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Fic: The Cats of Hithlum Ariannon (OC)/Fingolfin, Erestor, Fingon Rating: PG
Title: The Cats of Hithlum
Story Arc: The First Age Tales
Author: phyncke
Characters: Fingolfin/Ariannon (OC), Erestor, Fingon
Beta: keiliss (all errors are mine)
Email: jhfink@sbcglobal.net
Rating: PG (slash implied)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: In this installment of the First Age tales from Fingolfin’s court, Ariannon and his friend solve a plaguing problem at the fort of Hithlum with a very clever solution.
The Cats of Hithlum
The king’s assistant, Ariannon, and Erestor, special assistant to the king’s son, sat lounging on a flat cropping of rocks, just up from the beach at Lake Mithrim. Occasionally when their duties permitted, they would walk down to the water front with a picnic and discuss the issues of the day in the kingdom and at court. There was usually some scintillating gossip making the rounds, or some matter from Council to discuss, if they were feeling ambitious. There tended to be something going on at Court and their conversations were lively and interesting.
“What a clever creature!” the darker haired elf exclaimed having finished his bite of apple. “Did you see that, Ari? She, if she is a she, trapped that animal at five paces. She is very quick!”
The huntress was now carrying the dead water rat in her mouth and languidly sauntered back to her lair and perhaps a brood of kittens hidden in the rocks. She was a Hithlum lake cat*, with a long coat, many shades of brown, dotted now and then with small patches of white. Her whiskers twitched in the breeze off the water and she had a lazy intelligence that belied her stealth.
/---/
Fingolfin sat in chambers and wondered where his arandur had disappeared to. His son was nowhere to be found either, and he had to sit here and listen to this long-winded complaint from the chef about rats, mice and other pests in the kitchens of the fortress. He nodded in apparent concern whilst continuing to daydream about other matters altogether.
“Sire, this is not to be countenanced. We hear scurrying in the walls and they get at the grains, eating holes in the bags and infesting our supplies with any number of diseases. This CANNOT continue!”
The king sighed and supposed HE was the only one working this day.
“Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I will have my assistant, Ariannon, see to the matter and examine the problem. We will come up with a solution as soon as we can.”
He wondered if this was another of Morgoth’s tricks designed to test his resolve in Middle Earth. Must be. Rats from Angband, disgusting, big-toothed, red-eyed rats of ill intent. Fingolfin looked thoughtful and dismissed the chef from his presence. He would tell his lover of his new assignment this very night.
/---/
“I don’t want to investigate rats in the kitchen, “ Ariannon said softly.
“It is not always a matter of what we want to do, but what we need to do. They are contaminating the food supply and annoying the chef. We cannot have that.” He did not voice his concern about Morgoth as that might not be exactly true.
Fingolfin would not allow any adjustment to the plan and had that set, stubborn look to his grey eyes.
“I will need help.”
“Fine. I will permit this. How about that Erestor person? He is smart, hmm?”
Ariannon’s brow relaxed a little bit at that suggestion and he turned toward the king in the bed they shared each night in secret.
“He is very smart.”
“Good then, he will do. Now is making love totally out of the question?”
Fingolfin ran his hand along a well-muscled arm and lightly teased. The hopeful look on his face warmed Ariannon’s mood somewhat. The king wondered if he had pushed Ariannon so far that he did not desire his attentions this night.
“Not out of the question, no,” the younger elf murmured, slightly mesmerized by the look in his lover’s eyes. They both leaned forward for a sweet kiss which soon turned more intensely passionate.
Neither noticed the scurrying sounds from the corner and the drapes which moved as rodents passed under the material. They were otherwise distracted and unaware that the infestation had spread to most of the fortress.
/---/
Erestor was very thorough in his assessment of the situation in the kitchens. Ariannon documented it all as they examined the evidence systematically.
“There are droppings in the corner there. See there, Ari?”
The special assistant was leaning down and examining a small pile of rat dung. Not the most glorious of duties but essential to the management of Hithlum and by order of the king himself.
“Rat poop?”
“Rat poop,” Erestor confirmed.
They looked at each other with barely disguised mirth.
The cook, however, was NOT amused and said irritably, “You will find more of that in the store rooms and in our food supplies. How would it be if that ended up in King Fingolfin’s soup or Lord Fingon’s biscuits!? Poop indeed.”
