[Child of the 7th Age]

After others had gone to bed, Nitir stayed up late at her small table. In front of her sat a fresh sheet of paper. It was not one of the crumbled little scraps which she used for her interminable lists. Rather, it was that rare thing, a new and crisp leaf large enough to hold many words.

Carefully, she reconstructed the story she had heard tonight from Ancalimon. Word-by-word and sentence-by-sentence she relived every moment and carefully wove together all the details. There were a few points that seemed hazy to her, and other places where she had questions. She vowed to ask Maura about it the very next day.

She had to laugh at herself. Since her second dream, she had avoided even thinking about any kind of lore. She had given her consent to Nienna's plan of forgetting, but it had still seemed like cruel deprivation. And part of her grieved over what had been lost. For Azra, that loss had meant little. But, for Nitir, the scholar and historian, it was her whole identity, one of the reasons for her being.

But she knew now she was mistaken. The tales had not gone away. They were there, and they were still important. If she couldn't remember the stories about the future, she could at least learn more of the past, especially those accounts that concerned her own people.

She vaguely remembered reading a thick book on Elvish history which contained a short chapter on the origins and fall of Gondolin. Nitir knew the tale had left out many important facts. For one thing, it omitted anything about Piosenniel. Readers didn't have to know exactly who Pio was, or where she had come from. But, surely, they should learn about the brave stand she had made defending Idril's household. She needed to make certain about that.

And it wasn't only the writing of the lore that needed doing. It was the sharing of it as well. She and Maura were kept so busy with the basic needs of the community that sometimes other things just slipped by. But, as Maura himself had argued so persuasively, what good was it to have food in your stomach if you had absolutely nothing in your head? Nitir made a note to talk to Maura about visiting once a week to tell the children stories.

And then there was the problem of Lindo. Perhaps the poor fellow, who sometimes looked quite mournful, needed some help in the nursery. One or two of the girls were old enough to lend a hand. She should discuss that with him tomorrow.

He had a definite gift in writing poetry and song. Maybe she could redirect some of this energy. He spent many hours composing somber ballads about the Curse of the Noldor or how to escape from the smoke of the burning pines. She had tried to smile and be encouraging about these songs, but it seemed to Nitir that something was missing. There were so many holes in the history of her own people. And understandng that tradition was just as important as running after Elves. It was all well and good to write lays to the Lady Elbereth, but that Lady didn't seem deeply involved with hobbits. Perhaps she had enough to do just managing the affairs of Elves.

Ancalimon, however, was a different matter. Like Maura, Nitir didn't know quite who or what Ancalimon was. But, also like Maura, she understood that he had been sent to them from the household of Nienna. If Nienna and Ancalimon had special love and care for hobbits, then the hobbit people must return that love and respect the best way they knew how. And surely one way to do this was by joining words with music.

Nitir put away her pen and paper, and vowed to speak with Lindo very soon.

[ August 14, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]