Tales of Nolduryon

[Valandil]

A collection of documents which I will endeavor to translate (apparently set in Arnor, middle of the first millenium of the Third Age):

Tales of Nolduryon:

I, Nolduryon, third son of King Arantar of days long past, brother to our King Tarcil of days yet gone by, and uncle to King Tarondor of these days now come, have set my hand to a new task in this year of 545 from the downfall of our Enemy. For my nephew the king has bid me relinquish my duties as Chief Scribe and Loremaster of the land in the twilight of my own days. Yet he has not desired that I simply warm myself beside the fire, nor indeed lay me down to join my ancestors beyond the circles of this life’s journey, but has rather urged me to take pen in hand and write on parchment the stories known to me of our land, and of our family, which I have previously recounted only by mouth to himself, his queen, his children and others here at the Court of Annuminas.

Therefore I have resolved to spend what strength and time as remains to me in setting down these records. Some of these stories I know to be true with certainty, for I have ascertained the facts myself. In other cases, having no first-hand knowledge, I still deem them quite reliable, from the accounts gathered of diverse sources. Yet others I find quite doubtful to believe, but I include them as well, for they will perhaps have something to tell of us in any regard. And they may yet be true.

I will first write accounts of royal matrimony, and how our kings have chosen their queens. The tale of Valandil’s wedding is well-known, so I will instead first record the marvelous story of my grandfather, King Eldacar. Those of my father, brother and nephew are much alike, so of those three, I choose to record that of my brother, King Tarcil – perhaps hesitant to recount too broadly the nuptials of either my own father or the king who now sits upon our throne – besides that, I know my brother’s account best of all. And I will record as well an account of our future king, Tarondor’s Heir Valandur, for his recent marriage has indeed caused a stir in our court and has perhaps set in motion this new assignment of mine.

Eldacar

My grandfather, King Eldacar, was renowned for his great strength and his mighty feats. If indeed he had lived in a time of much warfare, his name should now be known throughout Middle Earth, but in this we of Arnor can rejoice. For as there was no cause for his fame to spread far and wide, so we have had peace in our days.

I have dim memories of my grandfather – and even in those he appears as a great and powerful man. I envy that my brothers Tarcil and Eldamir hunted with him in their youth, for I was only of age to sit upon his knee when his days of hunting were ended – yet I remember one time before he passed how he looked into my eyes, as though he saw into my young heart and knew me at last – or else he had long done so and I was only old enough to remember this once. And I also remember the great mourning of our people when he had lain himself down at the last, and the humble grace by which my grandmother’s words of kindness and faith encouraged all of us around her after he was gone.


Eldacar lived with great activity from his youth. He delighted in the life outdoors, away from court - riding, hunting and sleeping under the stars. He made friends of the foresters and came to know farmers and thanes of our people far and wide in all the lands of Arnor.

When Eldacar reached his 75th year his mother, Queen Galeneth, deemed that the time had come for him to seek a marriage. So she gathered together a new court of the finest young ladies of the land, two score in all. But Eldacar gathered young sons of the land’s nobles to himself as well, and kept both them and himself apart from his mother’s court. The women of Galeneth’s court became well practiced in speech, song, instrument, lore and fine manners. Eldacar and his companions wandered far and wide, living off the land, and they were away from the court more and more. Each time they returned, Galeneth sent her court of young ladies to wait upon their needs, but ever they were soon off once more, paying little notice to those maidens. As the years passed, this brought great consternation to the queen. It also displeased the nobles of the kingdom who had sent their daughters to court in hopes of having a grandson sit on Arnor’s throne one day. So upon a time, when Eldacar’s band was due to arrive, Queen Galeneth voiced her displeasure to King Valandil. The King took her words to heart, for he also desired to see his elder son marry. Thus when Eldacar came unto the palace once more, the King summoned him into his private chamber and spoke in this way with him:

[Valandil]

“Greetings my son. It is good to see thee once more. What of thy travels about our kingdom?”