The elf turned slightly red as he spoke and his voice got louder with his agitation. The two assistants stopped their joking and adopted a more serious air.
Ariannon answered, “That would not be good at all, and we will prevent that from happening.”
The two young elves went from room to room, investigating the storage, the prep area and dining hall. They assessed the problem and so concluded that the best course of action was to lay a system of traps. These devices would present the enticement of a morsel of food and once the contraption triggered, the door would spring closed, enclosing the vile rodent inside. Ariannon sketched out a rough design to be constructed by the master builder in his workshop.
As the king’s assistant drew a schematic, Erestor looked over his shoulder, murmuring with approval, making occasional suggestions on the design. There was evidence of a few rats so they would order five of the traps made and see what happened.
“Do you think it will work?”
“It had better.”
“Right.”
/---/
“And why isn’t your plan working, Aira?”
“These rodents appear smarter than we anticipated and in larger number than we thought.”
“Hmm.” The king looked pained and rubbed his forehead. This all seemed to confirm his private suspicions that the pests had origins in a greater, more malevolent evil.
“Have you trapped any?”
“One,” Ariannon admitted, sulking slightly.
“That is not many or barely any, actually. One is just one really.”
Erestor had not come to the meeting with the king, held in a formal salon. Lord Fingon’s special assistant had left the fortress to “go see something” and would return later in the evening. Ariannon felt completely abandoned by his friend, left to face this situation alone.
King Fingolfin paused to think and then spoke gently.
“You will have to start from the beginning again. It was a good plan, but now you know more. We are getting complaints of the pests from all over the fortress.” It seemed confirmation of his suspicions about Morgoth being behind it all.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good then. Thank you and I am sure you will figure this out. I have every confidence in your abilities.”
His next appointment was at the door and so he nodded to his lover, giving no hint at their real relationship.
“I will report to you in a few days, my king.” Ariannon bowed, leaving the chamber as one of Fingolfin’s counselors entered the room for an audience.
/---/
That evening, Ariannon paid a visit to Erestor in his private quarters and noticed a not-so-normal hesitancy when his friend answered the door. The reason was all too clear when he got a look at the other elf’s face.
“What happened to you!?"
“Ohhh…”
Erestor’s normally handsome, elegant features were marred by long scratches over his high cheekbones.
“Don’t tell me a rat did that!”
“No, no. Not at all. Come in, Ari. I was down by the lake.”
As he entered Erestor’s normally tidy chambers, he noticed the sitting room table was littered with healing supplies and the like.
“Erestor, what is going on here?” Pushing his auburn hair back from his face, Ariannon slumped into a straight wooden chair and waived a hand over the evidence shown.
“I went down by the lake to investigate…an idea I had for our little problem - well, our big problem - and thought…I would try and capture one of the lake animals to bring to the castle. You know, the one we saw hunting river rats?”
“And she got you.”
“She got me.”
Erestor winced as he applied a cloth to his wounded face.
“I tried to pick her up and spoke to her in a very soothing voice but she is a vicious creature. I think she is just the kind of animal to go after these rats that we have. She will hunt them all quite efficiently.”
Ariannon sat up with a sudden idea.
‘She has babies, too. I am sure she was carrying food to her little ones there. We should capture the lot of them and bring them to the fort. It would be a shame to separate them.”
“We should get the father too, for that matter. We have so many rats we could feed the whole damn family of hunters.”
“That is true!”
The two elves laughed together and then calculated their plan for the capture of the felines by the lake. It would be done in such a way that no one would be hurt and the predators would end up enclosed together in a cage to be transported back to Mithrim proper. Erestor and Ariannon determined a step by step approach to the problem that was bound to succeed.
/---/
“She is hissing at me, how curious.” Erestor stood next to the wood-wheeled wagon, looking in with some satisfaction at the trapped animals. They now were the possessors of seven lake cats: five kittens and two adults, a male and a female. The gender of the young ones was impossible to determine and neither elf could get close enough to examine them, given the attentiveness of the parents. The low, throaty growl from the cat they now considered the female raised hairs on Ariannon’s neck. This rumble was usually accompanied by a very angry look and punctuated with a lunge, claws extended.
They were not going to get close to the little ones any time soon. Best to leave them alone and transport them back to the castle.
/---/
“Those two have been up to something. Thick as thieves.”
