Chapter Five
She sat in the library, her uncle next to her and tried to concentrate on the tiny scrawl that covered the page. Her uncle's writing was pretty, but more of a pattern to her than anything meaningful.
"Please look, Yarna. Your name is only two syllables, you should be able to remember it." Erestor showed her the runes again. "Now copy them out." She returned the scribble back to him and he rewarded her with a tiny half smile.
"Still at it?" She smiled as Glorfindel came into the empty library and waved.
"She is quicker than others." Glorfindel leaned down to them, resting his head on top of Erestor's.
"I could read before you were born." Yarna amused herself by flicking ink at them, trying to see if they would notice. Erestor's hand sharply took the quill away from her.
"She is definitely related to you," he said with a smirk. "I suppose having managed to misspell your own name two dozen times in an hour has earned you a break." She jumped down happily. Writing seemed an odd thing to have to do when everything was already written down. She could find anything in the library, why would she need to add more?
"This one." She pulled out a large volume with silver leaves etched onto the cover and placed it on Erestor's lap which she promptly climbed into as well. Glorfindel's hands had wrapped themselves around his shoulders so she quickly pushed the irritating limbs off of her uncle.
"Without a doubt." She huffed as they continued their joke, she did not find it funny when she could not understand it.
"Well of course she is." Glorfindel kissed her head and retreated. "I shall be out on the practice field." She waved at him before tapping the book impatiently.
"One day you will learn to read this yourself," Erestor mumbled. "Instead of demanding to be read to."
"But I cannot do the voices just right. Ada did them." She heard him sigh and knew that she had won even though the reason he gave in escaped her. "Please?" He opened the book and obligingly flicked to the start of the story. Within days of being in Imladris she had found which shelf housed the books of tales among the thousands on lore and history. Finding how to get someone to read them to her had taken slightly longer, her uncle Glorfindel did not do satisfactory dramatic voices and Galdor's tone when he read annoyed her. Erestor did not need much persuading to sit with a book.
She found that there were few other children in the valley. Lindir and his friends were one group, but too old to keep up their patience with her for long. Instead she found the only other elfling who was similar to her in age. Edweniel had a somewhat mouse like quality about her, more shy than silent Yarna soon found that when the floodgates opened, she was unable to stop the taller girl from talking. There was one other child, Valandil, son of Isildur in the valley. His mother kept him to their chambers most of the day except for his lessons. Then Yarna and Edweniel would watch curiously from the side-lines as Glorfindel taught the eight year old boy to spar with a wooden sword. Lady Lentalin in Mithlond had given them all wooden swords occasionally and Gandir used to teach her how to draw a child's bow. Only elves did not learn the arts of warfare as early as Men had to. At eight Valandil looked older than Yarna, perhaps the same age as Edweniel. He however, lacked their strength and even lessons from the Balrog-Slayer could not account for the fact that two elfling girls were stronger than him.
They had gotten bored of merely watching this stranger one day and Yarna had procured wooden training swords from the armoury. She and Edweniel ran out into the empty space near to Glorfindel and Valandil, tapping their swords together.
"Stop!" the boy yelled at them. "This is my lesson. Go away. Girls can't practice sword fighting." Edweniel put her sword down immediately, looking at Glorfindel in anticipation of a rebuke.
"Your lesson is over there. We are here and practicing." Yarna turned her back on him and handed Edweniel back her sword.
"Leave them be, Valandil. Come, your lunge is too high." Edweniel knocked Yarna's sword aside easily, the younger girl being a good foot shorter.
"They are disturbing me. Make them go away!"
"Valandil." She heard him coming closer and grinned, tapping Edweniel's shins for want of anywhere higher to reach for.
"Leave. Girls aren't allowed to fight. Go back and sew or sing." Still they ignored him, Edweniel catching on. It was a trick Gandir had perfected when Alsea irritated them, simply to play deaf and laugh as she got more infuriated. "I command you to leave. I am the King's son, and I say leave."