Eldacar stooped down on one knee and said, “Nay my father. The kingdom is all thine own, and not shared with me, and my pleasure to see thee can be no greater. All is well in thy kingdom, as it has ever been in thy just reign. Is there aught I can do in thy service, my liege?”

“Arise my son. I tell ye now that if all is well in my kingdom, it is not so in my palace.”

Eldacar arose slowly with a look of puzzlement upon his face. “What is it, father? Does someone threaten thee with harm?”

Valandil smiled, “Nay – no such threats. Yet still there is not… peace.”
“How may I help thee to have peace, my father?”

Valandil sighed, “There is perhaps… a way.” He turned slowly about and walked toward a window, which overlooked the Summer Garden below. There, the court of Galeneth was enjoying the afternoon sunlight and warmth. “I spoke to thee of sharing. My kingdom is to be thine own one day, so it is right that we speak of sharing it. Thy hands assist me in its workings now, just as one day the fruit of my own labors will fill thy harvest, for good or for ill. Yet there is aught else I would share with thee.”

Valandil then turned back once more, face-to-face with Eldacar who had followed him to the window, and he reached out his arms, placing his hands on his son’s great shoulders. “My son, in yon garden are the fairest ladies of our land. Thine own mother has summoned them here that ye might choose from among them. Forty of them… each a choice jewel, more precious than gold. For twenty years now have they waited for thee. My son… will ye not choose thyself one?”

Eldacar first looked long into his father’s eyes, then turned his head aside, his shoulders still in the grasp of his father’s strong hands. “How can a man choose among so many?”

Valandil squeezed his shoulders a bit more firmly. “Shall I then fetch thee four from among them, that ye may choose one of four? Or three?”
“But father – I do not desire any such as these.”

“They are the finest ladies in our land. Each is of great beauty and grace, and skilled in the arts of our people. Each is of pure Numenorean stock – all descendants from the Faithful who sailed with Elendil, whose houses remain loyal to our throne. What more could ye wish in a wife? They are of our best families, who entrusted them to our court that they may attain the favor of the best young men of our kingdom –thee and all those others thou keepest away from them all. Dost thou not see how thy companions look wistfully upon them?”

“Then release them from their oaths, and I shall release my companions as well - such as would go. For my heart does not turn to these ladies of my mother’s court in all their finery.”

“Who then? Is there another in our land who has caught thine eye? Yes… this is why thou strayest so long from thy home!” And Valandil’s eyes brightened and a smile spread upon his face.

“No my father – none other in all thy land, though I have sought across its bounds for such a one as I could find pleasing.”

“Well then… how will you get an Heir in thy turn?” as Valandil began to show his exasperation.

Eldacar’s manner had begun to change. At first, he had listened meekly to his father, but now his anger and pride began to well up within him. “What is that? Will there ever be a shortage of men who desire to sit upon a throne? Your eldest daughter has two young sons, each nearly full grown. Could not the elder of them follow me while the younger takes his father’s place, if I never marry? Or… if you would, give the kingdom unto my sister and let her rule as Queen, like our people did afore in the Land of Gift. Then none could dispute her son’s succession after her!”

At that, Eldacar spun about and departed from his father, without waiting to be dismissed. His father called after him, “Eldacar…” but he did not stop. King Valandil then stood silent in his chamber for long hours, pondering what might come.

Eldacar did not come forth from his own chamber that evening, but the next morning rose early and roused his companions while the palace still slept. “Come, let’s take a swim!” he told them. So they walked down the pathway to the southern shore of Lake Evendim and stirred the crew of a royal barge. At such times as this, Eldacar and his men would swim out into the lake, a league or two, and then might be taken aboard the boat to ride back or else would swim back. In truth, the king commanded boats such as this to be at his son’s disposal, lest a storm might suddenly arise, or any of the young men become fatigued and distressed and then be lost far out upon the lake. This day like any other, the men stripped down to a single linen garment while the boatmen readied themselves and gathered provision for lunch – both for themselves and for those young men they would take aboard, for the swimmers had not yet broken fast.

It was warm already and looked to be a beautiful clear day – but hot, for it was late summer, in the month of Urui (August) before the harvest, when the days had begun to shorten, yet still were long and hot.