Fingon and Fingolfin liked to take a stroll on the battlements at the end of the day and discuss pressing concerns, skirmishes, and whatnot. They would stroll until the sun set over the lake and enjoy each other’s company. Tonight was interesting as they paused at the wall directly over the front gate and saw the two elves returning from the lake in a wagon full of howling animals.
“What do you think they have there?” Fingolfin looked somewhat concerned as he leaned out to see the wagon disappear inside. He stood up and looked at his son perplexed.
“They have wheeled something inside the gate of the fort.”
Fingon grinned at his father, “Let’s find out what it is, shall we?”
/---/
Moments later, king and son were down at the interior courtyard, looking at the deserted wagon which held the upset animals. There was no sight of Ariannon or Erestor.
“What in Angband do they have here?” Fingon circled the vehicle, peering in at the irate feline, her mate and brood of kittens, contained in a wooden cage for the moment.
“I have no idea but they are interesting,” Fingolfin moved closer, to get a better look. “They are quite beautiful, as a matter of fact. Look at their pelts and the markings on their fur.”
“Father, don’t get too…”
“Blast! She scratched me!”
The king jumped back. He had wanted to touch the fur to see how soft it was and when he tried to, had been swiped by very sharp claws. These animals knew no rank or title.
Erestor and Ariannon came back with three other elves and were surprised to see the two royal personages there.
“King Fingolfin!”
“Ariannon, you have some explaining to do and I have been maimed. What in blazes is going on here?”
/---/
Signs were posted by order of the king in all public areas of the castle and read as follows:
Predator animals have been introduced to the area to combat the rodent problem.
Do not attempt to pet or pick up these hunting animals.
The King is not responsible for those injured who pet or pick up the animals.
Use your best judgment.
*Royal Wax and Seal of King Fingolfin*
/---/
Ariannon lined half of a sawed off crate with old linens from the chamber maid and then the other half of that same box with straw. He did not know which they would prefer but thought that both might work for the newly relocated family of cats. The cage had been placed in the food storage room and opened, but they had not come out yet. All the felines stayed safely within, staring around them calmly or apparently so.
Erestor said, “I think we should leave them and let them go about their business though they will need water and a place to eliminate. They are not going to use the privy.”
“Hmm…I did not see any waste in their area there so I am assuming that they do so away from where they live or they would bury it. What do you suggest?”
Fingon’s aide folded his arms, his usual position for thinking and paused to consider this problem. They had not really thought this through. It was a complicated matter to domesticate wild animals like this and keep them in the castle.
The female had moved closer to the entrance of the cage and was sniffing the air, testing to see if it was safe to explore past its boundary.
Ariannon crouched in the middle of the room and murmured, “Come here, pretty girl. You can come out now.”
She hissed and retreated back to the interior.
“Nasty creature,” Erestor commented.
/---/
And so began a battle of Hithlum fortress that is not recorded in any of the elvish histories of note. You might find this footnoted in some well worn journals that did not survive through the ages. It is well remembered by some for its fury and intensity, and the carnage was quite gruesome.
“I think the rats are winning,” Ariannon said from his desk. Fingolfin was drafting a speech for the annual Spring festival and was interrupted in mid-thought. “They are more numerous than the cats.” He chewed on his thumb, a long standing nervous habit.
“Give it time, Aira. I have no doubt that our felines will control this menace.” The king smiled and had the feeling the very presence of the predators would eventually drive the rats away, though they would never be without rodents entirely.
Some months later, the kittens had grown to full size. It was thought best to separate them from their parents. They placed them in pairs in different areas of the fortress, and the felines roamed in a wide territory as they had in the wild, hunting and stalking the rats of Hithlum.
Fingolfin insisted that there be a pair of cats on the residential floor as he had been disturbed to wake up in the middle of the night to sit up and see a very large rat standing on his wooden trunk across the room. Its red eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and this convinced the king that in point of fact these rats were minions of the enemy. They were spying on him in his very bedchamber as he slept!
/---/
By order of the king, a set of pillows were set out in his sitting room for the felines along with water dishes. They were also given daily tidbits and meaty snacks from the kitchen so that rodents were not their only diet. Fingolfin felt sure that they had a more varied diet than such vile creatures in the wild and that they could not subsist on rat meat alone. Their coats were so sleek and fine that they had to have something more wholesome to eat.
