Without further ado...

(Legut�bbi t�rt�n�s: Jade elhagyta Imladrist Bilbo �s a t�rp�k t�rsas�g�ban. Elrond beh�vatja mag�hoz Nosmaethet.)

’Are you sending me away?’ I blurted out the question as soon as he shut the door behind his personal room/library. There were so many books in there, it was almost as huge as the actual library.

’Do you think I should?’

‘Elves could teach courses about the analytical psychology,’ I thought to myself. What was I even thinking, expecting an actual answer? But then – somehow – I ended up answering (understanding?) the honest truth.

‘I believe so, yes,’ I answered him quietly.

‘Why is that, Maeth?’ He sat down behind his desk and motioned for me to sit down in front of him. He folded his hands in his lap and his gaze was surprisingly calming. I completely forgot how afraid I was of him when we first met. He was the very summer itself; warm, wise and kind. He did not have the bad temper of the Noldor, I realized suddenly. He was a starchild, he had the light of Varda in him. Suddenly that gave me courage to speak, to tell something that I only realized there, but something that had been shaping and forming itself in my soul ever since I got admitted to the Valley.

‘A child is allowed to learn in safety, to grow and develop, to test the boundaries. But eventually there is a time when the certainty of home should be left and the real test of one’s character should come.’  I started softly, talking in metaphors as I was sometimes wont to, especially when I had to talk about myself. But then I stopped abruptly, wondering why this odd way of talking suddenly seemed bothersome. ‘What was different this time?’ I wondered to myself. What was it about this world that made me want to speak not only the truth… but the bare minimum of it, of things that I felt in my heart. I breathed in deeply, allowing the corners of my mouth to turn lightly up in a distant sort of smile. ‘I think I have grown in your Valley, my lord. I have grown in mind, in heart and body and I have become so much more than I would have, or could have, on my own. For that I feel blessed, privileged and forever grateful.’

He looked at me soundlessly and his gaze seemed sad for a moment, as if he saw something on my face that pained him. I could not make sense of his reaction and I dared not to ask.

‘Did you find the answer to your question then?’

I smiled a little because during the time I’d spent at Imladris I arrived upon question after question, and I had very few answers to give, probably even less than before.

‘No, I have not. As nobody is wont to. Do you know why you are here, my lord?’

‘I do, yes.’

He smiled that warm smile of his, crinkles formed around his silver eyes and for a second he looked more human than immortal. ‘For a while I have known. But not always.’

‘Well, I am very young, my lord. I think…. I believe I was wrong to seek answers in the first place. It was not the right time to do so. Now… Now I feel as if my task is to seek the questions that are worth answering.’

‘And how do you plan on doing that?’

I debated that answer, I wanted to seem all grown up, wise and mature, but finally a defeated grin spread on my face.

‘I have absolutely no idea, my lord. But in my experience – admittedly drawn mainly from books and stories and not from real life – whenever people need to develop and learn things they go on adventures.’

‘Well, I am afraid Middle Earth is not a place for adventures.’ He smiled gently, patiently. ‘There are peaceful realms, but danger lurks in every corner, and the servants of the Enemy keep a vigilant watch over the lands. It is a dangerous world, especially for someone of your kind.’

‘But as of yet, my lord, nobody knows what kind I am. Nobody knows the knowledge I hold.’

‘I did not mean your gift of foresight, Maeth. I meant that you are young, weak and inexperienced.'

“I knew he could be blunt if he wanted to”, I thought to myself bitterly. But the truth of his words did not injure my vanity as much as I thought it would. Because it was – essentially – The Truth. Like the kick of a horse or a fall from a tree, like nature itself; clear, understandable, sometimes cruel, but undeniably honest. And I could live with that.

‘But experience cannot be gained by sitting idly in your valley, my lord.’

‘Do you wish to travel Middle Earth, then?’

‘Yes, but… I wish I could be useful somehow. I am not… I am not used to being such a burden all the time. Here, I give trouble to everyone.’

‘Indeed?’ Now there certainly was a devious glint in his eyes and he wore a look that I was slightly terrified of. Not that it was menacing, but the serene Lord of Imladris having mischievous thoughts was still an alarming concept.

‘I have made my decision then. I am sending you away on a mission to deliver a message. You will be traveling with two companions; one who is in dire need of a serious lesson, and the other who needs a little careless joy in his life.’

