November 25, 1436 SR: There has not been much snow, after all, but it is, if anything, even colder than it was at the beginning of the month. We are still planning, preparing, and working on our Yule festivities, and we Maidens are also still having to plan our pretend Feast. Mistress Mardilain is so busy you would think she could forget about that, but she forgets nothing!
This time of year there are no flowers in the gardens, and yet we will have flowers in the palace for Yule. Today Master Ostoher came to speak to the Queen about what she wants in the way of fresh greenery, and how she wishes it to be arranged. This is a notion of Queen Arwen's, she has the gathering rooms of the palace decorated in this way every winter. Master Ostoher manages one of the King's farms in the Pelennor, and it is almost totally devoted to growing flowers and herbs, and he is passionate about his crops, he probably knows more about plants than any one else in the Kingdom. He has been allowed to see Radagast's notes, about plants in those other worlds, and it's too bad Thunderbird isn't about, to take the poor man to those places and let him bring cuttings back!
Almost every Herb has some Medicinal use, even the most obscure. In Minas Tirith there are many Healers and Leeches, folk come from all over the Kingdom to be seen by doctors here. Some of those who come also wish to be touched by the King, after the old manner, and since there are so many, the King has set aside one day in every month to see these ailing folk. The Queen has also done this, in the past, but now that she is with child she does not. All of that line, the line of the Halfelven, are believed to have the healing touch, and so the Queen must have it still, in part. It is hard for me to judge this, just how much good it really does. So many of these people are past the help of the doctors, the King's touch is a kind of last resort for them. Most seem better, at least at that moment, and the King's compassion must at least ease their hearts. It is just as well that I am not part of the Royal family, because I could not do it, I hate having to deal with sickness, and pain. When I said that to the Queen she looked very sad and she said, That's because you are so young, and healthy. When you have suffered yourself, you will feel differently.
Perhaps so. That's what older people always say, anyway. As if growing older was a cure for everything. At any rate, Master Ostoher also grows flowers and the palace is kept supplied with whatever the Queen desires. I think she misses the groves and greenery of her old home, and sometimes finds this stone city cold and unlovely, and as long as there are flowers in bloom, we have them all about us here. Mistress Mardilain has the choicest culinary Herbs for her kitchens, but most of the crops are sold in the flower market down by the quays, and some of the medicinal plants go to the Houses of Healing.
Master Ostoher always arrives in a wagon, one he had specially made, closed in, and kept warm inside with hot bricks, to keep the blooms from wilting. He rides on the seat by the driver, and today he must have been half frozen, it is so cold. He unloads certain baskets himself, not letting anyone else touch them, and today was no exception. The Queen was enchanted, because he had baskets of Daffodils and Narcissus in bloom, bulbs he had "forced", as he put it.
These few are just to show you, my Lady, he said. Do they please you?
They're lovely, the Queen said. How did you do this? The fragrance! You have brought Spring with you.
Asking someone like him a question like that is asking for trouble, because it was a long, involved explanation involving beds of decaying horse manure (!), and very costly glass houses, and artificial winter, and "fooling" the plants. It bored me to tears, but it did not bore the Queen, and Master Ostoher must have gone away very happy. He will bring many such baskets next time, enough to dress the tables for the Yule feast, and more besides. And he has men out in the woods cutting greenery, and Holly boughs with red berries, and the evergreen Ivy. (That is a new song we are learning, one Master Targon has written, called "The Holly and the Ivy", and it is so pretty, with such an unusual melody.)
I went to Lady Iorlas's house today and tried on two of the gowns that Maggie has sewn for me. They fitted nearly perfectly, certainly I thought so, but Maggie tsked and tsked, and pinned me in here and pulled me out there. She had me standing on a chair and turned me around as if I was a doll. But how beautiful these gowns are! The brown velvet, especially. Such beautiful cloth, shimmering with almost golden highlights. Maggie has made the dresses very plain, and at first I was disappointed, liking a bit of lace, or gold braid for trim.
