11: Renewing Acquaintances

It was early enough in the day that the tavern was virtually empty so they had no trouble finding a table. Minalcar ordered a bottle of Aramalina, a popular yellow wine served chilled, and once they were served and left alone, he gave Valandur a shrewd look.

“So, Quisero, why did you not come and greet us when you saw us at the Rose and Crown?”

“Why didn’t you, Aikaldamor?”

“Seriously, that was your name, Atto?” Eldacáno asked, disbelief warring with amusement in his eyes.

“And Quisero,” Nambarauto chimed in, “what kind of name is that, or Tyulinhilmo? Do they even mean anything?”

The older Elves gave each other amused looks. Finally, Valandur spoke, putting on his ‘loremaster-mien’, as his students liked to call it. “You have to understand, our language has evolved from very primitive roots over time and in the time of our sojourning at Cuiviénen and later, during the Great Migration, we were constantly inventing new words, discarding older forms when we discovered a more mellifluous way of saying something. That was as true for our names as for anything else.”

“But what do those names mean?” Nambarauto demanded. “And your name, Aldarion, what was it? It’s not fair that we’ve learned everyone else’s secret name. You should tell us yours.”

“Sorry, but that’s my secret,” Aldarion said somewhat haughtily.

Valandur, sitting next to Nambarauto, smiled wickedly and leaned over to whisper in the younger ellon’s ear.

“Hey!” Aldarion protested, divining what the Vanya was doing.

Nambarauto’s eyes widened. “Seriously? But why?”

But Valandur refused to say, simply grinning widely, while Aldarion glared at him.

“So what was his name?” Eldacáno asked, looking frustrated.

“Luksondil,” Nambarauto replied.

Eldacáno raised an eyebrow. “Well, I see some words didn’t change in all this time. So just why were you called that, my friend?”

“A long story,” Aldarion said. “My atto was… inventive in the names he gave his children.”

“Well, yours was quite descriptive of your interests,” Minalcar retorted. “You still play with mud even today.”

“Clay,” Aldarion corrected. “I work in clay.”

Minalcar waved a hand in dismissal. “Mud, clay, it’s all the same to me.”

Aldarion muttered something too low for any of them to hear and the others grinned.

“So just what do your names mean?” Eldacáno asked after taking a sip of his wine.

“Well, Quisero has the same meaning as hlusser,” Valandur said, “and no, I will not explain why my parents named me that. Minalcar’s name would probably be rendered as Pallapanto if anyone was foolish enough to give any child such a name and Tyulinhilmo would most likely be rendered as Hallion.”

“Hmm… the things you never know about your own family and friends,” Eldacáno said.

“Now you know why we changed our names once we came here,” Minalcar responded. “I chose my name in honor of the light of the Trees, which, when I first beheld it, was a glory I had never anticipated experiencing.”

“As you can probably guess from the names we have now, many of us chose new names in honor of either the Trees or the Valar,” Calandil said, nodding to Valandur and Aldarion. 

Both Eldacáno and Nambarauto had considering looks on their faces.

“Well, as interesting as this discussion on ancient naming practices is, I am still waiting to hear your answer to my question… Quisero,” Minalcar said, giving Valandur a pointed look.

“And I’m still waiting to hear yours of mine… Minalcar,” Valandur retorted mildly, refusing to be baited. From the expressions of approval Minalcar’s son and grandson gave him, he thought he had scored a point in his favor. “But to answer your question, I hesitated to do so because I was not entirely sure. Indeed, I had to ask the barkeep who you were, for while you seemed familiar I could not put a name to you.”

“But when you found out, why didn’t you come over and greet us?” Nambarauto asked.

“I fear I was not in a position to do so,” Valandur replied. “Those two friends of mine whom you saw with me… they were sent to bring me back to the palace. I had left a feast given in honor of the Vanyarin delegation without telling anyone where I was going. Aldamir and Sorondur were sent to find me. They were not happy to be missing the dancing.”

