Chapter 7: Weaving

The next morning, Lossrilleth made her way to the weaving hall, her mind still brewing. She relished the challenge of fixing the cloak, for this at least was a tangible problem with a real solution. Besides, she enjoyed the weaving hall. Many elf-maids gathered at the weaving hall, for fiber arts of all kinds were popular as both art and diversion. What few friendships she had begun to form once she was deemed fit to be in public, she had met at the weaving house -for it was a place where ladies gathered to learn from each other and socialize. Lossrilleth was well-acquainted with Lorelain, a skilled teacher of weaving and embroidery, who Celebrian had introduced her to some years ago.

Upon entering the hall, Lossrilleth began to search for Lorelain, who could almost always be found in one corner or another giving a tip or admiring a well-done piece. The weaving hall was large, for it accommodated many looms, some of which were enormous. Lossrilleth admired the tall ceilings, supported by polished wooden beams, and the clean white walls chosen so as not to interfere with any artist's color choices. Floor to ceiling shelves lined the south and east sides of the hall. These were filled with threads and yarns of many materials: silks, linens, and wools both undyed and dyed in many handsome colors. Tools for weaving, embroidery, sewing, beading, and lacemaking were organized in tight-woven reed baskets. At the east wall she indeed saw Lorelain, picking out a spool of thread.

Well met, Lorelain, I hoped I would find you here this morning. Lossrilleth said gently, hoping not to interrupt.

Well met, her teacher replied, looking up from the thread in her hands. I did not expect to see you here. You have not come to work on your embroidery for some time now. Lorelain gave a pointed look down her nose at the shorter elf. And besides, I had thought you would be too busy – I have heard you are learning the art of archery now. Lorelain was a dignified elf-lady, so she did not smirk.

Lossrilleth was taken aback by how quickly rumors travelled in Valinor. These were Tolkien's elves – the best Christians he could imagine! Man before the fall of Eden! And yet here they were, gossiping like fishwives.

Indeed, Lossrilleth replied, equally as sanguine as her teacher had been. There was no point in denying the truth of the matter, and she thought it might only give the rumors more power if she engaged them. I have come on an errand, actually, not to practice embroidery. I wish to fix a piece of weaving using darning. I have not seen you use that technique here; do you know it?

Lorelain was impressed with her student's cool redirection. Whatever was said about the strangeness and mystery that surrounded Lossrilleth, the older elf had to admit that she rather like the younger lady.

Yes, Lorelain admitted, we do sometimes use darning for fixing cloth, although at the point when Elvish cloth comes to need it we tend to either re-use its thread or let it return to the earth. But we use the darning technique as a way of embroidering cloth as well. So perhaps you shall practice embroidery today after all!

Lossrilleth smiled with amusement and asked to be shown where she could find a small hand loom, needles, and grey wool thread of the right kind. The origin of the cloak did not miss Lorelain's attention, but she decided to respect her student's implication that she would rather not speak about a certain elf – for now! Instead, the two spoke at length about the best method for repairing the small holes. It would not be a simple task, for the cloth had been woven with a subtle texture that would take some skill to replicate. Once teacher and student were satisfied that Lossrilleth had what she needed to repair the cloak, Lossrilleth turned home again – grateful for her teacher's friendship, and her discretion.

Upon returning home, Lossrilleth carefully washed the cloak and laid it out to dry, then dressed for dinner. It had felt good to retreat from her worries and questions for a day and work at solving a problem she could hold in her hands. Expecting only the company of Elrond and Celebrian, with whom she was going to have to have some frank and embarrassing discussion, she chose a white shift and a simple linen dress in a light green color.

To her surprise, Lossrilleth entered the Elrond's dining room and found not only her foster parents, but also Galadriel and Celeborn gathered for the evening meal. (This was not so unusual a gathering in this house, after all, they were all family - but she ordinarily would have been warned at least.) She paused in the doorway a moment and wondered if she should leave and dress again for company, but it was too late. Galadriel had seen her and beckoned her in the door with a warm smile. The gathering enjoyed a merry meal together, telling many tales of their adventures in Middle Earth for Lossrilleth's benefit, and for their own reminiscences.

When the meal was over, and the party now talking here and there simply for the pleasure of each other's company, Lossrilleth cleared her throat and asked for the attention of the room.

Much has been on my mind of late and I would speak frankly with you all, Lossrilleth began with dignity, quickly finding four elven faces wearing the same careful not-smirk that she had seen Lorelain wear earlier.

Celebrian interrupted, perhaps we should speak privately – you and I and perhaps my honored mother, if she would join us. I am sure a young maiden such yourself has many questions at such a time.