But she shook her head, and said, No, Miss, you must study to dress plainly, you would not like to look fussy and overdone, would you? You are not tall enough to carry off a lot of detail.
Lady Iorlas was watching all this and she laughed. Elanor, you must listen to her. She has such excellent taste, for I have taught her!
Maggie snorted. My Lady, don't tell such fibs. Taught me, my foot.
She's right, Elanor. She guided my taste, for the longest time after I married Sir Landroval. She's always right about these things, her eye is unfailing, Lady Iorlas admitted with a smile.
There, Miss, Maggie said. Look at yourself. See how the gown brings out the gold in your hair, and sets off your lovely complexion? If we tarted this dress up with lace or braid, it would draw the eye away. Just pin your hair back up, like this. There. Now, what does that look like?
It looks wonderful, I said, I hardly know myself. I stared at the Hobbit in the mirror, and smiled at that pretty girl and she smiled back. I twirled myself about, and the gown swung like a bell around my ankles.
Maggie smiled her rusty smile. Yes, she said. You'll do, Miss. Now let's try the blue taffeta.
After she was done fitting me, she left me and Lady Iorlas to a cup of tea. Lady Iorlas leaned back in her soft chair, reminding me of a comfortable cat, boneless and graceful before the fire. Well, she said. I must say my old gowns are going to have a whole new life, Elanor. How well those two become you!
I have to thank you again, Lady Iorlas, I said. And I need your advice about something.
Good heavens! she said. My advice?
Yes, my Lady. It's this: will I pay Maggie, for the sewing? It seems like such a lot of work for her, to make dresses for me. Or will she be offended?
Elanor, people are very seldom offended by being given money! No, no, I'm not being cynical, it happens to be true, and Maggie is no different than anyone else. I pay her a very, very good wage, you know. Many women in Minas Tirith would love to steal her away from me. My whole reputation--my reputation as a leader of fashion, you know--derives from her. Lady Iorlas sipped her tea, and said, I think she will not be offended if you offer to pay her. She may refuse, who knows? Lady Iorlas hesitated, and went on, But, Elanor, do not make yourself short of money over this. It isn't necessary.
Oh, I laughed. I'm quite rich now, my father sent me money by the King's messenger. Not rich by Narma's notions, probably, but certainly by mine.
We went on to talk about the Yule feast, and the music, and Lady Iorlas said, Well, I guess this will be my swan song. Landroval and I will be going to the country early in January, and I don't know when I might be back here.
I was a little surprised, and I said, But Lady Iorlas, I thought--I thought you might have changed your mind about that.
Why? she said. What has changed? She frowned and stared into the fire. My life has not come out the way it was supposed to, you know. I am defeated, and I withdraw from the contest.
I shook my head. I don't understand! How, defeated? I wanted to say, but I didn't, that she was caught up on trifles, on matters of fashion, and society, nothing important.
As if she could read my mind, she said, I am out of place here, Elanor. The city is not the city I knew, the city I hoped to conquer, with my wit, my style, my--personality, if you will. And I am so tired of it, tired of being talked about and tired of doing the things that get me talked about. There is a whole part of my life that your innocence shelters you from; that, and the life you live at the palace. I need a fresh start, and I won't get it here. Besides, I have to get to know my son.
For a moment I was puzzled, then I remembered Hirgon, Sir Landroval's son. Oh, I said.
She laughed. Yes, my son. It's surprising to me, Elanor, but I find he is not actually such a bad fellow, considering. I once tried to buy him off, you know, but he would have no part of that. He's an honest young man, at any rate. Landroval is very fond of him. In the normal course of life I am likely to outlive Landroval, so it will be well for me to be on good terms with his heir. Since I cannot queen it over the city, I will go to the country and queen it there. I daresay it won't be so bad, once I get used to it.
I thought of that, of this brittle sophisticate set down in some castle somewhere and I wondered how it would serve. And, secretly, deep down in my heart, I wonder the same about myself. I have not been here even one year yet and I already wonder how I will like living at Bag End again, back in the Shire. I get homesick still, but I am not homesick for the house, or for the village, but for my family, for the people I love.
