Chapter Text
Oil and Water for the Winter Woes Prompt
Beth & Minnie
“Lord Legolas I think you had better come.”
I look up from my work. The voice is easily recognisable but the tone, which is urgent, is not. Captain Saelind is usually unflappable; it is only recently that things have changed. If elves could change hair colour I suspect his might have turned white!
I do not have to guess as to the cause however. Over the last few days, it has become quite a common phenomenon. Who would have thought things would turn out as they have? I certainly did not. It was my intention to do something kind, something that would bring us all pleasure and enjoyment during the Turning of the Year festivities, but somehow all has gone awry.
How that could have happened I do not know, for it all started out so well.
A few months ago, we had an invitation to go to Minas Tirith for the Mettarë celebrations. This in itself was not so surprising. Over the years we have been to the White City many times at the turning of the year but this time the new lord of the Glittering Caves had also been invited and Gimli, on hearing this, was determined that he at least would not attend. I was surprised initially but once I heard his reasons I fully endorsed his choice.
“Eh Lamb,” he told me his face one of mingled pride and grief, “Greirr is the Lord of Aglarond now, and my presence could make things uncomfortable for him and Dravalia with the lords in Gondor. There are always them that will say that things are not as they were or are watching for Greirr to make choices that might run counter to mine. Of course I wish them both well, and know that Greirr is more than capable of holding his own in negotiations and in court business, but he will manage it better if the old Lord is not there to be turned to or to be asked to give advice that he does not need. I will look forward to seeing them both and Galinn and their new son, but not in some public place such as the Merethrond. Next spring will be time enough for me. Mind that is no reason why you should not go.”
Of course, I refused to go alone, I would be equally happy to see my dwarven brother, Galinn and my new nephew but I would not go without Gimli.
While I agreed with him that it would perhaps not be wise to attend Minas Tirith I felt sorry for my guardian and set about trying to come up with some scheme that might make our own festivities here in Ithilien en-Edhil more enjoyable for him. He has sacrificed so much that it seemed unfair that he should not get to see his family when they were so close by.
This was made easier when I heard from Gimli’s sister Dorbryn and her husband who told me that they too had been invited to Minas Tirith and wondered if they might spend some time in Ithilien en-Edhil as well. “For well do I know that my brother will not wish to crowd out Greirr on his first visit to Gondor as Lord of Erebor so we will not see him otherwise” Dorbryn wrote.
I immediately wrote back to Dorbryn telling her we would be happy to see her, and asking her to say nothing to Gimli. She was happy to agree to keep quiet about it so that he might be surprised by their arrival. It was agreed between us that they would travel south with Greirr and Dravalia and then I would send an escort to Minas Tirith to bring Dorbryn and Thorûr here. I was in alt over the whole thing. I could hardly wait for the news that the dwarves of Aglarond had gained the White City so that I might surprise my Gimli.
The first part of this plan worked incredibly well, and Gimli was surprised and delighted when the dwarven cavalcade arrived and the reunion between brother and sister was lovely to see and we had several days of pleasant discourse together. Only one thing threatened our enjoyment and that was the weather.
Ithilien usually has mild winters, but occasionally they are hit by severe storms that bring biting cold and heavy snow. The snow does not last long at worst a few days or weeks if it is particularly bad but it makes travel difficult and the roads north or to the west into Gondor become impassable. Those of my kin who know weather lore had been growing concerned over what they thought might be a powerful winter storm blowing in and Gimli and I decided that although it would mean cutting short their visit we ought to escort Dorbryn, Thorûr and their party back to Minas Tirith where they might escape the worst of the weather.
All was in train for this to happen when the scouts reported seeing a group of travellers approaching our border. They were soon identified as dwarves, a large party, made up of riders, guards and pony and goat carts.
It seemed that Dravalia had felt uncomfortable in the White City, and that she was worried about the health of her new baby and so Greirr had given into her pleadings to be brought to Ithilien en-Edhil to be with her mother by marriage.