"Valandil, that is enough." Yarna heard the weary snap in her uncle's voice and it made her turn around. Valandil had not, his grey eyes still glaring at her. He looked like Elrond, she decided, only without any of the niceness of his face and smile. Glorfindel strode forward and pulled him back. "Shoo, little pests. Go and practice elsewhere." Defeated by the tower of gold that was her uncle's glare, they both retreated to the side-lines.
"He has become spoiled here," Edweniel whispered as they climbed into the tree that had become their meeting place. "He only eats with us when Lord Elrond puts on a finer fare than usual. Since before you arrived Lords Erestor and Glorfindel have been teaching him. My sister is a scribe, she says he is hopeless at lessons but proud. Too proud."
"Men are strange," Yarna decided. "You are a better warrior than him, yet he says you should not be there." They had all seen Edweniel's attempts at sewing and she would do better with a blunt stick than with a needle.
"Come, we can follow him to Lord Erestor." Follow him they did, staying silently out of sight as only elves could manage. Not once did he turn around or suspect they were there, not even when they stole into the schoolroom behind him.
"Valandil." Erestor looked up and sighed before apparently thinking better of welcoming the girls.
"Mother says my father is coming here soon. He is coming to fetch his Prince."
"A prince, how could we forget? Well, sit down." The door opened at that moment, Nairn's head peeping around it. She looked at the two girls sitting now on the window sill opposite in surprise.
"Elrond asked for you." Erestor seemed to smile at that, or rather his face lifted slightly.
"I shall be but a moment." Then they left and the three children were alone, one oblivious to the other two. Valandil poked at the papers Erestor had been working on, moving them around with interest.
"Leave them be," Yarna snapped from across the room, making the boy jump. "You cannot go through someone else's papers."
"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do? How did you get in here?"
"It is rude to go through another person's things," murmured Edweniel.
"And we used the door." In sync they folded their arms, two dark haired elflings glaring at the boy.
"I am the son of the king of Gondor and Arnor. You can't tell me what to do." Yarna had seen Alsea wear that face before when she was pretending to be older and wiser than her. She knew of Gondor and Arnor but they seemed very far away and of little importance. "Who are you?"
"Yarna, and this is Edweniel and those were my uncle's papers you were going through. Put them back."
"You cannot even read them," Edweniel added. Valandil simply ignored her.
"Your uncle? Lord Erestor. Lord of where? There is only Imladris, and Elrond is lord of that. I suppose he is my uncle, since his brother founded my line, in a way. So, your uncle is not lord of anywhere which means you can't tell me what to do." Yarna glanced at Edweniel to check if the logic was correct. Cirdan had been Lord of Mithlond, Elrond was Lord of Imladris so she wondered where her uncles were Lords of now.
"They were Lords of Gondolin," she told him. "Which is older than Gondor or Arnor."
"And gone long before either of them," Erestor said as he entered the room. "Be gone you two, unless-" Elrond appeared just behind him and the two shared a long look, the sort of adult conspiracy glance. "It would save time."
"Perhaps it would be beneficial to them. It is not my permission you need."
"Girls, sit down." Elrond had a sly grin on. "Will you weather the storm for me, my friend?" Erestor pleaded.
"Afraid, dear advisor? I shall inquire." Elrond shut the door, leaving the three children looking at their tutor curiously.
"History then. Valandil, you can start. The events leading up to the fall of Númenor." Yarna pulled her knees up to her chest as she listened to the boy retell the story slowly.
"My grandfather and the emissary from Lindon went to the king but he refused to listen to them."
"It was uncle Glor," Yarna interrupted quietly. "He went to talk to the Men with Galdor. They broke their ships."
"They did." Erestor was smirking to himself.
"The king still went West and the realm was thrown down," said Valandil. "What did they do to the ships?"
"Galdor went and cut their sails, and untied their halyards." Yarna stared at the three blanks looks she was getting. "The rope that hoists the sails up."
"I have determined that she can stay," announced Valandil. "If she remains interesting."
"The second age must have ended," they heard Erestor murmur.