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Old 08-25-2010, 07:15 AM   #350
mark12_30
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Question The tale she will probably never have time to write...

The heavy inn-door swung open, and a slender hobbit stepped inside. Seated several tables into the inn were a ranger and the young loremistress, both of whom stood. "Well met, Lindo, " said the ranger. "Welcome, Loremaster," said the loremistress with a slight bow.

"Mellonin. Ravion." The hobbit bowed to each in turn, waved for a half-pint, and took the proffered chair bolstered with several cushions.

They echanged several pleasantries, til Ravion said "And now, I am as eager as you are to know why Mellonin sent for you."

"Indeed, " said Lindo, turning to Mellonin.

"Well, I am wondering... Perhaps I shall write a new tale," said Mellonin, with a shy smile.

"Good heavens, you have not finished the last one," said Ravion. "Do you not think you owe us the final pages of Tapestry first?"

Mellonin ran her fingers down the wet sides of her glass. "The tale is mostly told. But how can I write about my own Mellondu's grief?" she said.

"How is he?" asked Lindo.

"Moody and sad. He will not look at women or talk to them. He spends all his time at the forge, but he never sings, and he does half the work he used to."

Lindo shrugged. "You must not be surprised. What mortal could forget Nimrodel? He will do well to be healed of his loss ere he fades from his prime."

Ravion did not like the flash in Mellonin's eyes, so he changed the subject. "What is this new story you wish to write? And why?"

Mellonin smiled again. "Partly it is all this talk of elven ships sailing west. Mellondu often speaks of Amroth's ship. But elves are not the only ones that sail. I think I shall tell the tale of a Numenorean voyage, of the Dunedain."

Lindo's eyes sparked. "Really."

She hid a smile. "Not that I can spare the time, of course, but still. I can feel the characters coming to life."

Lindo's half-pint arrived; he paid for it and sat back. "I sailed with a Dunedan once. Go on."

Ravion grunted; so that was why Mellonin had sent for the hobbit.

"And Mithadan was his name. And his ship was called The Lonely Star," Mellonin's eyes glowed and she leaned forward. "Tell me more of him."

"I asked you first, " said Lindo, poking a finger at her. "Who are these characters coming to life?"

"I must learn more of ships first."

"Tell me who they are!" Lindo did not budge.

"All right. Elendil's fleet... Tall ships and tall kings, three times three. You know the rhyme?" They nodded. "This is not the story of Elendil. It is the story of the man at the tiller, and the men who steered the ship."

Ravion blinked. "Does not the man at the tiller steer the ship?"

"He obeys commands, he does not choose her course," said Lindo. "The officers do that, by the captain's will."

"Exactly. But this tillerman has a broken heart."

"Did not they all?" said Ravion.

Mellonin had not thought of that. "Well I know they all grieved the downfall of Numenor. But the tillerman's grief was sown before that."

"By whom?"

Mellonin blinked. "I do not know." She gave an embarassed little laugh, and shrugged. "I only know he is heartbroken."

"Perhaps his previous captain broke him, " Ravion growled. Mellonin winced.

Lindo shrugged. "Perhaps he served under a Black Numenorean. Perhaps your tillerman was part of the force that invaded Valinor."

"Perhaps, " said Mellonin. "But I do not know. I only know the officers do not understand his grief."

"Officers? Ah. So we have Elendil's fleet of nine ships. Our ship has a fearful and brokenhearted sailor at the tiller; and-- officers. They are...?"

"Weary and hardworking and determined to be brave. Too hardworking to have much compassion on the tillerman. But what if the tillerman keeps making small mistakes?"

"Small mistakes."

"Perhaps not quite finishing things right. Or off at the tiller by a few degrees, that sort of thing. So that in the dark, they lose sight of the rest of the fleet."

"That is no small mistake, " said Ravion.

Lindo shifted in his seat. "The drowning of Numenor... Elendil's fleet was scattered, was it not? I saw the drowning of Beleriand; one might lose one's way or one's ship with no mistakes at all. But go on. No mercy from the officers?"

"And the tillerman is breaking, slowly," she replied. "And so are the things he is supposed to take care of, because he is too distraught to make sure the little things are correct. He has little strength left."

Lindo studied her. Captain Mithadan had been fierce about many "small" things. "So the more mistakes he makes..."

"The angrier the officers become, and the more the tillerman's heart is pushed to the breaking. Only they have nowhere to go but forward."