“Hmph,” Minalcar said, clearly not believing Valandur’s explanation. “Still, it wouldn’t have hurt to at least greet us in passing.”

“And if you knew who I was, why didn’t you come and greet me instead?” Valandur asked, raising an eyebrow.

Now Minalcar looked somewhat sheepish. “To tell the truth, I was no more sure of you than you were of me. It has been a long time since those days when we traveled together with me keeping an eye on you for your parents’ sake. As I recall, you were always hieing off to explore the surrounding lands whenever we stopped for a time.”

“I did not need looking after,” Valandur said with a scowl. “I was not that young and I never went exploring alone. Calandil often went with me, as did others. Why Atto insisted you follow us I will never understand.”

“He was concerned, and rightly so,” Minalcar said. “None of you were not all that old, barely out of elflinghood, and the journey was full of dangers most of us had never encountered before. Your atar could not follow you as he would have liked, for he had your ammë and your sisters to worry about, so he asked me to keep an eye on you lot. It’s a good thing, too, or have you two conveniently forgotten that little incident with the bear or when you got lost in the marshes?” He gave Valandur and Calandil an arch look.

Valandur found himself reddening at the memory Minalcar’s words had evoked and Calandil also looked embarrassed.

“Bear? Marshes?” Eldacáno asked. “Do tell.”

“You’ve never really spoken about those times, Anatto,” Nambarauto added. “We’re all ears.”

“Never you mind, younglings,” Minalcar admonished son and grandson. “This is neither the time nor the place for such tales. They were dark times in many more ways than one and I, frankly, have no wish to relive them even in tales told under the Light of the Trees. Our lives are here and here we will stay.”

“Násië!” Valandur said with all sincerity and both Calandil and Aldarion nodded in agreement.

“Well, regardless, I am glad to see you,” Minalcar said, giving Valandur a smile. “Your parents and sisters are well? And you, what have you been up to?”

“Yes, everyone in the family is well and they will be pleasantly surprised to hear about you and your family. I did not even know you had finally married.”

“Ah, well… it was after you had left the city and there were enough hard feelings about that from many quarters that I felt it prudent not to send an invitation. Indeed, we had no means of doing so, if you recall. It wasn’t until the roads were built that any type of courier system was developed between us. And after a while, it just didn’t seem important to let your family know.”

“And I am sorry about that,” Valandur said. “Cal and Dari will tell you that they’ve tried for yéni to get me to come visit them here, but I was reluctant to do so.”

“You never told us why, though,” Aldarion said softly.

“I was afraid of what I might find,” Valandur replied just as softly, not looking at anyone, so he did not notice the raised eyebrows.

“And what did you fear to find?” Calandil asked.

Valandur was saved from answering by the approach of the server asking if there was aught else that they needed. Minalcar ordered another bottle of wine and Nambarauto decided he wished to have something to eat, so for a few minutes they all took the time to look over the menu and give their orders. Finally, the server left, returning a few minutes later with the wine, assuring them that their meals would be out presently. Only after they were left alone again did their conversation resume with Calandil again asking Valandur what he had feared to find on returning to Tirion.

“You have to understand,” Valandur finally said, after remaining silent for a few minutes more, his eyes dark with memory, “despite what any of you might think, the decision to remove ourselves from Tirion did not come easily and there was a great deal of rather heated debate that occurred behind closed doors. My own parents agonized over the decision, and while I and my sisters were certainly old enough to decide for ourselves, we chose to abide by whatever decision our parents made.

“In the end, though, we left along with the vast majority of the Vanyar. I think a small number remained behind because they were married to Noldor and they did not wish to be separated from their loved ones, and I know that some Noldor joined us for the same reason. At any rate, leaving was hard, harder than you can imagine, yet, at the same time, looking back, I think it was the right thing for us to do.”

“Yet, that does not explain your reluctance, nay, your fear of returning even for a brief visit,” Calandil protested.