Exasperated and in safe company, Lossrilleth burst out, oh for goodness' sake, I wasn't going to ask you about that in this company. I admit, I have questions that need answering but they are not what you seem to think. You appear to have the impression that I was a very young girl in my human life: it was not so. When my body died, I was 35 years old – that could have been halfway through my lifetime had it not been interrupted by an earthquake. I was a fully grown woman, who had a profession, lived independently and certainly knew the truth about how children are begotten!

The elves shared a careful silence and a few glances. Lossrilleth was indeed correcting a misconception they had had about her previous life. She implied, gladly artfully, that she in fact had not been a maiden. They wondered if she had had children of her own. The subject of disclosing the truth of her background had already been discussed discreetly when Lossrilleth's foster family saw that she may soon begin courting, but this now posed more delicate questions.

Lossrilleth continued, I wanted to speak to you all, in this storied and wise company who have guided peoples of all races through many strange and perilous moments in history: for I am disturbed by the mystery of my sudden fall into existence here in Valinor. If that were not enough by itself, as I believe you had noticed, there are some particular peculiarities about how much I know about this world. Such questions trouble me greatly. In truth, in my world, there were a series of books written by a man called Tolkien. It was said they were fantasy, written by him as he healed from the wounds of a terrible war in which he fought, and made for the benefit of his children's amusement. But these stories now seem to be proving true: indeed, the history of your people as you have taught it to me is the same as in his book, the Silmarillion. The stories of the one ring in the third age in his tales entitled "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" also match the histories you bade me study. I have known all your names since I was a child on another planet.

What's more, I find it strange that I find things so similar in that world and in this one: the game of chess, for example. How can this be? For many years now I have enjoyed my time in Valinor and have not questioned my existence. It seemed to me that it must be either a dream or madness, and in either case it did not matter. After many years of wandering about deep space, I was glad for the change. But now I find myself becoming entangled with another. Before that can continue, I think it is my duty to sort out the truth of my presence here. I know too many stories – some of them my own – of people pressing forward blindly because emotion bade them to. Too many times it comes to grief, and I would not cause harm by my actions if I can prevent it.

No one was hiding a smirk now. Elrond looked thoughtful and a little impressed. Galadriel smiled at Lossrilleth with appreciation. We did ask the Valar when you first came here about your provenance, but they could tell us nothing more than that Eru themselves willed that you should live among us, Galadriel said. Thus, we have not questioned that you should be taught to live as one of our own. To us this world is real, and you are real. You have the blessing of the Valar, those who shape creation in all Ea, to live as an elf. I do not think they would say thus if your presence were perilous to this world or to any elf.

Elrond nodded slowly. I think I must agree with Lady Galadriel, although I too am curious about the knowledge you had of us.

But what if the Valar simply do not know? Lossrilleth asked. In my world, we had many stories of people traveling through time and space to other worlds or times than their own. In too many of those stories, the traveler and all who came to know them were unaware of some danger the traveler could cause to everyone through some secret mistake. I would not harm this world, nor any being in it. If only Eru knows, is there some way to ask such a being directly?

The elves were surprised and quite hesitant at this question. In their world, the Valar were the highest authorities – they knew all the knowledge that was necessary for Ea to unfold according to Eru's design, from beginning to end. But it was true, they had not known anything about Lossrilleth except that she had been given form and favor by Eru.

There is a legend, Galadriel began slowly. The other older elves all gave her a strange look. That if one travels south, past the Forest of Orome and down to the very tip of Aman, that there is a great mist over the waters. It is said that one who would speak to Eru should swim out into the mist and beg audience. But I cannot say if this is true or only a rumor so old and changed with time that it is complete fiction. I do not know of anyone who has actually undertaken such a journey or spoken to the creator. I could not recommend it to you as a course of action, for I know not its wisdom.

I would speak with Mithrandir about this, Elrond said. And look in our books of lore. Lossrilleth, I think you are wise to seek to act with clear eyes. But it is possible that in this there will be no clear answer, and you will have to listen to what your heart tells you.

Lossrilleth looked upon the faces of her dearest friends in Valinor, who had all helped and supported her as she adjusted to this new life. She saw caution and thoughtfulness in them. But more than that, she was surprised to see in their eyes a new respect that she had not seen before, and she knew that they had listened to her seriously.

Thank you for your help, Lossrilleth replied, I will think carefully about what you have said, and would hear what Gandalf and your books tell you when you consult them. As for listening to the heart, I will bear caution still. For the heart is easily seduced by desire, and desire lies.