‘May I ask who they are, and where are we to go?’ I asked, silently dreading the answer. The gift of foresight was apparently infectious, because Elrond answered me with a decidedly sardonic smile:

‘You are to travel to Mirkwood with Lind�r and Angborn.’

I suppressed a groan at the concept of traveling with Lind�r through days, and I nodded my consent ignoring the sinking feeling that took a hold of me at the mention of Mirkwood. However adamant I was of me needing to gain experience I was still scared of the world around me. Especially Mirkwood.

‘Very well, my lord.’

He nodded expectantly, so I added after a short hesitation:

‘When are we to leave?’

‘I week from today should suffice.’

‘Thank you my lord.’ I stood to leave and he stood up with me, but he had a strange smile on his face.

‘Is there something more?’ I asked cautiously.

‘You did not ask what your message is.’

‘Oh. My message? I thought I would be accompanying Lind�r and Angborn and they would bring the message.’

‘No-no, Maeth. Lind�r cannot be trusted, Angborn should not be.  You shall be my messenger.’

x.x.

Later that day I sat in the library again, with parchments scattered all around me. Occasionally I would flip pages dramatically and mutter Hungarian swearwords under my nose.

The parchment right in front of me was filled with small notes and suggestions, but somehow I could not get things right.

"Derived from the Germanic element kuni "clan, family" combined with gund "war".
-hos/hoth: folk
-kin, family: noss�
-fight, deal with: mahta-
warrior (mehtar/ohtar): swordsman: macar

DATIVUSSAL: - A csal�d�rt (to family) harcos/harcol� n�
Mehtar�noss�n, Macar�noss�n
The dative has the ending -n. This ending generally translates as the preposition "for" or "to"; the dative pronoun nin "for me" (from ni "I") is found in Nam�ri�: S� man i yulma nin enquantuva? "Who now will refill the cup for me?" Often the dative corresponds to an indirect object in English
POSESSIVE-ADJECTIVAL GENITIVE (er�teljes birtok/tulajdonviszony): -va,(-wa: ha m�ssalhangz�ra v�gz�dik a sz�).Macar�hoswa, Mehtar�hoswa/Ohtarehoswa, Mehtarenoss�va/Macarenosseva
GENITIVE (coming from... originally belonging to)
-macarenosseo, Mehtarenosseo, Mehtarehoso(??) szerintem itt kell egy double consonant, Macarehothwa
VAGY
-mordo "warrior, hero", but in later  Quenya mordo means "obscurity, shadow, stain, smear, dimness"
Mord�hos
(semmif�le ragoz�s csak mordo helyett mord�: female doer, �s hos: folk) v. Mord�noss�”

'And what do we have here?'

A musical voice answered my thousandth (slightly less musical) rendition of a particularly inventive Hungarian expression involving somebody's mother and... poultice. 'Well, good day to you too, Lind�r.'

'Something troubling you?' he asked, lifting my parchment to get a closer look. He was unusually quiet while he read it (or at least read those parts that he could understand), and he spoke uncharacteristically softly in the end. 'I never knew you had such an interest in Quenya.'

'I hadn't. Not for a long time.'

'And now?'