Eldacar was first into the water and began at once to stroke away hard, still fueled by the words that had passed between himself and his father. Those words now became a great rage burning within him as he dwelt upon them more and more, repeating everything to himself with each swing of his mighty arms. At first his companions began to laugh and hoot at how he attacked the water on this day, but their laughter soon turned to apprehension as he drew further and further ahead of them. They increased their own efforts and meant to swim after him with all their strength, yet still he pulled away. The barge could not get around them, and might not have caught him anyway. And when, after about three leagues, his companions all grew too tired to go on and had to let themselves be taken onto the barge, he was already far from sight – and long gone from view when the last man was taken in. The barge’s captain continued on in the same direction, fearful of losing the king’s son. But he could not find him and returned as the sun sank, his heart heavy at the news he must bring to his king.

[Valandil]

As Eldacar swam, his anger began at last to cool and his mind to grow clear. He saw that he was far beyond his companions – almost beyond sight of Annuminas’ tower even. His mind pondered what might come upon him if he grew weary all alone in the middle of such a great lake, but he kept swimming onward and did not turn back, and he knew not why. He simply delighted in his swimming and as yet he felt no weariness. For while the day was indeed growing hot, as the sun rose toward her zenith, the waters of Evendim were cool, even on the hottest days. So on he swam. His anger abated, he stroked now more steadily and enjoyed the feeling of pushing himself forward, the water rushing along the length of his body.

Some time after noon he espied something moving ahead of him. Were there indeed great beasts in this lake, such as the mariners would tell tales of? He stopped to look. No… and he was truly surprised. It was another swimmer – some 200 rangar ahead and swimming crossways from his own path, east to west while he swam north. He veered to the west a few points to intercept this other swimmer, but had to adjust his direction twice more, for the other one seemed as strong a swimmer as he.

Finally he drew near. When he was within 12 or 15 rangar the other swimmer stopped, so Eldacar stopped as well. The greeting he had intended to hail stuck in his throat, for he saw that this other swimmer was no man, but a young woman.

“You startled me!” she said. “I did not expect to meet another outside a boat so far out from Evendim’s shores. Who are you?”

Eldacar, still full of surprise, but not wishing to reveal himself, thought to try a test, “I am Turgaer – and no swimmer can match me on this lake! Who now are you?”

She laughed, and the look of expectancy on her face turned to one of mischief. “Perhaps I heard you wrong, for you must be Eardur. You may make obeisance to me then, for I am called Nentari – and if none has matched you, then against me you have not yet swum! Tell me though, whence have you come?”

“From a city on the south shore…”

“Why do you not just say ‘Annuminas’? Still – you are a good five leagues from home, nearer six. My way is much closer – two and a half to three leagues more to the northwest – if you like a short sprint!” At that, she turned and sped away, arms flailing in the air, then stroking through the water to push her away.

Eldacar had been curious, then mischievous and now stunned with surprise. She did not seem to be an Elf, which would have answered much – but she must be a Dunedain. She had understood his Sindarin well enough, and then turned it around into Quenya. And then to challenge him! He laughed aloud there in the water. But a grim smile came to his face and he looked after this challenger, who had already gained 50 rangar on him… “'Nentari’ indeed!” he thought, “We’ll see about that!” and then he set himself to the pursuit.

(Translator’s Note: as would have been clear to Nolduryon’s audience, Eldacar first claimed a Sindarin name, “Tur-gaer” – “Master of the Sea” – partly to test her knowledge of Sindarin, but also to hide his identity. The other swimmer played upon the similar sounds of “tur” and “dur” to rename him in Quenya, “Ear-dur” – “Sea Servant” or “Servant of the Sea” and then claimed for herself the title of “Nen-tari” – “Water Queen” or “Queen of Waters”. So she surprised him by her knowledge of Quenya, a lesser known Elven tongue, yet considered a ‘higher’ one – and therefore she ‘trumped’ him, or ‘one-upped’ him in language as well as in their name game, by turning his title from "Master of the Sea" to "Servant of the Sea" and declaring herself his mistress.)

