Narog 河畔的冬天

Disclaimer: The Silmarillion and its characters belong to the Tolkiens. No profit is made from this work. 

小标题来自#写手画手一切为了CP！CP！CP！问卷#的前五题

1.普通日常

[矮人语没考据过请不要在意> <]

“Please state the property change of chromium-nickel austenitic steel after molybdenum is mixed in.”

“Change in properties, Kurufin. Property change, by having two meanings, leads to confusion.” 

It was one of our Khuzdul practice sessions. I, being far removed from my old convenient location near the Blue Mountains, and he, favored by fewer and fewer guests as the roads grew more perilous, naturally became the most available speaking partners to each other. My brother denounced such meaningless activities: “when life could have been better spent on orc-hunting, defense upkeep, or simply sports”. Justifiably so, yet … I glanced at the two neat stacks of parchment in our hands.  

He immediately understood, and pulled out a piece of note. “Vestri of Belegost pointed out the same mistake of mine when he carved my bed-posts. Property change, in fact, more often refers to ...hmm, for example, the sale of a dwelling.”

I peered at the note, momentarily disoriented by his unique flowing style of Cirth. I must have heard ‘property change’ numerous times when the dwarves taught me the many ways to skim foam from molten iron, and the equally many ways to avoid such excruciating labor. Findárato had a better grasp than me on the slangs and grammatical nuances, but I was the proud expert on technical terms. 

“Change in properties, then, for the sheer sake of increasing the clumsiness of our language.” I said dryly. “Would you please make the statement? As a side note, the Sindarin-like lilt in your tone is quite exasperating.” 

Findárato seemed a jot disappointed to see his distraction did not work. He replaced the note, fetched a reference book on metallurgy from the nearby shelf, and began flipping back and forth between the text and the index. Finally, he found the paragraph and translated carefully. “The objective of adding molybdenum into austenitic steel is to improve resistance to corrosion, especially corrosion by chlorides and sulfur chemicals. The effect of molybdenum is, naturally, different on other types of steel.” Then he looked up. “My turn: would you please make a comparison between the emotional experience of a dwarf exiled from home with his wife, and that of a dwarf exiled with his father and grandfather?”

It was sheer retaliation. Where in the name of Niena can I find a reference on the traumatic psychology of dwarves? I answered quickly, forgetting to change a verbal form in the haste. It could not be helped.

“It depends on the situation. If the two dwarves, their wives, fathers, and grandfathers is exiled as two entities, there is no emotional difference. If not, I believe the first dwarf would be more surprised because female dwarves are not prone to leave their dwellings on any occasion.” 

“This is some sort of answer.” He remarked. “However, I would rather prefer you did not confuse one dwarf with eight. Would you please say that again and give me the correct form?” 

So we went on. 

2.无责任撒糖

“It is strange that,” said he, sprawling flat on his back, “surrounded by wild reeds, I should be reminded of how I lay in the wheat field of Yavanna. Wheat was so tall then.” 

Hazel-dark eyes gazed unblinkingly up. In them I saw dancing wisps of white clouds in a brilliant spectrum of sunlight. A summer breeze sent the whole field a-rustling; a ladybird buzzed past, and in its wake swirled the faint, content scents of a ripe harvest to come. 

“I am reminded of something different.” I let my gaze fall away from him. Around us, the reeds grew so dense that no sound could be heard, no movement seen from five yards away. We had found this spot earlier, stamped out and flattened the ground, and been effectively doing nothing since then. 

“Once, when I was little, I chanced upon my father’s palantíri-room. It was underground and completely dark – ‘shrouded’, as I later learned, for their preservation. But at that time I knew nothing. As soon as the door clicked shut, panic seized me. I stumbled and was dismayed by the sound of my own fall. I feared to shout for help. Though the door could not be more than a couple steps away, I dared not move, lest some evil be awakened and devour me.”

“Then you saw the palatír.” He spoke with a hint of amusement in the voice. “I did not know you came to know them under such unpleasant conditions.” 

I shrugged, and smiled back. It was a predictable tale, but true nonetheless. “It lit up slowly, having sensed the presence of an observer. Naturally I was drawn to it, and saw in its light the lands of Aman unfurling: my father at work, my brother riding, Aulë making, and Valmar…the images were soundless but constantly moving. Like clouds. So I sat there, entranced, unwilling to leave the quietness of a dark room till my mother found me.” 

