Lusseriel was sitting in the cave, next to the fire, her backpack near her, Mrs Hops running around under her watch. Well if someone ended up killing and eating the rabbit, could she really blame them...?
She picked up her journal from her bag, and used the bag as a makeshift table to place the journal to write.
“For the record, Wildermore is cold, and it’s a mess.
Following our arrival, we went scouting the land. Well, the snow and ice is really covering everything, there’s wild animals, wargs and orcs about everywhere. We discovered several big orc camps while we were here.
We also found a camp where we took some rest. Oh not long, but at least it was safe. Somehow while we were there, the question of Rolegard going barefoot arose, and Brunnadan managed to convince him by promising to go barefoot too in the rest of Rohan.
It’s a bit weird, but it worked at least and now Rolegard has boots and isn’t in danger of frostbites.
But when we got back to Forlaw and met the Reeve. He sent us to do some tasks to hunt and kill uruk-hai and orcs in various places and to go reassure the villagers of Forlaw. Not sure that the farmers of Wildermore can be reassured of anything but…
Purely a politician move. The citizens were right to fear and telling them that everything would be alright was a massive lie, but also not my choice.
We ended up following Gléowine to the village of Dunfast, the village his family is from. The place was quiet and empty. Also frozen, but at this point, no one was surprised about THAT.
And Nona found us there. Everyone was surprised about that.
I’m glad to know she’s fine. She found refugees and is helping them. Apparently they have injured. They’re hidden in a cave. Which… Well, is better than nothing I guess?
We went to Byre Tor. The place was overrun by orcs.
And Gléowine decided of course that it was the perfect time and place to sing for Byre Tor. I was very much not impressed by his survival instinct or lack of thereof. I swear if he does something like that ever again, I’m going to leave him to his fate.
And Brunnadan who went all: “He mourns, Lusseriel”
Yes, well, he could have waited until we managed to secure the area before breaking in the songs of mourning, it’d have saved us trouble.
I lost places I loved. I lost people I loved. I never found it ok and reasonable to endanger the people I was traveling with just because I was mourning. Basic survival skills you know…
But after that, as we left the invaded city, miraculously all alive and well, we found Nona’s cave and the few survivors of Byre Tor. Including one who had rather bad injuries.
So in service of those people, we went and picked back some things they had left behind in Byre Tor. How will that all help us fight Sauron, I have no idea. How could they place more value in their heirlooms and such rather than making plans for the future to get out of this cave, I don’t know either. But priorities I guess.
In any case, we found things and killed orcs and freed horses in the process just because.
As we went back to the cave, we settled for a bit around the fire, and discussed the situation and how to help with the weather problem.
After a while, it seems the discussion became too heavy and some of us drifted off to do some other things. Possibly rest, actually.
Rolegard delighted those of us still there with a story. I’ll record it there since I remember it quite well, and it deserves it.
Besides, it’s fun.
So here’s the story, as told by Rolegard : The story of Peony’s pie dish.
“There once was a young Hobbit lass called Peony. Her father was a renowned baker and his pies were eaten all over South-Farthing. One day, Peony wanted to try and make one of her father's pies herself. So she gathered all her ingredients and utensils and started baking. All was going well and Peony put what looked like a delicious pie into the oven. It was then that all the work of baking caught up to her and she decided to have a nap.
She awoke, some time later, with smoke pouring from the oven. She tried to recover the pie from the oven... but upon removing the pie, it was plain to see that it had been burnt to ashes and her father's pie dish had cracked under the immense heat. Peony didn't know what to do. She couldn't just buy another pie dish. This pie dish had been given to her father by the Gaffer of the family and then her Gaffer before that.
"I'll have to make one" she said.
She rushed out the hole and headed straight for the market. It was late morning at this point and most of the market had been packed up. In the distance, she saw someone who might be able to help her. A Dwarf who came down to The Shire from the Blue Mountains once a month... on his way to Bree-Land to sell various metal ores.
"EXCUSE ME"! She shouted at the top of her lungs as she ran after him.
The Dwarf turned around with a look of both confusion and annoyance, "Do you... have any... clay... to sell"? she asked, trying to catch her breath.
The Dwarf raised an eyebrow and gave the young Hobbit Lass a questioning look before... bursting out in a deep laugh. "Ha ho. Is that all you need? I have a little supply of clay, though I don't usually sell it. I use it to make molds, you see, for jewelry and the like.”
Peony nearly begged the dwarf to sell her a small amount of his clay and after some haggling, he relented. "Very well then. You may have some"
The dwarf reached into his wagon and produced a Dwarf sized handful of dry clay (more than enough). Peony paid him and ran to the town well to get water to wet the clay.
Once the clay was wet, Peony went about shaping it into the rough shape of a pie dish. "Oh bugger"! She thought. She couldn't remember the exact design of her father's pie dish that she had left on the kitchen counter back home. So she scurried back to the hole and burst into the kitchen.
There stood her father, looking over the charred and cracked pie dish sitting on the kitchen counter.