Long they swam and hard and fast. At first, Eldacar maintained the distance between them, but finally began to draw nearer. When she espied him coming near, she increased her efforts and pulled further ahead. Eldacar set himself to swim even faster, for the shore was now in view, where at first only distant hills could be seen. He HAD to catch her. With a mighty effort he pulled himself closer to her… closer, closer… Finally, he drew beside her, and then several more strokes and he was a ranga ahead – and the shore was quite close. She did not give up, continuing to lash at the water, but Eldacar, thinking he had shown himself the winner, sought to end the race. He slacked off a bit to let her pass him, then grasped her ankle and they both stopped, breathing heavily, just 20 rangar from the wooded shore. She spun herself about and pleaded with him.

“Release me… please! You have shown yourself the stronger swimmer. It is said that the sons of Elendil are strong indeed, yet it is also said that they are gracious. You have shown the first to be true. Now prove the second and release me – and avert your eyes and turn your head, that I may retain my modesty and return unashamed to my father’s home.”

She even seemed to have guessed who he was… but Eldacar’s joy turned to sorrow, for the race was ended and this young woman would now leave him – and he might not see her again. He removed his hand from her ankle and turned his back toward her, able now to stand. Only then did he realize how tired he had become, and famished as well, for he had taken no food all this day. He stood gasping for breath as she made her way to the shore. Finally, without looking back, he called to her.

“Who is your father, and where is his home?”

“My father is Telumar. Do you hear the falling of water through the trees? The stream pouring into the lake, three or four furlongs south from here, is fed by those cascades. Above the cascades can you find a chain of lakes – smaller than Evendim. My father is acknowledged the Chief of these Northern Lakes.”

“When can I come for you?”

There was no answer at first, and Eldacar feared that she had gone, but did not yet dare to turn and see. Finally her voice rang out, “Come at our Harvest Festival, for then my father will not refuse you. I must go now…”

“Wait!” he called back. “Might I see you one last time… before you go?”

“A moment… while I cover myself. There… you may turn and look… now.”

Eldacar turned slowly. The shore here was more of a rocky bank, two or three rangar high, with dense woodlands above. There she stood – tall, her dark wet hair hung down to her waist, and she wore only a simple sleeveless yellow gown draped from just below her neck to the middle of her shins, tied at the middle with a belt of braided cloth, and sandals to match the belt were upon her feet. She stood half-concealed by the branches of a shrub, but the sight of her still took Eldacar’s heart. He drew himself up.

“For whom shall I ask your father?”

“I am… Teleriel.”

“I am… Eldacar.”

“Yes.” She looked at him just a moment longer. “Wait until the Harvest, for I fear it will be the last I may spend with my father.” Her face had been grave but now a faint smile came across it. Then she turned and was gone into the woods.

[Valandil]

Eldacar waded ashore and climbed up the bank. Night would come in a few hours and he was hungry and tired, with no blanket or shelter. He trudged along the bank to refresh himself in the stream, which he found just where Teleriel had said it would be. He had to wait at least until morning to attempt to swim back, or else make his way around the lake. It would grow much cooler at night, so he ate wild berries and slept upon the further side of the stream, sheltered against the trunk of a tree, in what warmth of the day still lingered into the evening. The moon was almost half-past full, and rose at about midnight. Eldacar was awakened by the light, reflecting off of Evendim’s waters, as he rose in the east. Then Eldacar arose to make his way south and west along the shoreline, shaking off the growing cold about him and walking by the moon’s light. When he came upon a cottage or farm or small village, he skirted about it. He did not wish to seek aid, for his need was not dire – he simply wanted to return home, which he could do himself. Nor did it seem within the dignity of an Heir to Arnor’s throne, to walk up to the door of a humble home dressed in only a loinclout, and ask the cottager for help. He walked until the sun broke the horizon. Then he found some wild apples and herbs and edible roots, which made a passable meal. He slept a few more hours and then rose once more and could faintly see the Tower of Elendil on the southeast horizon. He took to the water, for he knew that he could come back to Annuminas that day if he swam, but that the terrain and the shape of the lake would cost him at least two or three more days of walking – with no shoes, no cloak, no food and no shelter.

