Ah, my dear Diary. How all is changed.
On Saturday last, I dressed in the gold hauberk of the Order of the Harp and knelt before Lord Anglachelm to recite the Oath of Bar-en-Vanimar.
My one darling Themodir had suggested that we serve the same House back at the end of January. I thought this over and considered it wise, for that his ill-thought sojourn in Angmar, and time in the Enemy's hands, were set off by a suggestion that he had not been faithful to his duties because he felt more loyal to me. Very well -- let us both serve this great old House, whose origins lie in the sack of Gondolin and the desire to create a "dear home" in this strange modern age. Then he will know where I am, and I where he is, and even when we must be apart, we shall each be content in that knowledge. Hir Anglachelm agreed with my reasoning on that point.
How cold, the metal of the hauberk when I first let it slither over my shoulders! Yet it warmed quickly, and the swan-cloak brought back what few tender memories remain of my abbreviated childhood. My distant cousin, who steered the raft when I could not, and slept while I steered, just as he steered while I slept... I do not know if he even survived. I know that after I took the Oath in the tongue of the Elders (everyone who understood it, including hir Themodir himself, seemed unbothered by my Telerin accent in that tongue), and hiril Danel spoke three simple words -- Welcome home, sister -- at last I fear I gave vent to the mingled pain and joy in my heart, and wept before my Cauns and my Tûr. No one seemed to mind, however.
So many were there! I had originally asked hiril Uilossiel to witness my oath-taking, and indeed she looked fine in the white and gold that matched my own colours. I had not known, however, that hir Themodir himself would be granted a respite from his duties to attend and be my witness himself. I was utterly grateful, though he had to depart soon after. Praise be to the Valar that he was granted even that short time! I believe I walked forth with a steadier step, and answered the Tûr's questions more calmly, for my darling's presence.
I did not know, however, how much discomfort this would cause my Oath-sister, hiril Norliriel, who took her own oath in the crimson of the Pillar on the same day. Her own love was, let us say, never fulfilled. And she swears to be at my wedding... which was the first topic of conversation after the ceremony ended. Oh, the endless questions! When will it be? What shall I wear? Will I have bridal attendants? What shall they wear? And on, and on. Everyone means well, but I could see, for all that Norliriel truly intends to attend that ceremony also -- and I would have her there, for we have a special bond now, I deem -- she is made unhappy by the constant reminders of what could have been hers.
That, then, is my essential problem in this marriage: not whether to undertake it, for I fully desire this, and hir Themodir is now willing to marry something other than his war-hammer during war-time! Nor is it when. Fate will decide. My darling would have it sooner than later, but the others insist there is planning to be done. Very well, let them plan. It is whether a guest I would receive with highest honours would actually be hurt by seeing me exchange my silver betrothal ring for a gold ring of marriage. This is a terrible dilemma. Perhaps hiril Mirineth can advise me.