Happy as we were to see them, well most of them for I was dismayed to see that beside Magen, Thorûr’s father a dwarf who had never quite accustomed himself to my addition to the family, the party was accompanied by a healer Mistress Lilja someone who I have had far too many run ins with in the past.
Still initially, things went well. Dorbryn, Dravalia, her new baby and Mistress Lilja shared the guest quarters. Greirr, Magen, Thorûr and Galinn moved into Gimli’s rooms while Gimli came to join me. Saelind and Galathil agreed to share their quarters, which meant that Captain Vestri, Greirr’s captain had somewhere to sleep and work. The other dwarven warriors we put in the cleaned out grain store where our own warriors slept during the winter months. The additional animals were bedded down with our own beasts. The situation was not ideal but with the threat of the storm our priority was to get everyone into some kind of shelter and it was as well that we did for the storm turned out to be one of the worst we have encountered here in Ithilien en-Edhil.
The wind began to blow not long after our unexpected visitors arrived and so there was a flurry of activity to ensure that all that we might need was on hand. Thanks to Gimli we have water pumped straight into the main hall so that was something we did not have to concern ourselves about. There was also sufficient food and fodder put by for the winter months; we even had some ale that Gimli and Galathil had been brewing for the Solstice celebrations. There was plenty of wood stacked and dry to keep the fires and braziers burning and oil to light the lamps. Given the likely severity of the storm, all of my own folk had come into the main buildings so it was something of a squeeze but better that than have someone perish in the cold. The sentries were called in from their posts, doors barred and windows shuttered.
Gimli and I watched the approaching clouds; the wind was causing them to race across the darkening skies like the Mearas on the plains of Rohan. They were grey and heavy with snow. The wind has been gradually increasing in ferocity making the trees bend and whipping the branches back and forth.
“This looks as if it will be a bad one” Gimli opined.
I could not disagree and was only thankful that Greirr’s company had reached us in time. Had they been caught in the open their situation would have been perilous.
I give an involuntary shudder and immediately Gimli is fussing around me insisting I wrap my cloak more tightly about me. I try telling him that it is not the cold that made me shiver but I do not think I convince him although I am telling the truth for once.
Instead, I turn his attention by commenting that I am glad to be within the thick walls of the hall he built for us, “I had not realized how much extreme weather I missed when I lived in Eryn Galinn because we were snug in the caves, I suppose it was similar for you in Erebor.”
“ True enough lad, there is much to be said for living beneath the earth but good solid stone,” here he slaps the wall, “Will do the job just as well. We are safe enough here, it will take more than a few puffs of wind to bring this down, when a dwarf builds he builds properly.”
“And I am grateful for it, and for you insisting on building this hall, we would not be half as comfortable as we are without it. We may be a little cramped in the next few days but at least we are secure.”
I turn to look at the door as Thorûr and Greirr come to join us, both well wrapped in thick cloaks and furs.
“I had no idea the weather here could be so cold” Greirr commented.
“It is not often so, but when winter comes here she comes with a vengeance. I am surprised no one in the White City warned you that a storm was coming on.” Gimli replied.
Greirr looks a little self-conscious about this.
“They did, but Dravalia was determined to come to Mam. She was worried about little Kildin and missed having another female to talk to. The king’s household did their best but at times like this, she needed her own kin. I am glad we reached you when we did.”
“Aye so are we.”
The wind picks up suddenly and begins to howl, bout the corner of the hall. Gimli closes and bars the last shutter cutting off our view of the storm but not before I catch a glimpse of the first snowflakes beginning to tumble and fly. I suspect by morning we will be snowed in completely.
Inevitably, the additional number of dwarves and animals, the worsening weather have led to tensions between my folk and our visitors. It was bound to be the case given the two disparate groups being confined in cramped surroundings with rapidly deteriorating weather. This is why I should have expected Saelind’s call to me, now.
Sighing I push away from the desk and follow my captain out into the swirling snow.
“What has happened?” I ask as we hurry across the clearing towards the stables.
Saelind answers with one of his own “How much do you know about goats?”
“They are stubborn, fierce and obstreperous.”