"So," said Ravion, "what happens when the ship starts to break?"

"Well," said Mellonin, "I am not sure what will break first, his heart or his ship."

"If they got separated, they have a palantir?" said Ravion.

"This was the ship carrying the White Tree. No palantir, " said Mellonin firmly. "But Elendil was aboard."

Lindo said, "Surely Elendil kept a palantir."

Mellonin primly shook her head in turn. "No. No Palantir."

"But look here, " Ravion replied. "They made it. All nine ships came to Middle Earth. It cannot have been so bad."

"Driven by the wind and tossed," murmured Lindo. "They made landfall up and down the coast of Lindon. No captain wants to be at the mercy of the wind. So what happens to our tillerman?"

"Over the side with him," said Ravion.

"You cannot mean that!" said Mellonin.

"They might, " said Ravion gloomily.

Lindo disagreed. "Able-bodied sailors are not cast away. Besides, there was nothing Black about Elendil."

"But the captain and his officers...?" said Ravion.

"...were not Black Numenoreans either. They would bow to Elendil," finished Lindo.

Here Mellonin leaned forward; this was what she wanted. "So if Captain Mithadan had been in Elendil's place...?"

Lindo lifted his half-pint. "Mithadan would not let the broken man fester."

"But the tillerman was not visibly broken, " said Ravion. "Was he?"

"No, he hid his grief," Mellonin said.

"So how would Mithadan have known?"

"The officers were discontent, and so Mithadan would have known," said Lindo evenly.

Ravion shook his head. "The officers knew that he was making mistakes. Stupid mistakes. That does not mean a broken heart."

"But if it does, " said Lindo, "it takes more than discipline and anger to find the brokenness. If the tillerman is a good man, you fight for him. Mithadan would have."

"How?" said Ravion. "And how would he even have known that he was broken?"

Lindo smiled sadly, shrugged, and then burst out laughing. "Why, if I knew that, I would be a sea captain, " he said.

Mellondu sat bolt upright. "Do you not know how he would know?" Ravion looked equally dissatisfied.

Lindo sobered, and spread his hands. "I am a loremaster! Mithadan had a way with his men that I could never have. He had a good head and a good heart, and he knew how to use them well. That is rare, I guess, even among navies and armies."

"So," said Ravion. "Mithadan would take charge of the tillerman and... do what?"

"No, " said Lindo. "Mithadan would take the weary officers aside, strengthen them, and show them how to lead the tillerman."

"But the tillerman is broken."

Lindo nodded. "And it will take much more than a beer, or a night of drinking, to put him back together. Broken trust is a difficult thing, is it not? Perhaps taking orders from a Black Numenorean is more horrible than we can imagine; with orcs you know they are rotten through and through; but in a Black Numenorean there might have been enough nobility left to confuse a good man. What happened to the tillerman before he joined Elendil?" He shuddered, thinking of Gamba's ordeal. "Human sacrifice, dark sorcery... or was he just swept up in the invasion of Valinor?"

Mellonin shook her head. "I do not know that part of the tillerman's story. I do not even know whether it was the Black Numenoreans."

Ravion grimaced. "Without knowing what his story is, how will Mithadan train the officers to care for him?"

"That I do not know," said Lindo. "I am a loremaster, and no healer. Neither was Mithadan a healer; he was a captain, and a leader of men. But Elendil was a king, and the hands of a king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known."

"But I thought, " said Mellonin, "that you would know what Elendil would have done."

"No, only what Mithadan would have done," Lindo replied. "He would have strengthened the weary officers, perhaps teaching them when to wield mercy. As for the tillerman, if it was healing he needed, he would have found it at the hands of the king. "

"Kings are busy men," said Mellonin.

"Seamen are valuable," replied Lindo. "Besides, Elendil had four ships-- and according to your story, three of them were nowhere to be seen. He had time for the tillerman."

"Oh, dear, " said Mellonin. "Mithadan would not deal with the tillerman, but Elendil would. Even though he far outranked the officers in between?"

"But not as an officer," said Lindo. "As a healer. And as an officer, he would not neglect training the younger officers, even as Mithadan would have."

"It makes sense, " said Ravion. "Elessar still goes to the houses of healing."

"It doesn't make sense to me, " said Mellonin. "Not yet."

Last edited by piosenniel; 09-05-2010 at 01:29 AM.
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