make more sense.” Calandil just shrugged, unable to give him an answer.

Inside, Valandur saw a very warm and welcoming place with tables laid out covered with colorful cloths, which was unusual. It was rare even in his own home for his ammë to cover their dining table with cloth except on special occasions. He could not imagine how much washing had to be done to clean all the inevitable spills from the patrons. Calandil led him to a small table in the corner that was covered with a dark green cloth. An oil lamp sat in the center and one of the servers came over and lit it for them. Calandil ordered the venison pie with frumenty and some Tirion red for them both. The server soon returned with a bottle of wine and a couple of goblets assuring them that their meal would be forthcoming.

“So tell me how you came to be here,” Calandil said as he poured the wine.

“I was summoned to attend the High King. He admitted having actually read my thesis.”

Calandil gave him a warm smile. “It is a worthy thesis. Have you had the chance to discuss it with Prince Fëanáro or one of the lambengolmor here in Tirion?”

Valandur shook his head. “Not yet.” And truth to tell, he did not care if he ever discussed anything with the prince or his fellow loremasters. Calandil gave him a shrewd look as if he could tell what Valandur was thinking.

“So what exactly is your purpose here? You’re a lambengolmo, not a merchant.”

“I will not be involved in the actual negotiations,” Valandur answered after taking a sip of wine. The server came just then with the venison pies and frumenty and Valandur waited until he was gone to speak again. “My task is to observe only, to pay attention to the way people are speaking or not speaking as they work on the agreement.”

“Yet why?” Calandil asked, obviously confused.

“Ingwë is aware that our two clans have drifted apart in many ways, including language. He wishes to know to what extent there has been a drift and how it may affect the way we communicate with one another. There is the danger of unintended confusion because we may no longer be speaking the same language.”

“If that is the case, then it seems odd that you and I are conversing quite nicely,” Calandil retorted with a grin.

“Oh we are still comprehensible to one another. Our languages have not drifted that far apart, but we are already seeing dialectal differences. Your insistence on using súlë in place of the older and more correct thúlë is a case in point. It’s a minor change but I know from discussions with my friends in Vanyamar that many of them think the pronunciation uncouth.”

Calandil shrugged. “Yet, that change occurred some yéni ago. It was a slow change as I recall. I am not even sure when I started unconsciously using the new pronunciation.”

“And that’s my point. The changes are not immediate and most people are unaware of them. Only the loremasters who are interested in such things have been more aware of what has been happening as our two clans drift further apart. And I suspect the changes are even more prevalent among the Teleri.”

“Actually, my experience the few times I’ve conversed with any of the Teleri is that they maintain an even more ancient usage than the Vanyar. I think it’s because of their isolation.”

“No doubt,” Valandur said.

“As for the Noldor, even we are not consistent with our pronunciations. There are some, like Prince Fëanáro, who champion the older pronunciation, though I think it has less to do with the possibility of confusing root bases, which has been the main argument against the change, than it has to do with his ammë. Neither Finwë nor Indis use the older pronunciation and that irks the prince to no end.”

“Hmm… that’s interesting. I did not know that, but then I haven’t spoken to the queen yet. I did notice Finwë using súlë. I could see a number of those in our delegation trying not to wince.”

Calandil gave him a disdainful look that was ruined by the gleam of humor in his eyes. “You Vanyar are a haughty bunch.”

“Comes with long practice,” Valandur retorted. “Hmm… this pie is excellent. Thank you for bringing me here. Next time I want venison pie, I’ll be sure to come here.”

Calandil nodded. “It’s a good place and close to the palace in case you want to step out for a short time to indulge in a quiet cup of wine or ale without half the palace inhabitants breathing down your neck. In fact, I don’t think most of them are even aware of this place.”

“Just as well,” Valandur said, then decided to change the subject. “I overheard a conversation between three ellyn the other day when I snuck out of the welcoming feast and went to the Rose and Crown. Do you remember Minalcar? He traveled with my family when his parents and siblings decided to follow Lenwë rather than brave the river and the mountains.”

“Of course! Minalcar! Why I haven’t thought of him in a very long time. I don’t think we even run in the same circles.”

“Snob,” Valandur retorted with a grin and Calandil chuckled.

“So, you met Minalcar at the inn. I bet he was surprised to see you.”

“Actually, I did not speak with him. He has a son now and a grandson. I did not even know who he was at first. I had to ask the barkeep for his name. I would have spoken to him then but my friends who hunted me down were waiting to return to the palace. I have thought to enquire as to where he lives and works and perhaps drop in to give him my greetings.”

“And why haven’t you?”

“I haven’t really had the time and frankly I’m not sure of the propriety of it all. It’s not really Minalcar I’m interested in but his grandson, Nambarauto.”

Calandil’s eyes widened. “Interested in what manner?”