At night, while the king might work on his papers in front of the fire, the hunters would relax on their ideally situated beds. They would groom each other lazily while at other times just lay and watch the flames dance in the hearth. They seemed to like the warmth of it and were mesmerized by the movement of the flickering fire. Once Fingolfin and Ariannon retired for the night, the cats would disappear from the chamber, apparently on their appointed rounds for the night.
/---/
One evening, Fingolfin observed the cats while drinking wine with Ariannon and suggested, “These animals need names, Aira. We cannot just call them creatures or things. They are providing us with an essential service here in the castle and any good soldier has a proper name.” He looked thoughtfully at the felines in repose.
His lover agreed. “That is true, sire. What would you suggest?” Experience had taught him that when the king was thinking out loud, he should aid him by asking questions.
“Hmm…let me see. Something to do with their hunting prowess perhaps?”
“That is logical, yes sire.” There were servants about, so Ariannon addressed him formally.
“Our female shall be… Raimë Mëoi for her skill at the hunt.” Fingolfin looked pleased with this.
“And the other?” Ariannon queried.
Fingolfin was silent in thought but his eyes took in the shining and exquisite pelt of the animal, many different shades of brown and so luxurious.
“His fur is exceptionally fine and beautiful. What do you think of…Linda Helet?”
The arandur nodded in agreement. “A fitting name, my king, very apt.”
The king took a sip of his wine and winked at his lover.
/---/
A year after the initial complaint, King Fingolfin asked the chef to report to him on the state of the kitchens and the rodent population there. Were they still an issue? Was the food supply still being contaminated? And had the cats solved some of this problem. The king wanted to follow up on the issue as a good monarch should. This might determine the fates of the felines within the fortress walls.
“Why yes, sire. While the rodents are not entirely gone, there are less of them and none in the food supply. The cats are keeping them at bay. I am happy to report that we have a new litter of kittens and will have even more hunters in a few short months.”
“I am happy to hear this. Carry on.” Fingolfin dismissed him and turned to congratulate Erestor and Ariannon standing near to hear the chef’s accounting.
“I supposed you two are quite proud of yourselves for your cunning and ingenuity when really we have the cats to thank for this.”
The two young elves looked at their feet, disappointed.
“But I do also thank you Erestor, for your cleverness in thinking of the solution and you, Ariannon, for the wisdom in seeing the merits of the plan. Well done, both of you.”
They grinned at each other, pleased with the king’s praise.
At that very moment, a sleek feline pounced from behind the throne, trapping the king’s booted toe. Fingolfin had been absent mindedly tapping his foot as he usually did when sitting for any length of time taking audience.
“And I thank you, Mëoi, for making my day very entertaining, as always.”
The End
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
• like the Maine coon cat as pictured here: http://www.lostcoastmc.com/mattole1.jpg
• arandur=steward of the king (quenya)
• Raimë=hunting (quenya)
• Mëoi=cat (quenya)
• Linda=beautiful (quenya)
• Helet=fur (quenya)
Story Arc: The First Age Tales
Author: phyncke
Characters: Fingolfin/Ariannon (OC), Erestor, Fingon
Beta: keiliss (all errors are mine)
Email: jhfink@sbcglobal.net
Rating: PG (slash implied)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours I hope.
Summary: In this installment of the First Age tales from Fingolfin’s court, Ariannon and his friend solve a plaguing problem at the fort of Hithlum with a very clever solution.
The king’s assistant, Ariannon, and Erestor, special assistant to the king’s son, sat lounging on a flat cropping of rocks, just up from the beach at Lake Mithrim. Occasionally when their duties permitted, they would walk down to the water front with a picnic and discuss the issues of the day in the kingdom and at court. There was usually some scintillating gossip making the rounds, or some matter from Council to discuss, if they were feeling ambitious. There tended to be something going on at Court and their conversations were lively and interesting.
“What a clever creature!” the darker haired elf exclaimed having finished his bite of apple. “Did you see that, Ari? She, if she is a she, trapped that animal at five paces. She is very quick!”
The huntress was now carrying the dead water rat in her mouth and languidly sauntered back to her lair and perhaps a brood of kittens hidden in the rocks. She was a Hithlum lake cat*, with a long coat, many shades of brown, dotted now and then with small patches of white. Her whiskers twitched in the breeze off the water and she had a lazy intelligence that belied her stealth.
