4. chapter 3
Lindir began to head southwest toward the coast as the
scroll said. It had already been 3 weeks and he was glad when he encountered
Gildor. The gypsy elves welcomed the young minstrel. On his first night, Gildor
sat beside him at a small fire.
“How is it that Elrond let his head minstrel lose?” He said
with a smile
“I asked.” Lindir answered matter-of-factly.
“Perhaps the question really is why the minstrel left.”
“I wanted to study music from other realms and people.”
Gildor gave a knowing smile. He had lived a very long time
and knew when someone was hiding something. Still, it was not his place to pry.
The two sat in silence before Lindir took a deep sigh.
“I know that you have lived long and seen much,” he began.
Gildor gave the young one a sidelong glance and nodded his head. “There is
something that I have seen that I do not recognize. Would you look at it?”
“Of course, pen neth. What is it?”
Lindir went to his pack and retrieved his journal. The
silver-haired elf opened the journal and handed it to the elven lord. Gildor’s
eyes went wide and his face paled.
“Wh… where did you see this,” he asked in a shaky voice. By
now, Lindir was worried. He really did not want to show anyone the scroll but
the blonde’s reaction scared him.
“You know the seal?” He asked instead.
“Aye, I know it. I marched under it, so to speak.” Gildor
stared into the fire, lost in a distant memory. He continued, “It was the first
age. Arda was in turmoil and Eärendil braved the sea to seek help from the
West. The great horns blew and an army was assembled. We all had our family
standards. And we came as a great host, though ours was not the greatest.
Before us was the host that marched under that standard.” He pointed to the
picture before going on. “Before us were the Valar, under Manwë’s standard…”
“Are you saying that this is Manwë’s insignia? Manwë, the
King of the Valar?” Lindir interrupted in disbelief.
“That I am, penneth. It was what the Dark Ones saw first,
and it struck such fear in them. Humph…struck fear in us as well. Where did you
see this? You are too young to have seen the banner yourself. I thought none
recorded it in the histories.”
Lindir stared at his wringing hands in his lap. “No, my
lord. I…um…” He did not know what to do. He was shaking like a leaf and had
paled. Gildor knew that it was more than finding the symbol in some ancient
book. Lindir took a calming breath. “It was a seal on a scroll that I found in
“A seal on a scroll? Who gave you this scroll?” A concerned
“No-one, my lord. I just found it there, after I had left
Imladris. I thought it was a note of good-will snuck into my bag by a friend,
but I knew no one with that mark.”
“You say you just found it packed in your belongings? It
“Yes my lord.”
“No one would dare use the symbol of a Vala. Lindir, this
scroll…it had to have come from Manwe himself. He placed it in you pack as only
he could enter undetected. Thou…I have never heard of this happening. Lindir,
this is a serious matter, and I fear it. Would you share with me what it says?”
Lindir could see the anxiety in the other’s eyes. He did
not understand what was happening and he would feel better if he were not
entirely alone with his knowledge. “It was a rhyme of sorts.” He started.
“Would you…would you like to…um…see it.”
“Aye Lindir, I would.”
Lindir rose and returned moment later with his pack.
Sitting back down, he removed the scroll and handed it to Gildor. He sighed,
knowing Gildor was going to have questions.
With reverence, the Vanya unrolled the scroll and read it
contents. “It is certainly a rhyme, a clue. It seems there is something or
someone the Vala wants you to find. Why he did not send it by traditional
“Traditional methods?” Lindir choked.
Gildor chuckled. “There are times when that Valar
communicate with those in our realm. They send visions and dreams, or a
messenger. In all my years, I have never heard of a Vala stashing a note to be
found at some later time.”
“What if I had not found it? What if the message was not
for me but for another and I opened it!” Lindir began to panic as the realization
of what happened hit him. Manwë, King of the Valar and Arda, had visited him!
Gildor put his hand on the minstrel’s shoulder. “Calm down,
meldir. If it were not meant for you, you would not have found it. You have
been blessed…it seems that Valar have an interest in what you wish to do. They
are guiding you. It is forbidden for them to directly interfere in the
happenings on Arda, however, they can tilt the scales, so to say.”
“Why would the Valar care about my wanting to learn more?
Elves do it all the time.”
“Yes, but you are looking for a specific teacher, are you
not?” It was not a question. Gildor knew the truth, but said nothing about it.
If Manwë felt the idea was a good one then who was he to argue?
Lindir looked like an elfling caught out after bedtime.
Gildor held up his hand. “This is not my concern. It is between you and the Valar, it seems. Just know that none will learn of this or of your quest from me.”
Lindir visibly relaxed. “Hannon le, my lord. If you will excuse me, I am very tired. If I may, I would like to continue to travel with you for a time. There is much I can learn from your people and you are traveling in the same direction as I.”
Gildor looked up at the now standing elf. “You are welcome to stay with us as long as you wish.” Lindir tuned to leave. “Lindir…” The minstrel stopped and turned to the gypsy. “…If ever you need to talk, I am here.”
“Hannon le Lord Gildor. Good night.”
“Good night, penneth.” Gildor closed his eyes, ‘I hope the Valar know what they are doing.’ He chuckled as he opened his eyes. ‘Of course they know what they are doing.’
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