“As I said, I happened to overhear their conversation and some of Nambarauto’s views intrigued me. I wish to speak to him about them, but, of course, I would need an introduction from Minalcar.”

“I can make enquiries,” Calandil suggested. “It should not be hard. Do you know the name of Nambarauto’s atar?”

“Eldacáno.”

“Eldacáno! Why he is one of the best coppersmiths in the city. He does exquisite work. I did not realize he was the son of Minalcar. And now I recognize the name Nambarauto. He works with his atar and is nearly as talented as Eldacáno. I do not know about Minalcar, though.”

“Do you know Eldacáno personally?” Valandur enquired.

“No, but Aldarion does,” Calandil replied, naming one of their friends. “He can give you an introduction.”

Valandur nodded. “Then I will ask him when we meet at the Rose and Crown for dinner. You will be there, won’t you? You never said.” He gave his friend a sly grin and Calandil laughed.

“Yes, otorno, I will be there, I promise.”

They continued visiting with one another, enjoying their meal and the wine, but eventually, Valandur decided he needed to return to the palace, reluctant though he was to bring their visit to a close. “Tomorrow is the first session of the negotiations,” he said, “and there is a lot of preparation. I’m not really involved, but I think I should be there, since I am a member of the delegation.”

“Yes, we do not wish you to be in trouble with Lord Ingoldo,” Calandil said.

“I do not think he likes me, or at least, he does not like me here. I have the feeling Ingwë forced me on him and he resents it.”

“Do you think he thinks Ingwë asked you to spy on him?”

“Probably. That would explain his hostility toward me. Either that or he just doesn’t care to associate with anyone who isn’t a noble.” Valandur shrugged. “At least his son, Intarion, seems genuinely to like me and I like him. He helped me out of a bad spot with his atar and Finwë, giving me good advice.”

“What about the others? Do they resent you?”

“Not as far as I can tell. They’ve been kind and speak to me as if we are equals.”

“And you are equal to any of them,” Calandil insisted hotly. “You earned your loremaster’s robe. I know how hard you studied and worked to become one. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Valandur. You were on the Great Journey and, except for Ingoldo, I doubt anyone else in the delegation can say the same.”

“They were all born here,” Valandur said.

“So you see? You are older and wiser than they and they should be grateful for your presence. You remember what it was like for us before we reached these shores, you know what we endured to get here and you know what we had to do once we got here to make a home for ourselves. So what if your family is not noble? How did we even decide who was and who wasn’t in the first place?”

Valandur gave him a sly grin. “Probably those of us who refused to lift a finger to help in building Tirion became its nobles.”

Calandil laughed. “You’re probably right about that. But you see my point, Brother? You are as worthy, if not more so, as anyone else and don’t let anyone else tell you differently.”

Valandur nodded, then gave his friend a shrewd look. “Do you resent us leaving? The Vanyar, I mean. Do you resent us abandoning you for Vanyamar?”

For a long moment Calandil did not answer, staring into the depths of his goblet as if he were searching for something. Finally, he looked up. “I admit that at first I was hurt and confused. I did not understand why anyone would want to leave this place and when you told us you were, I felt... betrayed.”

“I am sorry—” Valandur started to say but Calandil waved away his apology.

“There’s no need to apologize, Valandur. Over time I began to see things in a different light and I realized that perhaps the Vanyar seeking their own place was a good thing for their own sake, if not for ours. I will not lie and say that after you all left, walking the near empty streets was not difficult and depressing. For some time afterwards I kept finding myself walking up Alvemallë to your house, wishing to share something with you, only to stop in dismay when I realized you were no longer there.”

“And there were times when I would be occupied with some task and turn to speak with you or one of our friends to find that I was alone. It was not easy for me, either,” Valandur reminded him.

“No, of course not. I know how long you agonized over the decision to leave. Not all the Vanyar did, you know. Some remained behind out of love for us, but they were few and everything was different. As I said, it took some time to reconcile myself to it all.” He brightened a bit. “But that is the past and we remain otornor and that is all that matters, right?”

“Yes, that is all that matters.”

“So, let’s get you back to the palace before Ingoldo sends out the guard to hunt you down.”

Valandur laughed. “He would, too.”

Calandil insisted on paying for their meal, saying that Valandur could get the first round of drinks when they and their friends met at the Rose and Crown. “After all, you’re the one who invited us, not the other way around.” He gave his friend a sly look and Valandur laughed. They parted at the front gate leading into the plaza that fronted the palace.

“I will ask Aldarion about Eldacáno,” Calandil said in parting.

“Thank you and thank you for the meal.”

“You are most welcome, otornya,” Calandil said with a smile, giving him a final hug before leaving. Valandur watched him saunter off, sighing as his friend disappeared around a corner, and then he went through the gate and headed across the plaza to the palace.

****

Alvemallë: Elm Street.

Otornya: My (sworn) brother. Contracted from otornonya; cf. atya from atarinya and yonya from yondonya.