November 18, 1436 SR: A day of days. I will never, ever be able to figure grown ups out, if I live to be a thousand years old.
Lady Iorlas sent a footman to fetch me to her house in mid-afternoon, and he held this thing over my head as we walked along, it is called a Parasol, and it is a kind of portable roof on a stick, and it folds up when you're not using it. We must have looked very odd, this tall Man, and this little Hobbit, walking through the rain, under the Parasol.
Lady Iorlas and Sir Landroval live quite near the palace, in a very grand house indeed. Her butler is like a Duke or a Prince, he is so handsome and solemn. He took my cloak and handed it to yet another footman, and then he led me up a flight of marvelously ornate stairs and into Lady Iorlas' boudoir. She got up to meet me, and she came and took my hand and kissed me on the cheek. I nearly fainted with shock. Come in to my parlour, she said.
It is the loveliest room. The silk hangings alone must have cost the earth, and there were so many pretty things to look at it nearly made me dizzy. There was a nice fire in the hearth, and beside it a table all set out with tea things, an urn of hot water with a flame underneath, and a tray of sweetmeats. The china cups were as fragile as rose petals, you could see the light through them. She made the tea and all this time neither of us said a word. Finally I said, This is a lovely room, Lady Iorlas.
She glanced around. Yes, it is, isn't it? she said. I spent a great deal of time and money on this room, once. It seemed important at the time. Do you take milk in your tea, Elanor?
Yes, I said. Thank you. I took the cup from her and then set it down again. It rattled a little in the saucer and I thought, Oh, please, don't break one of these cups!
We sat and sipped our tea in silence. She was looking at me with an odd expression on her face, thoughtful, and rather sad. I had to speak, I couldn't stand the silence. I am so glad you're going to sing with us, Lady Iorlas, I said.
She smiled. Dear old Master Targon, she said. It quite brings back old times. She set her cup down and leaned back in her chair and drew her necklace through her fingers, winding it around and letting it fall. You know, she said, I haven't sung at the palace since before the War. That's how long it's been. It makes me feel quite ancient.
I suppose if I had been a man, or if I thought quicker, I would have said something like, Oh, no, you're as young as ever, Lady Iorlas. But I said only, That's a long time.
How old are you? Fifteen? When I was fifteen, I used to sing for my kinsman, the Lord Denethor. He was Steward of Gondor, you know. He didn't live in the Palace, but he would have feasts there, and hold court. I was afraid of him, when I was a young girl, but I loved to sing, and I loved to go to the Palace. His sons Boromir and Faramir were playmates of mine, when I was a child. I understand that Faramir and the Lady Eowyn are coming for Yule?
Yes, my Lady, I said. They are expected about the 10th of December.
You have never met him, have you? No? He is a fine looking man, much like his father was. She sighed. But his brother, the Lord Boromir-- I quite fancied myself in love with him, at one time. Long ago. It never came to anything, not even a kiss.
To my horror, I saw that her eyes were swimming with tears.
She got up and went to the window. But he loved to hear me sing, too, when he was here, she said. He was very restless, you know, always adventuring off somewhere. He was the most beautiful knight, really splendid. Just the sort of fellow to turn a young girl's head. She looked at me and smiled. Still, I didn't ask you here to bore on about my salad days, Elanor. I imagine you've been wondering why I did ask you?
I have wondered, Lady Iorlas, I said.
That young Lady Narma has been a trial to you, hasn't she? she said.
I could feel myself flushing hot. Did Sir Landroval say anything to you? I asked.
About Narma? No, he didn't. Why? What would Sir Landroval have to tell me about that?
It's just that one day he was there when she was being rude to me, and he told me not to mind her, that's all, I said. He was very kind, I explained.
Yes, she said. He can be very kind, my dear old Landroval. Then she laughed. Oh, I know, Elanor. My marriage has been no bed of roses, not for him, nor for me. But, strange to say, things are going better between us now. Are you surprised?
Well, I said, I'm surprised that you would talk to me about it, Lady Iorlas.
Now she really laughed. So am I, she said. But sometimes a woman has to talk to another woman, you know, and here we are. I have no women friends. I seem to remember telling you that I didn't want any friends, didn't I?
Yes, you did. Have you changed your mind? I said.
She leaned over and took my hands in hers and squeezed them a little. That's what makes you interesting, Elanor. Your frankness. I like that. You're not afraid of many things, are you? Well, at any rate, I don't want you to be afraid of me. Whether we can cry friends or not, I don't know. But it was a friendly impulse of mine, to invite you here, because I want to do you a good turn. Will you let me, and not be offended?
What kind of good turn? Why would I be offended? I asked.
I heard what Narma said to you the other day. About your gown, and how you were not in your proper place. Even at my unpleasant worst, I don't think I was ever that hateful to anyone, Elanor. If I'd been you, I would have scratched her eyes out.
I wanted to, I said. I didn't care what she said about me, but she insulted my Father. My voice broke and I started to cry. Did you hear that, what she said? That Father had been useful to the King? As if he had been--as if he had been cleaning the King's boots or something.