"PEONY"! Her father said in a voice that seemed even deeper than the Dwarf's, Peony fell to her knees and began to cry. "I'm so sorry Pa' I just wanted to make pies as good as yours.”
Peony's Father took a step forward and looked over her. He then embraced her in a strong hug and began chuckling. Seeing the look of confusion on her face, Peony's father explained that back when he was her age and his mother was one of the best pie makers in The Shire…He had done nearly the exact same. Tried to cook a pie but left it in the oven too long so the dish cracked.
He had tried to make a new dish simply out of mud. A ruse that his mother saw through immediately and gave him quite the beating for.
The dish that Peony had cracked wasn't a family heirloom at all but simply a replacement pie dish that his mother bought years ago. Peony's father took the wet clay dish out of his daughter's hands and placed it in the oven to set.
And to this day, that pie dish is the family heirloom of Peony's family. Though none of them know whether it is the original or not.”
A rather delightful and lighthearted little story. And I do wonder if that stayed a family tradition for the kids of that family to break a dish while trying to imitate their parents.
Alas, good humor couldn’t last and soon enough we went back out, and back to Byre Tor. Nona decided to try to understand why the creature Nurzum, the apparent source of the weather, went to Byre Tor in the first place.
And perhaps it’d help us to find out how to beat that creature.
We didn’t find there how to beat it specifically, but we found the creature itself. It looked like a stone giant who had a stone of some kind attached to his back. And I think that this stone is the source of our problem and of the weather.
We came to the conclusion that the creature was probably some kind of stone giant enhanced by Saruman’s magic.
Corudan planned to see if an ent would help fight the creature. It’s… Not the worst idea possibly. But that implied going back to the forest, and Brunnadan wouldn’t come.
Instead he decided to stay in the cave.
So we went without him.
The forest is full of snow and orcish pests.
But we found an ent. Asleep, of course, not helped at all by the snow and cold. Even Ilthirian speaking to him didn’t rouse him, sadly.
Corudan suggested that we go and kill orcs in the forest, so the sound of fighting would rouse the ent. I’ll admit I was rather doubtful of that plan, but it’s the only one we had.
So we went first. And came back once we killed a few orcs near enough the ent’s clearing. To no result.
So Corudan sent us back there to kill more, to the same result.
But Corudan had an idea, to send us to fight some Uruk instead to bring back some of their equipment, so that perhaps that’ll rouse the ent. So we went and came back. I was honestly ready to give it up.
But no, it actually worked.
The ent’s name is Leaflock.
We explained everything, but Leaflock has the opinion of an immortal being on the situation: Orcs are very much mortals, so are men, and it wasn’t really his problem.
But… He asked us to tell him about Nurzum. So we did. We described the creature as well as we could, and Leaflock said something that surprised me: “You said he was a giant! That is not just a giant. It may have been a giant once. Now it is more than that. You describe an unnatural combination. It was a giant. It was also a Huorn. Twisted! Corrupted!”
I didn’t see that one coming, and neither did everyone else as far as I could tell.
But at least Leaflock will act. If it’ll be of any use, I can’t tell, but…
We decided to go back to the cave, and share the news with Brunnadan.
Of course, when we arrived, Brunnadan was out on some errant probably.
Andrahir tried to reassure Ardirien about Brunnadan’s absence, but she didn’t quite believe it apparently.
I tried to. Ilthirian didn’t quite appreciate my words apparently. Oh well.
I tried to find something to cheer up Ardirien a bit. I’m pretty sure that Brunnadan is going to come back to us soon and in his usual state, so I’m not too worried, but Ardirien saw that Brunnadan disappeared on us while being left behind in a cave, and that Arcangar was killed in a cave when we were kidnaped by Saruman’s lackeys…
So yes, something to cheer her up and pass the time, to give Brunnadan time to come back.
So I said the first thing I could think of : “Did I ever tell you I’m married?”
That had somewhat the merit of surprising both Ardirien and Ilthirian.
So I told them the story. I’ll record it here too. I mean… I don’t think that I dared write anything about my husband since he sailed, so, let this journal entry be a reminder of good time for me too…
I met my husband during the first age. I was young at that time. And what an interesting first meeting it was.
His name is Nolanàro. But contrary to what his name implies, Nolanàro meaning wise fire, he wasn’t quite so wise at the time.
We were about a hundred years old. It was summer, which, in the Gap didn’t mean much. The weather in Wildermore was pretty much not surprising anywhere in the Gap or Himring.
I mean, it was livable, but so cold all the time… But there were areas we could go gather herbs and plants and enjoy a bit of a warmer weather. I’m not sure if it was because the areas were protected from the wind or not but…
Of course, no one could travel alone at that time, so we had soldiers with us. Nolanàro was working as a soldier, as I was working as a healer.
We met on such an outing. He said it was love at first sight, I still say that he was an idiot. But here’s what happened:
I was picking up herbs near a riverbank, and here came a young soldier in full armor. He stayed behind a tree, like I couldn’t see him, or hear him for that matter. When I walked next to his tree, he tried to surprise me.