It was a small fishing boat that first chanced upon him, at about noon, after he had swum two leagues. There was great rejoicing aboard, for his father the king had mustered all craft that he could to search the lake and its shores for his lost son. By mid-afternoon he was back home at the palace, to even greater rejoicing. That evening he dined with his family in celebration, but he told them only that he had swum across Evendim yesterday and was endeavoring to swim back today when taken out of the water, and all marvelled at this, for none had sum across the entire lake before. He said nothing of Teleriel.

For the next several days, Eldacar was unlike himself. He was quiet and withdrawn. He stayed mostly in his own chambers and ate little. When his companions came for him, he declined their invitations to join them, but bid them instead to go to visit the maidens of Galeneth’s court, and mingle among them. This they began to do, hesitantly at first, but more eagerly each day – although they were each still careful not to draw too closely to any single maiden, or to appear to claim one as their own, for they still meant to allow for Eldacar to make the first choice.

A week or so after Eldacar’s return, King Valandil began to grow concerned for his son. So he commanded him to come before him once more. This time he called for him in an early evening, to be brought to a secluded corner of the palace grounds, where a fire burned low. When Eldacar arrived, Valandil had simple refreshments brought for them and then dismissed all the servants and sent the guards beyond the range of hearing. For long after, the two of them sat in silence. Valandil wished to allow his son to speak first, but Eldacar seemed lost in his own thoughts. When at last Valandil’s patience was nearly at an end, and he was about to speak, Eldacar spoke himself, his eyes fixed upon the burning embers.

“Father, I know all the princes and thanes of Arnor – and I know about those of Gondor and most other neighboring realms. Tell me father… who is the Chief of the Northern Lakes?”

Valandil first looked steadily at his son for a long while, as if wondering about the import of the question – and whether to directly answer it, or to seek why it was asked. When at last Eldacar turned his gaze from the tongues of fire to the eyes of his father, Valandil sighed, “Of that, I know some, but not much. I will tell ye now most of what I do know.”

“When my grandfather Elendil came to these shores from Numenor, you well know that he landed at Lindon with four of his ships – some few thousands of our people. With those thousands, and the aid of Gil-galad, he established this realm of Arnor. Now of course, some few thousands could dwell in a much smaller land, but my grandfather had other subjects. Some were of other peoples, but some were of the kin of our ancestors – descendants of those who did not cross over the Ered Luin in the Eldar Days. And also, there were earlier settlers from Numenor itself – descended from colonists as early as the time of Tar-Ancalime, and on up to the days when Pelargir was made in the south, and new colonists chose to go there.”

“That much, as I have said, you know.”

“Now – most of those who were here when Elendil arrived accepted his kingship joyfully. For was he not the proper Lord of Andunie – second house only to that of the kings, who had fallen? And was he not of the Faithful, as were they? And was he not, in majesty and in manner, all that was desirous in a man who would be a king? And yet – there was one who spoke against granting him kingship. He said that they needed no king… that there was peace already in the land… that kings had ever taken… never given. Nonetheless, when he found that his voice was alone, he acquiesced, and swore his allegiance to Elendil with all the rest. But never did he come before the king for ought – either to give a gift, to ask a boon or to seek justice from a rival. Instead, he handled all things by himself, as he had always done. He continued to live as if there were no king. But he did no harm. His name was Telekh – and he was accounted the leader of those early colonists who lived in the upper lakes to the north and west of Lake Uial – Evendim – where the mountain rivers step their ways down toward the greater lake. There, they stayed to themselves, excepting a few times only.

“Just before I was born, when my father came north to Arnor after our Enemy had begun to make war in the south, my grandfather sent word to all his thanes to send men for the making of a great army. Expecting little response from him, he sent to Telmir, son of Telekh (for over one hundred years had passed and Telekh had long slept with his fathers), requesting that he send 200 of his men. To the surprise of all, Telmir sent 500 men – and word that he would come himself if his age did not prevent it, so they were led by his own son Telraen.”