She handed me a dainty handkerchief, and said, The Lady Narma is just like her mother was, Elanor, and she was just as mean to me. For the same reason. I never had new gowns, either. She couldn't sneer at my family, but she made my life miserable, when we were girls. I hated it. Being at court, living among rich people, but being so poor that I could never get new things, could never fritter away silver on trinkets and toys, always had to watch every penny. She smiled ruefully. My father used to say, Rise above these things, Iorlas, remember who you are. Well, that was never any consolation to me. You're probably not so shallow as me, Elanor, and maybe it doesn't bother you, not having new gowns. But I think it does, a little. Doesn't it?
I nodded, and blew my nose on her lovely cambric handkerchief and said, It bothers me a lot. I know it shouldn't, and it's partly my own fault, because I bought Pixie, my horse, instead of saving my money for clothes.
Then, let me help you out, she said. She got up and pulled the bell rope and in a moment her maid came in. Maggie, she said, bring those things out of my closet. The things we sorted out this morning.
Her maid came out carrying an armful of things, and she laid them on the bench, and stood with her hands folded, looking at me in a measuring way.
Lady Iorlas held up a blue gown, shimmering taffeta. Do you like this, Elanor?
It's beautiful, Lady Iorlas. But your gowns could never fit me! I exclaimed.
Not as they are. But they will, when they have been remade, cut down for you, and retrimmed. Please say you'll take them, Elanor. Look at this one, this lovely chestnut velvet--it would look so gorgeous with your blonde hair. And this, the green, I know you like green. Maggie here is a capital needlewoman, and she would like nothing better than to remake these gowns for you, wouldn't you, Maggie?
The woman smiled in a kind of rusty way, and said, Whatever you say, my Lady. Then she said, My Lady is right, Miss. Those gowns would be lovely on you, with your pretty colouring. I can't say I ever saw such golden hair before.
Then Lady Iorlas held up a fur cloak, a deep, shiny mahogany brown, soft as thistledown in my hands, and light as a feather. And this, she said. It never became me, and Landroval bought me something else. This would be perfect on you, why, on you it would be a full length cloak, not just a wrap. Here, put it on, and look in my glass. She wrapped it around me and set me in front of her mirror. There, she said, look at you!
I stared at the Hobbit in the glass, and smiled. I never saw anything so pretty before, I said. It's so soft! Then, I took it off, and dropped it on the chair. I can't take these things, Lady Iorlas. They must be worth a fortune.
They are good things, Elanor. I have always bought the best, since I was married. But now I am too old for these things, these bright colours. It's true, too, I'm not just saying it. These gowns have been in my closet for years, unworn. What's the use of keeping them?
And the fur? It's not a bright colour, I said.
No, that's true. It isn't. But, I truly don't wear it. Maggie, show her my fur cloak. There, she said. This is the one I like. That brown never suited me, with my black hair. It was a mistake to buy it. She wrapped herself in a cloud of silver blue fur, and made me smile as she preened in the mirror. Our eyes met, and she had the grace to laugh. So, she said, we have a bargain?
There is no bargain, Lady Iorlas, but I will take these things, if you're sure you don't want them any more, I said, rather reluctantly.
It's a bargain to me, Elanor. I don't have many generous impulses, you know. Let me have my way? She gestured to the maid. Here, Maggie, take her measurements. Quick, before she changes her mind.
I stood still while the woman ran her tape over me, muttering under her breath. Lady Iorlas poured more tea and sat sipping it, watching.You can trust Maggie to make them up, she said. Maggie knows all the latest styles, and she knows what suits everyone, don't you, Maggie?
I ought to, My Lady, Maggie said. I've been dressing you since you was married, haven't I? There, Miss. My, you are tiny, aren't you? Still, you've a good figure, and you stand nice and straight, not like some of these lazy slatterns. She patted my shoulder in a motherly way. Wait until you see yourself in these gowns, Miss. You'll look a treat, believe me!
It was getting very dark, and it was time for me to go. I wanted to say something other than Thank You to Lady Iorlas, but I didn't know what. She went downstairs with me and tied my cloak strings as if I were a child. You know, she said, there is absolutely no reason for anyone to know where these gowns of yours are coming from.
I nodded, and on impulse, on tiptoes, kissed her soft cheek. I can't thank you enough, I said. I hope I'm not doing wrong, letting you give me these things.
Wrong? she frowned. Elanor, don't make too much of this. Don't spoil my pleasure in giving them to you, please? I'll tell you what. Why don't you ask the Queen what she thinks? Do you trust her judgment?
I shook my head. I won't do that, Lady Iorlas. I know you wouldn't lead me wrong.
She smiled ruefully. There are those in this city who would fall over dead if they heard you say that, Elanor. Now, off you go. Good bye!
Back up through the streets under the Parasol, beside the tall Man, in the dark and the pouring rain. It was nearly dinner time when I went into the common room, everyone was dressed and waiting for the bell. Every single one of them stared at me as I came in, as if I had returned from a lion's den, or something. The King said, We were just about to send a search party out for you, Elanor. Did you have a pleasant time?
Very pleasant, my Lord, I said.
The Queen nodded. I thought you would, Elanor. It was very kind of Lady Iorlas.
I met her eyes, and she smiled. She knows, I thought. She knows all about it. Yes, I said. She was very kind.
The dinner bell rang and we went in to dinner. I went in on Prince Darius' arm and he pinched my hand as we walked. Out carousing, he whispered. You should be ashamed, you scamp!