Fingolfin sat in chambers and wondered where his arandur had disappeared to. His son was nowhere to be found either, and he had to sit here and listen to this long-winded complaint from the chef about rats, mice and other pests in the kitchens of the fortress. He nodded in apparent concern whilst continuing to daydream about other matters altogether.
“Sire, this is not to be countenanced. We hear scurrying in the walls and they get at the grains, eating holes in the bags and infesting our supplies with any number of diseases. This CANNOT continue!”
The king sighed and supposed HE was the only one working this day.
“Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I will have my assistant, Ariannon, see to the matter and examine the problem. We will come up with a solution as soon as we can.”
He wondered if this was another of Morgoth’s tricks designed to test his resolve in Middle Earth. Must be. Rats from Angband, disgusting, big-toothed, red-eyed rats of ill intent. Fingolfin looked thoughtful and dismissed the chef from his presence. He would tell his lover of his new assignment this very night.
“I don’t want to investigate rats in the kitchen, “ Ariannon said softly.
“It is not always a matter of what we want to do, but what we need to do. They are contaminating the food supply and annoying the chef. We cannot have that.” He did not voice his concern about Morgoth as that might not be exactly true.
Fingolfin would not allow any adjustment to the plan and had that set, stubborn look to his grey eyes.
“I will need help.”
“Fine. I will permit this. How about that Erestor person? He is smart, hmm?”
Ariannon’s brow relaxed a little bit at that suggestion and he turned toward the king in the bed they shared each night in secret.
“He is very smart.”
“Good then, he will do. Now is making love totally out of the question?”
Fingolfin ran his hand along a well-muscled arm and lightly teased. The hopeful look on his face warmed Ariannon’s mood somewhat. The king wondered if he had pushed Ariannon so far that he did not desire his attentions this night.
“Not out of the question, no,” the younger elf murmured, slightly mesmerized by the look in his lover’s eyes. They both leaned forward for a sweet kiss which soon turned more intensely passionate.
Neither noticed the scurrying sounds from the corner and the drapes which moved as rodents passed under the material. They were otherwise distracted and unaware that the infestation had spread to most of the fortress.
Erestor was very thorough in his assessment of the situation in the kitchens. Ariannon documented it all as they examined the evidence systematically.
“There are droppings in the corner there. See there, Ari?”
The special assistant was leaning down and examining a small pile of rat dung. Not the most glorious of duties but essential to the management of Hithlum and by order of the king himself.
“Rat poop?”
“Rat poop,” Erestor confirmed.
They looked at each other with barely disguised mirth.
The cook, however, was NOT amused and said irritably, “You will find more of that in the store rooms and in our food supplies. How would it be if that ended up in King Fingolfin’s soup or Lord Fingon’s biscuits!? Poop indeed.”
The elf turned slightly red as he spoke and his voice got louder with his agitation. The two assistants stopped their joking and adopted a more serious air.
Ariannon answered, “That would not be good at all, and we will prevent that from happening.”
The two young elves went from room to room, investigating the storage, the prep area and dining hall. They assessed the problem and so concluded that the best course of action was to lay a system of traps. These devices would present the enticement of a morsel of food and once the contraption triggered, the door would spring closed, enclosing the vile rodent inside. Ariannon sketched out a rough design to be constructed by the master builder in his workshop.
As the king’s assistant drew a schematic, Erestor looked over his shoulder, murmuring with approval, making occasional suggestions on the design. There was evidence of a few rats so they would order five of the traps made and see what happened.
“Do you think it will work?”
“It had better.”
“Right.”
“And why isn’t your plan working, Aira?”
“These rodents appear smarter than we anticipated and in larger number than we thought.”
“Hmm.” The king looked pained and rubbed his forehead. This all seemed to confirm his private suspicions that the pests had origins in a greater, more malevolent evil.
“Have you trapped any?”
“One,” Ariannon admitted, sulking slightly.
“That is not many or barely any, actually. One is just one really.”
Erestor had not come to the meeting with the king, held in a formal salon. Lord Fingon’s special assistant had left the fortress to “go see something” and would return later in the evening. Ariannon felt completely abandoned by his friend, left to face this situation alone.
King Fingolfin paused to think and then spoke gently.
“You will have to start from the beginning again. It was a good plan, but now you know more. We are getting complaints of the pests from all over the fortress.” It seemed confirmation of his suspicions about Morgoth being behind it all.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good then. Thank you and I am sure you will figure this out. I have every confidence in your abilities.”