“Rather like their owners then who are insisting that the quarters we have allocated are unsuitable due to the goats being too closely stabled to the horses. Apparently it is putting some of them off their fodder.”
I cannot see what the problem is here, for it seems obvious to me and so I say. “Then the simple answer is to move them.”
“Yes and so I thought too, but unfortunately we are struggling for space for the animals just as we are for our other unexpected guests I …”
He does not have to say more for as we approach the stable door I hear the sound of very angry voices. One I recognise immediately, my stable master Silvyr. He is an ellon of very decided opinions and it seems that he is expounding some of them at the top of his voice. He is answered in like manner by another voice and my heart sinks. Magen! It would have to be him of course.
“Dinna be so daft, man.”
“I am no man”
“True enough ye are not, for a man for all his failings wouldn’a speak so foolishly about a subject he knows nothing about.”
“I have lived for over two thousand years, dwarf, and I know my craft well enough, you now …”
Saelind and I sigh as we push open the doors to see Silvyr and Magen toe to toe.
“Is there something amiss here?”
Two faces both darkened by anger turn to me, and speak out at once.
“This dwarven fool …”
“Yon pointy ear …”
I hold my hands up and they fall silent.
“Master Magen I take it that you find the accommodations of your goats not to your liking.”
“Aye ye may say so. They dinna like being with these long legged beasties of yours and this fool willn’a make a push to find them somewhere more suitable.”
“Where would you have me put them?” Silvyr snaps at him then turns to me to try to explain himself. “I have tried to tell him my lord, that we are doing our best in what is a very difficult situation.”
I look about me searching for some compromise, but can see no obvious solution. Every stall is in use, some of our horses are even doubling up which makes it difficult for both them and those charged with their care. The goats have been put in a pen near the door and bales of straw have been used to make a more solid barrier than the usual stalls have.
“I am sorry Master Magen” I begin in as a conciliatory voice as I can, “but I have to agree with Master Silvyr …” I get no further for Magen throws up his hands and growls.
“Of course ye do! What else could I expect from an elf.”
My good intentions of keeping calm going glimmering in the face of his antagonism.
“You forget you are here as my guest Master Magen, albeit at the present an unwelcome one.”
Magen’s face goes from red to deep purple, his fists clench. Saelind puts a hand on his sword, in response to the perceived threat to my person.
“If it was not for ye, Lord Gimli would yet be Lord of Aglarond” Magen snarls at me. “And we dwarves would have no need to leave our halls to talk with men and associate with the likes of ye.”
That accusation stings because it is true enough and my guilt makes me want to score a point or two off Magen who has never liked me or approved of my being accepted into dwarven society and I have the perfect weapon to do it too.
“If you had heeded the advice given to you in Minas Tirith, we would not now be standing in the cold discussing goats! It is not my fault you find yourself in this situation but yours.”
Master Magen, glares at me for a moment or two then pushes past us out into the snow.
I watch him go, regret mingling with satisfaction for having discomforted him.
I know I should not have said what I did, for Gimli warned me only yesterday to say nothing more over whose decision it was to ignore the warnings over the weather proclaiming that men did not know what they were talking about when it came to predicting weather. Greirr had told his uncle and me in strictest confidence about it when Gimli took him to task over his choice.
“He was so certain Uncle Gimli, and Dravalia wanted to be with Mam so I allowed myself to be persuaded. I should not have done so.”
“Well lad, no harm done thank Mahal,” Gimli responded, “ but best if we keep such information between ourselves. We all know how prickly Magen can be and he is like to be in a bad enough temper being trapped here and by his own decision mark you, that he will be fit to burst a blood vessel.”
We had all laughed at that, but I was not laughing now, knowing that Magen would very likely take his complaints to Gimli or at the very least look to cause more mischief between our folk.
“Do what you can Silvy,r” I advise my stable master, as Saelind and I make for the doors. “I know the situation is difficult, and Master Magen is not most amenable of dwarves but if there is any solution you could come up with to help I would be grateful.”
“I will see what I can do Lord Legolas”
“Master Magen should not have said what he did,” Saelind says
“No” I give him a rueful grimace, “And nor should I.”