“Telraen and his men served faithfully and fought well, by all accounts. He even formed a close friendship with my elder brothers, particularly Elendur. He was heartstruck at the fall of my grandfather, but accepted my father as his new king, rejoicing that my father intended to come and occupy Arnor’s throne himself. With the war over, and while my father lingered, he marched his men home as soon as he could, only to arrive a few weeks after his own father’s passing by old age, for those of his kin only lived to be about 200 years old.”

“Now – you know very well indeed how my father did not return to the north, nor did my brothers. Only a few survivors came and there was much mourning across the land. Some thought to make me King of Arnor, at that moment as young as I was, but my mother and Master Elrond thought it wise to wait… to let our people grieve, to let them return to their own homes… to let me grow.”

[Valandil]

“Finally, in my twenty-first year, it was judged that the time had come for me to take up my grandfather’s scepter, crown and throne. Word was sent forth through the land that I would be made king at Annuminas on Mid-Year’s Day, in the Year 10 from the downfall our Enemy. We departed from Imladris in late spring, meeting more of our people along the way. A great following joined us at Amon Sul, and on we rode… west on the Great Road to Stonebows Bridge, north up the River Road, then west again on Ridge Road… to this very city of Annuminas. And when all were assembled, and the invocation spoken, and the will of the people was asked – only one voice spoke against me. It was Telraen – Chief of the Northern Lakes.”

“For he said, ‘What need have we of a king? We have lived well enough again without one, and there is peace throughout all the land – for the Enemy has fallen. And besides – this one is so young! He is not Elendil… who was our King. He is not Isildur… who was to become our new King. He is not Elendur… who would have been our King one day. He is a boy!’ “

Valandil looked thoughtful and paused for a few minutes.

“Some others there swayed the crowd; Elrond… Estelmo… my mother… your grandfather Ohtar. But the end result was much as it had been all those years ago for my grandfather Elendil. He gave his grudging assent, and since then, his people have had nothing to do with our people.”

“Even this was many years ago – and Telraen’s son, who was a grown man and fought the Enemy’s armies… even he must have left this world by now and gone to his eternal home. I do not know the name of the one who would follow him…”

“Telumar,” said Eldacar.

“Oh… so what do you know of this… ‘Chief of the Northern Lakes’?”

“A little.” Eldacar paused, then asked, “Is he of Baranduin?”

“Lhun – for he claims lands on both sides of Evendim’s hills – and is more readily able to reach the sea by the Lhun than the Baranduin, he claims. And the Prince of Lhun now moves his seat to his new home of Fornost, for our people under him no longer desire to live near to the folk of Lindon and apart from the rest of us. But even the Prince of Lhun has little word ever from the folk of Telekh.”

They sat in silence yet again. All that remained of the fire was glowing coals. Then Valandil spoke once more.

“Telraen was right in a sense. I was only a boy - or little more. We had little need for a king. Yet I have striven to not be a burdensome king. I believe, and have always believed, that our land needed guidance – even if only for brief moments kept apart by a hundred passing years. There is something even now in which I would guide our peoples, if I could, something that has been much on my mind of late.”

“What is it, father?” asked Eldacar, noting that Valandil had said ‘peoples’ and not ‘people’.

“Well…” said Valandil – and he seemed close to either laughter or tears, “our people are not united. All about is division – I fear it will be the end of us all. Numenor was divided into the Faithful and the King’s Men – Arnor and Gondor have been sundered more than they ought since my father’s death, and even here in Arnor…”

“Yes?”

“Even after three hundred years, those whose fathers arrived with Elendil still look down upon those whose fathers were already here – and those whose fathers received Elendil, still look askance at those who were made their lords – for it was men of the ships’ companies who became the first princes and thanes, as well as we kings who descend from Elendil.”

“But for us to continue, our people must become as one! Would that there was some way for this to be.”

“Yes…” answered Eldacar, and returned his gaze to the fire’s remnants.

