Not Entirely Forgotten by Elrond's Library  

Not Entirely Forgotten

Rivendell, Imladris, the Last Homely House this side of the sea, relied on an established reputation. It was a place of rest, of healing, of knowledge. Its Lord was kindly and wise, its warriors fierce in defense of peace, its fields fecund and fit to burst, its valley hidden from all shadowy eyes.

Idyllic as it may have seemed on the surface, Rivendell had a significant problem in Gimli’s eyes.

For this warrior of Erebor was also an amateur scholar, and Rivendell’s library was sorely lacking in the thing that interested him most.

“Where is your section on the Lamps?” He asked brusquely. There was only so much time before matters of present provisions and logistics and the path they would take east to Mount Doom occupied his mind, but now, in this small moment of respite, he was determined to see what Rivendell had to offer.

The librarian at the desk shrugged “Lamps? You’ll find everything we have on Fëanorian lamps in the Fëanorian section. Third floor, row seven. Mannish lighting sources are split between the Second Age Mannish section – second floor, rows fifteen through thirty-three – and the Third Age sections, this floor, over there.”

Gimli shook his head. “No,” he said slowly. “The Lamps. The Lamps of the Valar. Illuin and Ormal.”

The Elf blinked. Frowned. “I … I confess, Master Dwarf, that I … don’t … know.”

Gimli raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Is there another who might?”

The librarian nodded. “Follow me.”

Gimli was lead through a series of offices, those back rooms occupied by many scribes in the business of mixing ink, preparing paper, cutting quills, and, of course, copying old records onto new parchment. Time didn’t stand still in Rivendell, as timeless as the Elves seemed to be at times.

They stopped at a plain door. The elf knocked twice, then left him standing at the door.

The Lord of Rivendell opened the door, a delighted smile bursting across his face as he ushered Gimli into his office and the plush armchairs tucked into the corner near the hearth. “Welcome, Master Gimli. Please, come in. Tea?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, Lord.”

Elrond Peredhel bustled about, porcelain clinking as he poured a fresh cup and presented it to Gimli. “What brings you here?” Elrond finally asked, settling into his own armchair.

Gimli sipped at his tea. “Knowledge, Master Elrond, for your library is known far and wide for its vast collection of works dating to the the time before Sun and Moon, and all that came after.” Gimli smiled. “Alas, I seek even older knowledge, of the twin Lamps, Illuin and Ormal, which Mahal created for his Green Lady.”

Elrond simply hummed as he sipped from his own cup of tea, eyes cast down into the brown liquid like it could tell him the answers he sought. “We do not have many resources about the days of Almaren. Only those that concern … well. The attempted swaying of the Maia Ossë and how that was foiled by Lady Uinen, his wife. Too, we have records of the successful seduction of the Maia Mairon, he who has become our Enemy in this Age, by Morgoth, he who was our Enemy in the Elder Days. Neither are first-hand accounts, of course. The Maiar tend to be …” Elrond shrugged. “Tight-lipped. About those days.”

“But nothing about the Lamps themselves? Their construction, their height, perhaps, or even the source of their light?”

“Only what stories that were told in Númenor before the flood, which claim the Lamps never existed at all.” Elrond sighed. “But then, they also claim in the same breath that Men awoke before the Eldar, and that certain tonics can induce excessive virility in grey-beards far past their prime, or that setting foot in the Blessed Lands will convey immortality to the walker. Such stories are not to be taken seriously.”

Gimli snorted, amused.

Elrond continued. “You may consider asking Mithrandir. He may speak in riddles, but he was there.”

Gimli only nodded. He had been so convinced that Rivendell’s grand library would have the answers that he sought.

“You will receive the answers you seek,” Elrond suddenly whispered, completely still, eyes far away. “One day. Far from here.”