He chuckled and spoke lightly. “You brother will not find us.” He placed a hand on my forearm. When our eyes met, I almost suspected he read my motive there, but if so, he made no comment. “Lie down. Do not be troubled.”

I raised an eyebrow. 

He shifted to lean above me. The winds ceased to be. In his eyes were the lingering specks of sunlight. Behind him unfurled the endless, unfathomable sky. Should I call him a palantír? But I already began to tug at his clothes. 

3.悲伤而绝望的时刻

Do not let it be said that a son of Feanor cannot appreciate beauty when it stands before him. 

He is dressed in plain woodmen’s clothes. Once the Nauglamír was taken off, it is no longer very easy to tell him from the crowd. There is no more earthly gold to bring out the sheen of his golden hair, or bewitched light to add to his fair features. Yet I see through the flesh and know the beauty of a soul that I once came close to join, a soul that is too noble to withhold his kingdom from treacherous hands. 

He told me before, that coming through the bitter ice, he had not forsaken pieces of the memory of the fair city. One by one, during the long, secluded nights of the winter of Nargothrond, he introduced them to me, hoping for eyes that could see their value, and ears that would hear his yearn. I looked, listened, and gave my craftsmen’s best judgment. He is now leaving them behind. I am glad that my words were but lukewarm water, said with half a heart.

I can leave beauty behind, too, being true to the words of my father, and doubt the need for more. Affection but embellishes life as circumstances allow it. When a greater purpose calls, oath and blood determine loyalty. So I do smile, while he leaves the halls without a glance back. Should I ask him now, as I had asked his people in hypocrisy, that what drives a king to forgo the care of his people in exchange for a man and a glorious promise? 

When he falls into dust, nails filled with dirt: his skin has been pierced before, and his fingernails surely remember, as I remember Alqualondë. These are not new to us. The means are unimportant to our doomed ends. 

Do not I know, in my heart of hearts, that how different we are, I and Findaráto? But by interpretation, I might say we are capable of making the same choice. Otherwise it is hard to foresee a future when our paths cross again. 

4.深井冰的时候

“Here, you’ve lost your knight. One knight accounts for three pieces of clothing.”

“It is about to be summer. Nobody wears more than one layer. After what I have taken off…”

“Put on more first, perhaps?” He suggested, and then shook his head. “Something other than your original, so the rules are kept.” 

I nodded, and looked around. His study was, in my critical opinion, woefully devoid of a wardrobe. My eyes at last settled on his silver-trimmed robe. “Lend me one, will you?”

“If you insist...” He muttered, starting to take it off his shoulder. “Anyway, why did we set up these ridiculous rules?”

Alas, it was likely my proposal, but I failed to count in his chess skills, nor could assert with certainty, we both being so very drunk.

5.色气的样子

“I see you have taken to hunting recently.” 

Coming back from the butchery, I unexpectedly found him at the gate. Two steps behind him walked Orodreth, followed by five more archers, all of them clad in leather and cloaked. Findaráto's hood was cast back. He looked ruffled but unscathed. My own tunic was stained with deer blood, though I had washed my hands in the river. 

“News came of an orcs band creeping down the banks of Narog. We went scouting and slew them.” He explained. “You missed the messenger yesterday.” 

“I set out too early. Or I would have accompanied you,” said I quietly, falling into steps with him. We entered the hall, where he dismissed his brother and the archers, and continued towards the inner chambers. Neither of us was surprised when his door closed behind us with a click. 

“I must bathe and change clothes.” I looked at eye level with him. “Unless you wish to do the same.” 

“In case you did not notice, this is my room.” 

“Then I assume you do wish the same.” 

He put on a toothy grin and slid both hands around my waist. One took off my belt in a fluid movement; the other grabbed the dagger – but I wrested it from him before he could get a firm hold and cut off the clasp of his cloak. Soundlessly it fell to the ground, revealing creamy white skin and a grey shirt. I stood back, momentarily enjoying the scene, and was about to toss away the dagger when he caught it and slashed open the front of my tunic. Cold air flushed in. I fell back against the door and laughed, wondering why we went through this game each time. 

Sometimes, I imagined seeing him naked and helpless, tied to his bed while I sent shudders down his spine and planted red kisses throughout the immaculate white skin. But as I shrugged off the now ruined clothes and began to undo the buttons of his shirt, I knew part of him would remain enigmatic to me, at least for a while.