Thereupon, Valandil arose and said that he must be off to bed for sleep beckoned him. Eldacar, however, sat before the fire all night, and the gardeners found him sleeping there in the early morning light.

Soon after, came the time for harvest. At these times, all joined in the work, not excepting the King’s Heir and all his followers, for strong young men such as they were needed in the fields and the King’s household had many lands to be worked – both east and south of the city. Thus the days were filled as they continued to shorten and everyone had much work to do and little time to think of other things, or for long talks with one another. Nor was there time to swim in the lake, and the waters began to grow too cold for all but the hardiest. Eldacar worked as hard as any of them, and he laughed again. He watched as his companions tried to win the favor of the young ladies at court, when they would come out to the fields to assist with the work, or bring provisions, and this made him laugh all the more. His mother Queen Galeneth found that she liked this change in her son, although it was still not what she had hoped for, and she was puzzled, but King Valandil was not.

With the harvest nearly complete, Eldacar reported to his father one night to give an accounting of his fields, as well as his herds and his flocks. Valandil rejoiced, for this was the best harvest in memory. There would be much to set aside for the winter – and everyone could be generous to any in need. So he said to his son, “Great will be the Harvest Celebration this year. Only four days remain until the Eruhantale, and there is much to prepare.”

“Father,” said his son, “I will not stay for the Eruhantale this year. I must leave tomorrow morning.”

“What? Will you take all your companions and go a-venturing? Why now?”

“Father – I must do this. I will bring only a few companions with me this time, and Annuminas will still enjoy a great day, with you as king leading our people in their celebration.”

Valandil assented, and the next morning Eldacar departed, with his brother, his two young nephews and three other companions, all mounted and they rode east and then north along the shores of Evendim.

[Valandil]

They rode at a leisurely pace. Eldacar had become withdrawn again, and while his companions had begun the trip with great excitement, they soon began to follow after his example of solitude and quiet, for he had told them nothing about where they were going or what he led them to. They soon saw though, that they simply began to circle the lake, and that the pace remained unhurried. At the end of the first day, they had only crossed the bridge over the spillway where Baranduin began before they took their halt – and spent the night at the road-station there. At the end of the second day, they camped at the head of the lake, and at the end of the third, where a stream flowed from the hills and tumbled down into Lake Evendim, and where they heard at all times the muffled roar of falling water. This last day the going had been harder for the horses, for the land between the hills and the lake was much rougher and trackless, but still, the pace was slow and the travel day short.

On the fourth day the men rose early, and as the sun first shone in the east, they faced south toward the mount where even then, the King was leading his people in the Eruhantale, which would begin the Harvest Celebration at Annuminas. Then they faced west themselves, looking in their hearts beyond the near mountains to those far-away places that were dear to their people’s memory. Then, each took his horse’s reins and they began to walk them up into the hills, alongside the stream. After only five or six furlongs, the stream became a low waterfall, but with an overgrown path beside it. Above that fall were a series of other falls, some lower, some a bit higher, with the water in some places rushing quickly in between and flowing more slowly in other places. On it went, a quarter league or more, and then they came upon a pool, fed at its head by another waterfall with another series of falls, or cascades, above them. At last they came to a lake, in a hidden valley. Scattered all along the shores they saw small homes, yet they saw no people. As they drew closer to the far end of the lake, they began to hear sounds, but not sounds of falling water. The sound grew louder as they went, and finally they began to make out sounds of music and laughter and great merriment.

This lake had run more or less southwest to northeast, and when they came to its end, they saw that it led into another, greater lake that ran southeast to northwest. There, on the shore ahead of them, they saw a crowd of people in celebration about a great fire, with smaller cooking fires all about. They also saw that in the middle of this lake was an island, and upon a high bluff of that island there stood a great home, like an ancient manor house or villa of old Numenor, but suited for these northern climes.

As they had evidently not been seen, Eldacar bid his men to dress themselves in the clothes he gave them. These were great black tunics with the emblems of Elendil upon them, the crown above seven stars over a white tree – small emblems on the breast for his men and a large emblem centered on the chest for Eldacar, and white leggings and undershirts for the men, but black for Eldacar. Then they mounted themselves and rode slowly toward the celebration.