“No, it doesn’t,” Valandur agreed, “but think about it. Minalcar said that there were enough hard feelings among the Noldor about us leaving that he felt it prudent not to invite me or my family to his wedding. We Vanyar, contrary to popular opinion, are not as flighty as you would like to believe, nor are we clueless as to what is going on around us. However enamored of the Valar we may be, we are quite aware of the resentment that many Noldor still have for us, believing we somehow betrayed and abandoned them. I simply did not wish to subject myself to that.”

“We always visited you, though,” Aldarion put in. “We never resented your decision, though I will admit I did not understand it and was hurt by it, but I refused to let it destroy our friendship.”

“And for that I am very grateful,” Valandur said sincerely. “But, you never visited me in Vanyamar. Neither you nor Cal or any of our friends have ever been to my city. We always met on the slopes of Taniquetil or in Valmar when the Valar would declare a time of feasting for all. I never faulted you for your reluctance to enter the city, for it was the same reluctance that prevented me from coming here. Only because Ingwë asked me to join the trade delegation am I here at all or we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

“And why are you a part of the delegation?” Minalcar asked. “I will tell you, I think you are wasting your time with it.”

Valandur gave him a brief smile. “Yes, I know. I overheard you at the inn. In fact, it was your conversation and especially Nambarauto’s observations that caught my attention. It is why I sought you out, beyond wishing to renew our friendship.”

Three sets of eyebrows were raised at that statement. “You sought me out?” Nambarauto asked in disbelief.

Valandur nodded. “But to answer your question, Minalcar, I recently achieved my mastership and now teach at the Academy. I am a lambengolmo, in fact, and Ingwë felt that someone with my expertise would be useful, not so much during the negotiations, but afterwards.”

“How?” Eldacáno asked, clearly puzzled.

“Ingwë is aware that the yéni of separation between our two clans may have altered us linguistically as well as socially, so that a time may come when there is enough change between us as to make us incomprehensible to one another. Ingwë wishes to know to what extent that is already happening so we might avoid misunderstandings in the future.”

“It all seems rather… vague,” Minalcar said with a frown.

“Indeed it is, and I could cheerfully strangle the Ingaran right about now for even thinking to send anyone for that purpose,” Valandur retorted with a grimace that wasn’t entirely faked.

Minalcar leaned back in his chair and grinned wickedly. “So, you’re a loremaster. You, who could barely read or write, who was about as articulate as a three-year-old. How ever did you manage to convince them to let you into the Academy at all?”

Suddenly Valandur was angry. The yéni he had spent struggling to meet the qualifications to be admitted to the Academy, the malicious (to him) laughter of his Vanyarin friends when he failed time and again, the years of apprenticing himself to a woodworker just to scrape up the entrance fees, all the doubts and hurts that he had suffered in pursuit of a dream that many, even some in his own family, thought ridiculous, and then the slowness of his advance to loremaster status once he was finally admitted, sometimes despairing that he would never accomplish his goal — all that came rushing to the fore of his mind and now here was one whom he had long admired and considered a friend sneering at him and ridiculing him before the others.

It was too much and before they knew what was happening, he stood abruptly, knocking his chair to the floor in his haste to rise, and stalked out of the tavern without a word. He was halfway down the street when someone caught up with him. Minalcar grabbed him from behind and Valandur snarled an oath as he pushed the ellon from him.

“Valandur, forgive…”

“I don’t want your apology, Aikaldamor!” Valandur fairly shouted, ignoring the surprised and concerned looks of passersby. “You don’t know how much I struggled to get where I am today. You have no idea how hard it was to watch everyone else around me master the art of reading and writing and pursuing their dreams with nary a trouble, while I struggled and struggled and…”

By now he was nearly in tears and Minalcar took him into his embrace and held him close, saying nothing as Valandur continued weeping. Finally, though, the tears abated and he felt drained of all emotion, wishing he could just pack up and leave. He longed to return to the Academy and take up his teaching and research duties once again and forget all about the damn trade delegation and the Noldor.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he pulled himself away from Minalcar.