His next appointment was at the door and so he nodded to his lover, giving no hint at their real relationship.
“I will report to you in a few days, my king.” Ariannon bowed, leaving the chamber as one of Fingolfin’s counselors entered the room for an audience.
That evening, Ariannon paid a visit to Erestor in his private quarters and noticed a not-so-normal hesitancy when his friend answered the door. The reason was all too clear when he got a look at the other elf’s face.
“What happened to you!?"
“Ohhh…”
Erestor’s normally handsome, elegant features were marred by long scratches over his high cheekbones.
“Don’t tell me a rat did that!”
“No, no. Not at all. Come in, Ari. I was down by the lake.”
As he entered Erestor’s normally tidy chambers, he noticed the sitting room table was littered with healing supplies and the like.
“Erestor, what is going on here?” Pushing his auburn hair back from his face, Ariannon slumped into a straight wooden chair and waived a hand over the evidence shown.
“I went down by the lake to investigate…an idea I had for our little problem - well, our big problem - and thought…I would try and capture one of the lake animals to bring to the castle. You know, the one we saw hunting river rats?”
“And she got you.”
“She got me.”
Erestor winced as he applied a cloth to his wounded face.
“I tried to pick her up and spoke to her in a very soothing voice but she is a vicious creature. I think she is just the kind of animal to go after these rats that we have. She will hunt them all quite efficiently.”
Ariannon sat up with a sudden idea.
‘She has babies, too. I am sure she was carrying food to her little ones there. We should capture the lot of them and bring them to the fort. It would be a shame to separate them.”
“We should get the father too, for that matter. We have so many rats we could feed the whole damn family of hunters.”
“That is true!”
The two elves laughed together and then calculated their plan for the capture of the felines by the lake. It would be done in such a way that no one would be hurt and the predators would end up enclosed together in a cage to be transported back to Mithrim proper. Erestor and Ariannon determined a step by step approach to the problem that was bound to succeed.
“She is hissing at me, how curious.” Erestor stood next to the wood-wheeled wagon, looking in with some satisfaction at the trapped animals. They now were the possessors of seven lake cats: five kittens and two adults, a male and a female. The gender of the young ones was impossible to determine and neither elf could get close enough to examine them, given the attentiveness of the parents. The low, throaty growl from the cat they now considered the female raised hairs on Ariannon’s neck. This rumble was usually accompanied by a very angry look and punctuated with a lunge, claws extended.
They were not going to get close to the little ones any time soon. Best to leave them alone and transport them back to the castle.
“Those two have been up to something. Thick as thieves.”
Fingon and Fingolfin liked to take a stroll on the battlements at the end of the day and discuss pressing concerns, skirmishes, and whatnot. They would stroll until the sun set over the lake and enjoy each other’s company. Tonight was interesting as they paused at the wall directly over the front gate and saw the two elves returning from the lake in a wagon full of howling animals.
“What do you think they have there?” Fingolfin looked somewhat concerned as he leaned out to see the wagon disappear inside. He stood up and looked at his son perplexed.
“They have wheeled something inside the gate of the fort.”
Fingon grinned at his father, “Let’s find out what it is, shall we?”
Moments later, king and son were down at the interior courtyard, looking at the deserted wagon which held the upset animals. There was no sight of Ariannon or Erestor.
“What in Angband do they have here?” Fingon circled the vehicle, peering in at the irate feline, her mate and brood of kittens, contained in a wooden cage for the moment.
“I have no idea but they are interesting,” Fingolfin moved closer, to get a better look. “They are quite beautiful, as a matter of fact. Look at their pelts and the markings on their fur.”
“Father, don’t get too…”
“Blast! She scratched me!”
The king jumped back. He had wanted to touch the fur to see how soft it was and when he tried to, had been swiped by very sharp claws. These animals knew no rank or title.
Erestor and Ariannon came back with three other elves and were surprised to see the two royal personages there.
“King Fingolfin!”
“Ariannon, you have some explaining to do and I have been maimed. What in blazes is going on here?”
Signs were posted by order of the king in all public areas of the castle and read as follows:
Predator animals have been introduced to the area to combat the rodent problem.
Do not attempt to pet or pick up these hunting animals.
The King is not responsible for those injured who pet or pick up the animals.
