November 30, 1436 SR: Another weather bulletin: still very cold. The King and the Council have sent men out in all directions, to buy fuel and send it to the city. The supplies are low, but not dangerously so, and all folk may get what they need at depots set up here and there around the city. The black rock, Coal, is readily obtainable, but many hearths cannot burn it, and the smoke is more poisonous than wood smoke. No smoke hangs over the city, though, because the cold North wind blows everything away out to sea. Now and again there is a flurry of snow, little dry flakes like white sawdust. Still, I like it, the high, pale blue sky, the sun bright but not warm. I am not cold, of course, I live in the King's palace and we have lovely fires and hot water and plenty to eat and drink. Not all folk are so comfortable, I know, but these matters are out of my hands. We can walk out every day for exercise, and we come back with red cheeks and with breath frost on our scarves. Lady Iorlas sent over the fur cloak that she gave me, and with it on I don't really even feel the wind. The brown fur shimmers in the winter sunlight and the wind ruffles it but cannot penetrate. We walk to the stables where the horses are taken out for exercise with blankets on, their breaths steaming as they are trotted about the ring. Prince Darius almost always exercises Shathur himself, but the poor young man feels the cold much more than the rest of us. After he has trotted around with his horse he warms up, but he gets chilled coming back to the palace. Today the King sent his valet to search through old cupboards and chests to see if he can find something warmer for Darius to wear. There is not a fur cloak or vest to be had in the city, thanks to the cold.
We are still dancing and still practicing songs. Master Argeleb has us writing the invitations and place cards for the feast, which is more interesting than copying old poems. As well, each guest will be given a sheet with the words to several songs, and this will be a lovely souvenir, we are doing each one individually and each one is decorated a bit differently, with gilt edges and Capitals. I always enjoy this, because it is something I am good at, making nice characters and drawing little pictures. Several times Turin has brought me some of his dreadful poetry to write out for him and I hate to do it, because it is doing him no good, Amanda does not love him and I don't think she ever will. It is no joke now, for either of them, and I wish he would let it be. Amanda immediately tumbled head over heels in love with Legolas, a passion she knows herself cannot lead anywhere. It's just that he's so beautiful, she says, and I know what she means. Not that I'm in love with him, for I'm not, but I can see why she is.
Mistress Mardilain and the Queen have been struggling with seating plans and precedence, and Sir Ecthelion has had to be brought in. The really great ones, like Legolas and Gimli and Prince Faramir will not care about such things, but the lesser nobility takes these matters with deadly seriousness. Duke Askelon presents another problem, and to a lesser extent, so does Prince Darius. There are many in the city who still regard the Haradrim with loathing, remembering their alliance with the Enemy. The King refuses to defer to these people, he has worked for his whole reign to bring all old enemies into the fold of friendship, and his belief is that if he can put the past aside, so ought his folk. Duke Askelon, particularly, was not really the enemy of Gondor, he spent the war in prison, as did King Darius and his wives. Their kinsman Castimir was King and he was slain on the Pelennor by King Theoden of Rohan. It will be interesting to see if anyone stays away because they will not sit at table with Duke Askelon or Prince Darius. I have my doubts.
The King and his guests are house bound with the rest of us, but they have been amusing themselves with fencing and such, and the board game that Duke Askelon brought, which is called Chess. The King, especially, has taken to this Chess game and according to the Duke, he is a natural adept. It is played on a board like a Draughts board, but the pieces are Knights and soldiers and Pawns and so forth. Duke Askelon is a Master, but he says that the King is already giving him pause and making him rethink some old strategies. The young Gentlemen are in fine fettle, they are spending much more time than usual with the King, and with his guests. They have set up an archery butt in a long passageway down cellar, and even we Maidens have been giving to it a try. I had some experience in Edoras, but I guess I am never going to be very good at it. They have given me a small bow, that a little boy would use, but truthfully it is not a skill I want very much. The Elf Legolas is so patient and careful, and the Gentlemen are unusually good mannered as they wait their turn for instruction, and of course most of them have been shooting since they were little children. Prince Darius is the least skillful, but he is tall and strong and is getting better. Gimli Gloin's son watches, but he says that his weapon was the Axe, and he is too old to learn to shoot. The men have these animated discussions about which weapon is best, and everyone has their opinion and everyone has to express it! It makes me very uncomfortable, this talk of weapons. All these devices have only one purpose, and that is to kill. King Elessar is working toward a kingdom and a world where no War will happen, yet he knows as we all do that War is a hard weed to get rid of. Still, they are having a good time, and it is not all play, we are still having our usual lessons, and we are still preparing for Yule.
We went for our walk this afternoon a little later than usual. We walked up to the ramparts and leaned on the wall, watching the sun fall into the far away Sea. The sky darkened slowly, becoming a clear, lucid blue that gradually became deeper and deeper, shading into the blackness of the night. The evening star appeared, one heartbeat it wasn't there, the next moment it was, and I thought of home and Mother and Father and all those there that I love. Another star appeared and another, and suddenly the whole sky was sable sprinkled with diamonds glittering. It was as if the wind brought them and swept them across the heavens. There was starlight enough that we could see the snow on Mt. Mindolluin behind us, starlight enough to cast a faint shadow. It was magical and no one spoke, no one broke the spell of beauty that held us.
We all could have stayed forever, but reality brings chilled feet, the wind that scattered the stars was freezing our faces, and we left the ramparts and ran, laughing, down to the palace. The footman opened the doors for us and we burst in, bringing the icy air and the sweet, fresh smell of winter that clung to our cloaks as we shrugged them off. We hit the common room and the tea tray and the sweetmeats like wolves in a sheepfold. The Gentlemen had to fight for their share. What can be pleasanter than to come in from the cold to a cozy fire and hot tea and laughter and friends?