“No, it is I who am sorry,” the Noldo said remorsefully. “I should never have teased you as I did. That was both stupid and mean-spirited. I do not know what possessed me to say such things to you. I long admired your determination to conquer your… shall we say, inability to communicate effectively?”

“Now you sound like a loremaster at his worst,” Valandur couldn’t help saying.

Minalcar grinned. “Come back with me. Calandil and Aldarion were ready to strangle me for insulting you as I did and my son and grandson were right behind them. You are fortunate to have such staunch friends come to your defense.”

“They’re more than friends,” Valandur said. “Cal and Dari are my otornor as I am theirs.”

“And for that I am glad. But come, the meal you ordered was being brought out even as you left. You do not want to let it go to waste and I insist on paying for it. Consider it my feeble attempt to make up for hurting you as I did.”

Valandur felt reluctant to return to the tavern, but Minalcar would not take ‘no’ for an answer and before he knew it he was back among the others. Calandil and Aldarion gave him concerned looks and Aldarion even went so far as to give him a hug. Eldacáno and Nambarauto appeared embarrassed and the atmosphere between them all was strained, no one wishing to break the silence that had fallen as they ate.

Valandur had little appetite, though, and he ate only a small portion of the stew before putting down his spoon, refusing to look at anyone. Calandil jabbed him with his elbow.

“If you don’t finish your stew, you don’t get dessert,” he said without even looking his way.

 “Maybe I don’t want any,” Valandur retorted.

“Oh good,” Aldarion responded as he lifted his goblet to take a sip. “That means more for us.”

“I’ve never known you to pass up sweets, Valandur,” Minalcar said. “Are you sure you are feeling well?”

Nambarauto snorted in humor and Eldacáno grinned. Valandur glared at them both and then saw Minalcar wink at him and suddenly, the anger and resentment he’d been feeling dissipated and he realized that he was among friends who wished only his happiness. Calandil finally looked up and gave him a smile that was warm and welcoming and full of brotherly love and understanding and he knew that, no matter what, he had friends who would always be there for him.

Without a word, he picked up his spoon again and began eating. The atmosphere became less tense and awkward, and they continued eating in companionable silence. After a few minutes though, Nambarauto turned to Valandur, giving him an enquiring look. “What was it like for you when you first came to Valinor?” he asked. “Anatto just says it was wonderful, but he never really explains why.”

Valandur realized that in his own way the young ellon was attempting to apologize for earlier. He sat back and took a sip of his wine before answering. “I remember sitting on the side of the pass that we had just climbed and weeping, but whether from sorrow or joy, I did not know….”

By the time they finished their meal, Calandil and Aldarion had shared their own memories and Minalcar offered an observation or two on his own feelings upon reaching Valinor. No one mentioned the trade negotiations or Valandur’s role in it, not even Valandur, and when they left the tavern, Minalcar invited him to join him and his family for their usual Valanya celebration.

“Nothing grand,” Minalcar assured him. “We usually ride down the Calacirya and have a picnic on the shore.”

“It sounds wonderful. Thank you. Where should I meet you?”

“We’ll be at the palace for the hymn-singing. We’ll stand by the central fountain and you can join us afterwards,” came the reply.

“Until then,” Valandur said.

Calandil and Aldarion stated that they had to get back to their own work, each promising to get together with him soon, so Valandur was left to his own devices. Not wishing to return just yet to the palace, he decided to wander through the city, perhaps do a little bit of shopping. The one street he refused to go down, however, was the street where he and his family had once lived.

****

Aramalina: Royal-yellow.

Luksondil: Mud-friend/lover. In modern Quenya graphology this would be written as Luxondil.

Pallapanto: from palla ‘wide’ + pantë ‘back (of something)’ with masculine ending.

Hallion: from halla ‘tall’ + -ion ‘patronymic suffix’.

Minalcar: First-glory, an attested name.

Eldacáno: Elf-bold, an attested name, though in the form Eldacan.

Nambarauto: Hammerer of copper, an attested name; Damrod is the Sindarin form.

Násië: Amen, so be it.