Celegorm fears they may all be turning into dwarves the longer they stay with them.
5. Living with Dwarves
For many days we enjoyed the hospitality of the Naugrim. Work, feast, sleep. Wake and repeat. The twins tried their hand at mining and the forge but they were too young for such hard labour. I soon grew weary of the mining and nightly feasts. Elves were never meant for life in caves, not even the Noldor who worked the mines and the forges. In the Nargothrond healers cited the lack of sunshine and fresh air as reasons why many of the elflings born there failed to thrive. Orodreth had to send his wife and young son away to Falas.
My fea yearned for the freedom of the woods, even if it were the shadowy copses of Mandos. I would have slipped away if I could but somehow I could not seem to escape the pair. Once I fled outside into the woods but had to return to the Halls of the Dwarrow when Huan came bounding after me with the Elurussa crying on his back. Afterwards, the pair clung to me like limpets to a rock.
Soon they grew bored too. When the Ambarussa got bored, they thought up all manner of mischief. Once when a rare snowstorm kept everyone indoors for days, the household was subjected to a prank-fest. Kano had his harp strings painted with honey. Nelyo had the seat of his pants glued to his chair. I had my shampoo replaced with red dye and Moryo had bacon tied to his bootlaces before Huan was set on him. Curvo got it the worst when a bucket of glue was dumped on him, followed by a pillowcase of feathers. He looked like a badly-plucked chicken for the next week as the pair used the heavy-duty glue from Atto's workshop.
The Elurussa did not disappoint.
Hapless dwarves found their tools missing, only to have them pop in unexpected places. Nails, nuts and bolts started showing up in boots, startling their wearers when they pulled them on for the day's work. Of course, the petty-dwarves were blamed for it at first. Then strange things started happening in the kitchen and laundry. Coal was mixed into the laundry, turning the shirts black with soot. The turnips meant for stew showed up in the beer. It was a funny-tasting batch we ended up with.
The twins soon got careless and were caught by one of the Dwarrowdams. Durin let them off after a lecture. For a while they were on their best behavior. Boredom would set in and the pranks started anew. Miners would trip over hidden wires in the tunnels and be covered with sticky molasses, mashed turnip or whatever the twins managed to spirit away from the kitchens. Projects would mysteriously fall apart or have bits missing.
As forgiving as the Naugrim were of young ones' antics, their patience had a limit. I reluctantly agreed to spank both rascals at dinner before seven very annoyed Dwarf-fathers. I did not hit them that hard. The pair sulked for days afterwards and I found a dried-out rat carcass in my beer stein. After Curvo's mishap, Atto had spanked and locked the Ambarussa in the cellar for a whole day as punishment. They would have been there longer had Amme not intervened. I was greatly tempted to take a leaf from his book.
It was only a matter of time before the Elurussa be reduced to the status of the petty-dwarves and treated as vermin by the Naugrim. It would not do for princes to be treated thus. It was not as if they would get any older or wiser here. Moreover, I was beginning to feel like a Dwarf. We had picked up some smattering of Khuzdul and their sign language. They even had us singing their naughty drinking songs after the beers. Hope the twins forget the words soon. They are not fit for polite Eldar ears.
I am an Elf, not a Dwarf. I had to make a conscious effort to speak Sindarin and Quenya with Huan and the twins for fear we would all forget that.
Finally I approached Durin for advice, recalling his talk of that deep place in their halls. Perhaps we could find our way back to the Elven halls of Mandos by looking into it.
"Should never have mentioned it," Durin muttered. "It's a dark pool some say goes deep into the bowels of Arda, where unnamed creatures created before the Sun lurk. Some say one could look into it and find answers, or death."
"We are all dead already, Master Dwarf."
"I speak of the Void, Master Elf. Not just death but nothingness." My chest tightened. The words of the Oath we all swore so foolishly that fateful night taunted me.
"We will not lead you there. It is against our ways to put our guests in danger. You can try to find the way alone, but the tunnels are many and numerous. Be warned you might still be searching when Arda breaks."
Try as I might to threaten or bribe the old dwarf, he would not relent. At such times, I wish I had Nelyo's charm, Kano's sliver tongue or Curvo's cunning. Instead I was left aching after a day's hard toil at the coal face and stew which tasted too strongly of pepper because the twins had gotten into the kitchen again. They now squabbled with each other over a toy as Huan gnawed resignedly on a piece of scrap leather. Life in the Halls of the Dwarrow was taking its toll on my canine friend too.
I had heard of scrying – the art of looking into the still water and opening the mind to Lord Irmo's influences. Finrod and his sister were said to be exceptionally gifted in the art, thanks to Melian's tutelage. Uncle Ara was said to have shown promise but he never developed the gift. I knew the basics. My brother Maglor attempted a scrying at Formenos once and failed. Perhaps he was right when he declared all he saw was darkness.
I had never attempted scrying before but I tried later that night with a small pan of water. It did not work. I stared for what could be hours until my eyes ached but there was nothing but water. Then Huan knocked the sodding lot all over me. I let loose a loud torrent of curses. The twins woke up loudly crying for their Nana. Their ruckus was greeted by curses from irate dwarves roused from their slumber. The pair's piercing cries were enough to wake the dead, quite literally. Huan apologetically snuffled his nose against my soaked chest.
We need to find that secret pool, before Durin exiles us from the Halls like that miserable petty-dwarf Mim has been urging them to do.
I recalled that mad ride for safety with my brother wounded behind me after Himlad fell. There was also the shameful flight from Nargothrond with Celebrimbor severing all ties with us as Orodreth and his court watched on coldly. We were thankful only curses and insults were hurled our way instead of spears and stones. The uncertainty which followed us was horrible, even if we had a destination to head for. Now we know not where the Halls of Awaiting stood in the strange forest outside.
Author's Notes:
I am drawing some inspiration from both Galadriel's mirror of the Third Age and Mirrormere where Durin had his vision and founded Khazad-dum.