May 27, 1437 SR:
Tomorrow is the day that King Eomer is to wed the Lady Lothiriel of Dol Amroth. We had a sort of rehearsal today, first thing after Breakfast, and I only hope the wedding itself will be so merry. Even Dari and Lari were there, cuddled up on the Queen’s lap, or handed around like posies, to be admired and kissed. It was almost like a party at home in the Shire, with the babies and the jokes and the lighthearted atmosphere.
I was sent for by Master Ronceval just after lunch. He and I have become great cronies, especially since we have been so busy transcribing the letters from his brother Captain Roland and from Legolas Greenleaf. When I got to the Archives, the King and all the Gentlemen of the Court and the royal visitors were there, even old Sir Ecthelion was there, and we did indeed have a wonder to exclaim over.
Telchar Smith and Master Ronceval have been working on a secret project for several weeks, and today we saw the fruit of their labour—a Printing Press. It is only what they are calling a Prototype, but it is truly an amazing machine. It works like any press, but it has Moveable Type, and after it was explained to me, I can see it is going to change a great many things. Instead of having to carve or etch the letters, a printer can set little individual letters in a special “bed”, and when enough copies of that particular thing have been printed, then the letters can be rearranged and used for something else. The letters are made of Lead, which is easily worked, and are quite plain, as it is easier to make plain letters than the elaborate characters we make with our Pens. The two men were as proud as can be of their Machine, and the King was very, very pleased. It has been decided that the first Book to be printed is to be the first letters from Legolas, suitably edited, maps and all. Master Ronceval said to the King that enough copies should be printed so that some can be sold—and I think he’s right. Books are so dreadfully expensive, and only well-off folk can have more than one or two, but Books made this way will not cost nearly as much.
The King was so impressed with what Master Ronceval and Telchar Smith have done that he Knighted them on the spot. He sent Sir Arahad for his Sword and when it was brought to him he asked Telchar and Master Ronceval to kneel, each in turn, while he touched their shoulders and said, I dub thee Sir Telchar, and then, I dub thee Sir Ronceval. They both Swore the oath of Knighthood right there, repeating the words after the King. We all had tears in our eyes, and the two new Knights most especially. This sort of thing was done long ago, generally on a Battlefield; in later years there has been a list of Honours and everyone on it knows ahead of time that they will be Knighted in a grand ceremony at the Palace. This was a momentous occasion, and all who were there were touched. It is these spontaneous gestures that so endear the King to all who serve him.
I thought of poor Anborn, who would have delighted in this, he who entertained us so often over the past long winter with his wooden Puzzles, pictures cut so carefully into tiny odd shaped pieces. Well, there is no use dwelling on sadness, but I have been feeling very low. Lothiriel and King Eomer are so happy, and the Queen with her babies, and I feel homesick and lonely. I have tried again lately to draw Draco’s face and have had to give up; he has become only a sweetly sad memory so soon.
Dinner this evening was a haphazard affair, as the Kitchen is much occupied with preparations for tomorrow’s wedding feast. After dinner I walked in the Park with Prince Darius and Baranor and some of the others, and it cheered me up, it was a lovely evening, mild as milk, the waning Moon very bright. Here in my room I have the Picture I have made of Mother and Father and the children, and I kissed it before I got into bed. The window is open and my curtains are billowing in the breeze, and my candle is guttering, so...good night!
May 28, 1437 SR: The day began with a terrific Thunderstorm; such as I have not seen since we were on the road last summer. The rain came down in sheets, pouring off the roofs in torrents so powerful they could have knocked me over if I had tried to stand under them. I am not afraid of Thunder and Lightning, but this storm must have caused some damage in the city, and to the new crops in the Pellenor. The storm passed and the Sun came out strong and hot, and the streets and the grass in the park and the roofs all steamed in the heat. By the time we sat down to Lunch, it was hard to believe that the storm had even happened. Except for one thing—Blackie the Queen’s dog (because that’s what everyone calls him now: The Queen’s Dog!) was still sitting on the front steps of the Palace and watching the Sky. I can’t believe he was actually doing what the Guards later said—he was barking and growling at the Thunder while the Storm lasted. Maybe he thought it was a threat to the Queen, who can say?
The Wedding was all a Wedding ought to be. Lothiriel was so Lovely that she shone like a Flame in the shadowy Great Hall, and King Eomer was resplendent in his Robes, looking like an Elf Lord from Elder Days. The procession of Bridesmaids and Groomsmen was very fine, and I quite enjoyed my first experience of being in a Wedding. The Prince Imrahil and Lady Aravilla both led Lothiriel to where King Eomer stood, and set her hand in his. He smiled at her with such a fire of Love in his eyes that I wondered she could meet his look, but she is equal to anything, and only smiled back. They spoke their Vows in firm, clear voices, so that all present could hear them, and when they had done with their Vows they kissed, then turned and faced the guests. Everyone applauded, and some of the Gentlemen whistled, and then we went in to the Wedding Feast.
There were Toasts and more Toasts, and much laughter and merriment. Master Targon led his Choir in singing some beautiful old Lays, and then the Musicians struck up a dance tune. King Eomer led Lothiriel out first, and again there was Applause, then the King and Queen stepped on to the floor, and Prince Faramir and Lady Eowyn, Prince Imrahil and the Lady Aravilla, and then us Maidens and Gentlemen. How I love to dance! Wouldn’t you know it I was dancing with Prince Darius, who happens to be the tallest of all the Gentlemen, and he and I laughed and laughed at how we must look, but still he is graceful and courteous, and made his steps suit mine. King Eomer danced with his sister, and with the Queen and with his new mother-in-law, and Lothiriel danced with the King and with Prince Faramir and last of all with her Father. They moved through the figures beautifully, but Prince Imrahil was fighting back his tears. He loves his lively daughter very much, and has said several times that his House in Dol Amroth is going to be very dull without her. They are already planning to go to Rohan next Fall, to spend the Winter there. Prince Imrahil has never been to Rohan, as it happens, and neither, of course, has the Lady Aravilla.
Sometime before Midnight King Eomer and his bride left the State Dining Room. I happened to be returning to the Table and saw them, hand in hand, stealing through the Musician’s gallery. This is the time-honoured way of newlyweds, to steal away alone without any fuss, and quite expected. The Queen saw me watching them, and put her soft hand over mine for a moment. Don’t worry, Elanor, she said, your turn will come.
It isn’t that I want to get married right now. I’m too young, for one thing. But I felt such a pang of loneliness, watching them leave together, and even if I wanted to get married, who would I choose? I am the only Hobbit I know of here in Minas Tirith.