Sadly for him, well… I don’t take too well to surprises, so he might have ended up in the water instead, before I stopped to think of what I was doing to whom.
He said he tried to surprise me to convince me he could teach me things for my own safety. His officer wasn’t quite amused at the whole display, officially. Though I heard he had quite the laugh relaying the story in the fortress.
But… Ah, Nola was cute. And he looked so disappointed to end up in the water, that I helped him out and… Well, we got talking, and we became friends.
When we lost the Gap and moved to HImring… Well, we decided to get married there. Our parents apparently had a bet going on as to which of us would ask the other out.
I did of course. My parents won their bet. I wasn’t quite amused at it, and my poor husband couldn’t look at them without blushing for at least a decade.
It was during the mid-winter celebrations. I was getting rather impatient, and quite frankly I didn’t see the point of waiting considering the danger we were living in. I wanted him to ask me, but he was so shy at times.
During the feast, I was with another healer. A friend. We were enjoying the celebrations together, the fires, the songs and dances. Prince Maglor did us the honor of playing music for the celebrations too, so we were all in bright mood.
And well, I had some wine, and I saw another girl trying to invite Nola to dance. He was completely blind to it. Wise, indeed…
So I went to him and I said to him : “Nolanàro, we’ve known each other for a long time now. I love you. If you love me enough for that, then marry me.”
He kissed me and I took that as a yes. We spent the rest of the night dancing around the fires. We got married soon after, and then he went on a long patrol, and I was a healer so always on call, so we had no honeymoon, but we were together for long, long years.
Ilthirian hesitated to ask how that story ended. Where was Nolanàro now. Well, she needn’t need to hesitate. He’s fine. He sailed a couple dozen years ago now. He said he couldn’t take anymore the darkness ever spreading. If I didn’t have an oath to keep me here, I’d have sailed with him too. But at least, I know he’s fine.
Ardirien picked up on the one line in the whole story I’d rather people didn’t ask more about : “an oath?” she asked.
All I’m willing to say is that it was a youthful mistake, but nevertheless a binding one, from a time when I learnt absolutely no lesson from our own sad situation. An oath to keep fighting Gorthaur, Sauron now, until he disappears for good.
Ilthirian asked if I’d sail when that day comes.
First the chances of me surviving past this day is rather on the slim side.
Second, not necessarily. It’ll depend. Perhaps I’ll go. Perhaps I’ll have friends at my side that I don’t want to abandon. Perhaps I’ll hear about some treasure of nature or culture and will want to explore a bit more of Middle Earth.
Ilthirian asked me with suspicious casualness if I wasn’t afraid that by the time I decide to leave there’ll be no more way to sail.
Hm… The answer to that is that I'm really not.
First, if really there’s no way to cross altogether… Well there’ll always be at least one. So long our fears answer to Mandos’ call, we’ll all end up re-embodied in Aman. So if things come to worst…
But I firmly believe that the way won’t close on us, that even if we’re the very last, we can take a ship, even one built by men, and sail to the Undying Lands.
But apparently lady Galadriel-The-Most-Aggravating-Elf-Ever-Born warned Ilthirian against staying too long. Or that’s how Ilthirian interpreted it.
However there’s many things that Galadriel might have meant. One being that she’s afraid that Ilthirian might chose to fade into these flawed mortal lands to become one of the unhoused spirits for love of a mortal long gone.
I noticed that Ardirien looked somewhat curious about something, what it was, I can’t say, but she said nothing and Ilthirian asked if that’d be “so bad to stay with your beloved”.
No, of course not, and I’ll never say that. My own relationship with Nolanàro ensures that I can’t. I chose love once. In the bloodiest part of our history, it cost me dearly to chose my lover too. It’s why I made that stupid oath to start with.
But ah, Ilthirian’s path, if she chooses what I think she will, will be short and the ending full of sorrow. It's not something she can win against. What she needs to decide for herself, is if the sorrow of the ending is worth it. I can't decide for her. I have my opinion of course, but it's only mine and has no value to her.
Being in love is a beautiful thing. Being loved in return is a happiness I can't describe. I won't protest that. But no endings are equals, and only she can know if it's worth it in the end.
I don’t specifically approve. Elves and men falling in love never end well, no matter how noble or gentle or brave or whatever else the man can be. They always have to face death in the end and in one dubious and temporary exception apart, death is a permanent thing for them.
However, I don’t specifically feel the need to advertise my opinion on the private life of my friends. And if they end up together, then so be it. I’ll just hope that it won’t end up in a bigger tragedy that it needs to be by nature alone.
It’ll be my problem and no one else’s, less of all Ilthirian’s. And so help me, if Galadriel, that scheming, meddling, selfish girl of a princess, tries to meddle further, I’ll put her hair on fire! Or something.”
Lusseriel closed her diary, put it back in her backpack and went to try and find the rabbit who was suddenly suspiciously absent.