'My name roughly translates to your language as Nosmaeth, or if I am being honest it should be something like „nosme” or „nema”, since my name is already a nickname, a shortened  version of another name and only the consonants remained roughly the same, but... For some reason it seemed crucial that I translate this to Quenya. But all your wordlists and poems, and all the information your scribes had of the language seemed... insufficient somehow. And in the end all of these... all of these seemed wrong, sounded wrong in a way. Except Mord�noss�. Which is... not very flattering.' I rambled away, unaware how scattered my logic may have seemed to him.
'You do not like how they sound?' He asked, dubiously.
'I despise how they sound.'
'I do believe your preference shall not change a language, however, I am not an expert. But there are others here who have greater knowledge than I have, why will you not ask them?'
'Because... Glorfindel called me Alcarinqua. '
'I do not understand.'
'This… this is my name, Lind�r. I have to understand it. I have to… I have to translate it, I have to be the one to...'
'The doom lies in yourself, not in your name.'
Gildor never before had spoken with more gravity than now, appearing out of thin air. How and when he joined us, I could not tell, but his face was frighteningly serene and serious.
I stood up to greet him, but he waved me off. 'Do you know what this means?'
'Gwindor said this to T�rin in Nargothrond...' I blurted out instantly, because this one sentence had long been an interest of mine. But at the minute I spoke these words a sudden, overpowering realization hit me. 'You were there!' I whispered, shocked.
'I was.'
His words were heart-wrenchingly blunt; they had no depth and yet they were infinite; they were heralds of a final, unchallengeable truth. Like shedding stars, like sundown. Like death.
'How did you…?'
'Survive?'
'Yes...'
'Cowardice.'
I gulped nervously, unsure what to say. I have never heard anybody with this much ache in their voice.
'Do not pity me, child. You should have known; to be of the House of Finrod is to be cursed and exiled. ”Tears unnumbered ye shall shed...” You know this.' He was perhaps harsher than he intended to be.
'I... I hoped you were an exception.'
'For a while I hoped that too.'
'You have seen T�rin then.' It was a statement, but the tentative, questioning tone softened the edge.
'I have loved H�rin's son with all my heart, loved him like all did. I still do.'
'But... He caused your downfall... He...'
'He was haughty and proud and burdened beyond his power by a fate he had no means to control.'
'Like Maedhros.'
'Excuse me?' He stared at me with wide eyes and an almost frightened expression.
'I invested a good deal of time and effort into trying to understand the decisions of Nelyafinwe. I would always come to the conclusion that his spirit was too bright for him to handle. That he had no means to control his inherited fire. And he had no means to control the Doom.'
'Neither of us had. Only the Mariner.'
'I suppose so.'
'Maeth why would you have such interest in our dealings?'
'I... I don't know. I thought I could learn from you. You may be far greater than I am, in terms of means, power and wisdom. You may be familiar with vast infinites compared to my narrow perspective of life. Yet somehow, I felt that… that what you feel; pain, glory, love, devotion, pride, desperation… that of those, I have an understanding. And whilst reading of you… My understanding grew. I think we call it empathy. ‘I finished quietly.
‘I think you may not grasp the true depth of what you speak of,’ he answered me. I heard no anger or disdain in his voice. Again, it was a fact.
‘I know, I do not. But that should not stop me from searching those depths, should it?’
And if there was a challenge in my voice now, he certainly did not seem to mind, for he smiled kindly.
‘Indeed it should not. But be cautious, Mordenosse. Ours are dangerous depths. You may not find your way out.

I nodded, gulping nervously. T�rin was one of my favourite heroes because he was so… so unlikeable, so mortal, so narrow-sighted. He was completely unlike me, and I loved his story so much: his constant drive to do better, his constant failure to succeed. But debating this with someone who actually knew him, was tempting and frightening in equal measure. And his story, however fascinating it was… it still unsettled me deeply. Maybe it was not wise to invest myself into these stories to such a degree.

‘Before your linguistic interests diverted my attention, I was meaning to ask you, Maeth: are you prepared for our journey?’

I stared at Lind�r with wide eyes, fighting off a panic attack that threatened to triple my heart rate within mere seconds.

‘I am not. Absolutely not.’ I was hyperventilating. All that brave talk about needing to grow and develop on my own, how I needed to explore and experience the world… Well, it was great and empowering to talk of it… Less great and less empowering to actually do it. I was terrified to my bones.

‘I will help you prepare.’ Gildor smiled gently, placing a hand on my shoulders. ‘You are not as ill-equipped for adventures as you see yourself to be.’

I stared at him, mouth agape.

‘You have not exactly been praising my development in self-defence so far.’

‘Nosmaeth, you managed to convince us to bring you to Lord Elrond and you managed the road from Bree to Imladris… All on your own.’

‘But… it was not my own achievement, it was…’

‘It is your achievement to be humble where you have to be humble, to be gracious where you have to be gracious, to be honest and open where you have to be true, where not all would dare to be. You have no gift for fighting, that is truly and thoroughly confirmed indeed, but my heart tells me that you shall have the generous good will of good people, wherever this journey may take you.’

That queer blessing was all I had to warm my heart on the first days of our journey. The weather grew colder and colder by the minute, and as we left the valley behind all of us seemed quiet and anxious. It was not a merry departure, not a cheerful beginning of an adventure. Hith Aiglir had no love for travellers. And travellers had no love for the mountain.