Before long they were spotted. The noise of the crowd slowly waned as each in turn saw them, and a hush came upon all who watched. As there were so few of them and they seemed to offer no threat, the crowd’s anxiety changed to curiosity and they patiently awaited the arrival of these visitors. Then, striding forward through the crowd came a great man with long brown hair and beard, and he stepped ten paces beyond the crowd and stopped, foremost among those who would greet the newcomers.

“Greetings and good day to you, sir,” said Eldacar, halting as he drew near. “And may it be that you have had a great harvest.”

“Good enough for us!” said the other. “But you are not from here. I have heard of those emblems you wear. Who are you and why have you come here? For the kings have left us to ourselves these many long years.”

“I am Eldacar, eldest son and Heir to King Valandil, who rules over this very land from his throne at Annuminas. If Eru grants it, I will be king myself one day, and grant it I think he will indeed. I have come for that which kings ever come… to claim the very best that this land of yours may yield.”

The man seemed taken aback by this boldness, but his look of surprise was soon supplanted by a scowl. Eldacar however, had already urged his horse into a trot, and he began to look about, this way and that, at baskets of harvested grains, and of gathered fruit, and at livestock nearby and at pigs prepared for roasting over fires, as though appraising the value of all that he saw. At times he slowed and at times he sped by, and all this while, the people stood transfixed, watching this strange spectacle, and even his men hung back, uncertain of his intent. Finally, having ridden about and through all the crowd, Eldacar came back before the man with whom he had spoken and addressed him once more.

“You are Telumar, are you not?”
The man gave a single nod of assent.

“You have many fine things here Telumar, and many would account you a wealthy man. Yet there is only one thing among all this you have that I would desire.”

“What is it?” asked Telumar, his eyebrows knitting together.

Eldacar dismounted and let his horse’s reins fall to the ground. He walked toward Telumar, but then walked past him, to a tall young maiden with dark hair, now in a dress with richly woven patterns like autumn leaves. He took her hand in his and led her before Telumar.

“This – my lord, is the thing of greatest worth of all that you possess, and the one thing I would have. Thine own daughter Teleriel. It is she that I would ask as your harvest debt long overdue to the House of Elendil, and which will now be adjudged paid in full and thrice overpaid! If she will permit it.” Eldacar turned his gaze from the eyes of father to daughter. Teleriel met his gaze briefly, then blushed and turned her eyes downward – and then looked to her father as if awaiting his assent.

Telumar’s face became the grounds for a wild array of emotions. He eyed his daughter with suspicion and toyed with anger, amusement, grief, and Eldacar thought, suppressed delight. When he spoke though, it was in challenge. “I know not whether I indeed owe ought to that house, but know this. My daughter has had suitors before, and all have been found lacking. She has had no mother for many years, but she has two elder brothers. Telmung! Telron!”

Two young men came forward – the first fully as tall as Eldacar, but almost as broad as his father Telumar. The second was shorter and much smaller of frame, but long of leg.

“Come now – follow me – all of you,” said Telumar. He led them up beyond the commons where the celebration had been taking place and up a nearby hill, just a bit above the lake. At the top, he pointed to an old gnarled tree, standing alone on another hill, some two furlongs distance, across a shallow valley.

“My sons challenge any man who would take their sister from our home. He must first outrun Telron to that tree and back to this spot. If he wins that race, he must then out-wrestle Telmung.”

“It sounds a perilous challenge indeed. How good a runner is Telron?” asked Eldacar.

“He has been beaten only once – and that time he fell.”

“I was tripped!” added Telron, with a broad grin.

“Never mind about that,” joined in Telmung. “It finally gave me something to do! And I paid back many times the offense given you.”

“What does your sister say to all this?” asked Eldacar.

“She would have it no other way,” said Telmung. Teleriel stiffened proudly and Eldacar was not sure how to read that.

“She might have been taken from my house barely out of childhood if not for these two sons of mine,” said Telumar.