Use your best judgment.
*Royal Wax and Seal of King Fingolfin*
Ariannon lined half of a sawed off crate with old linens from the chamber maid and then the other half of that same box with straw. He did not know which they would prefer but thought that both might work for the newly relocated family of cats. The cage had been placed in the food storage room and opened, but they had not come out yet. All the felines stayed safely within, staring around them calmly or apparently so.
Erestor said, “I think we should leave them and let them go about their business though they will need water and a place to eliminate. They are not going to use the privy.”
“Hmm…I did not see any waste in their area there so I am assuming that they do so away from where they live or they would bury it. What do you suggest?”
Fingon’s aide folded his arms, his usual position for thinking and paused to consider this problem. They had not really thought this through. It was a complicated matter to domesticate wild animals like this and keep them in the castle.
The female had moved closer to the entrance of the cage and was sniffing the air, testing to see if it was safe to explore past its boundary.
Ariannon crouched in the middle of the room and murmured, “Come here, pretty girl. You can come out now.”
She hissed and retreated back to the interior.
“Nasty creature,” Erestor commented.
And so began a battle of Hithlum fortress that is not recorded in any of the elvish histories of note. You might find this footnoted in some well worn journals that did not survive through the ages. It is well remembered by some for its fury and intensity, and the carnage was quite gruesome.
“I think the rats are winning,” Ariannon said from his desk. Fingolfin was drafting a speech for the annual Spring festival and was interrupted in mid-thought. “They are more numerous than the cats.” He chewed on his thumb, a long standing nervous habit.
“Give it time, Aira. I have no doubt that our felines will control this menace.” The king smiled and had the feeling the very presence of the predators would eventually drive the rats away, though they would never be without rodents entirely.
Some months later, the kittens had grown to full size. It was thought best to separate them from their parents. They placed them in pairs in different areas of the fortress, and the felines roamed in a wide territory as they had in the wild, hunting and stalking the rats of Hithlum.
Fingolfin insisted that there be a pair of cats on the residential floor as he had been disturbed to wake up in the middle of the night to sit up and see a very large rat standing on his wooden trunk across the room. Its red eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and this convinced the king that in point of fact these rats were minions of the enemy. They were spying on him in his very bedchamber as he slept!
By order of the king, a set of pillows were set out in his sitting room for the felines along with water dishes. They were also given daily tidbits and meaty snacks from the kitchen so that rodents were not their only diet. Fingolfin felt sure that they had a more varied diet than such vile creatures in the wild and that they could not subsist on rat meat alone. Their coats were so sleek and fine that they had to have something more wholesome to eat.
At night, while the king might work on his papers in front of the fire, the hunters would relax on their ideally situated beds. They would groom each other lazily while at other times just lay and watch the flames dance in the hearth. They seemed to like the warmth of it and were mesmerized by the movement of the flickering fire. Once Fingolfin and Ariannon retired for the night, the cats would disappear from the chamber, apparently on their appointed rounds for the night.
One evening, Fingolfin observed the cats while drinking wine with Ariannon and suggested, “These animals need names, Aira. We cannot just call them creatures or things. They are providing us with an essential service here in the castle and any good soldier has a proper name.” He looked thoughtfully at the felines in repose.
His lover agreed. “That is true, sire. What would you suggest?” Experience had taught him that when the king was thinking out loud, he should aid him by asking questions.
“Hmm…let me see. Something to do with their hunting prowess perhaps?”
“That is logical, yes sire.” There were servants about, so Ariannon addressed him formally.
“Our female shall be… Raimë Mëoi for her skill at the hunt.” Fingolfin looked pleased with this.
“And the other?” Ariannon queried.
Fingolfin was silent in thought but his eyes took in the shining and exquisite pelt of the animal, many different shades of brown and so luxurious.
“His fur is exceptionally fine and beautiful. What do you think of…Linda Helet?”
The arandur nodded in agreement. “A fitting name, my king, very apt.”
The king took a sip of his wine and winked at his lover.
A year after the initial complaint, King Fingolfin asked the chef to report to him on the state of the kitchens and the rodent population there. Were they still an issue? Was the food supply still being contaminated? And had the cats solved some of this problem. The king wanted to follow up on the issue as a good monarch should. This might determine the fates of the felines within the fortress walls.
“Why yes, sire. While the rodents are not entirely gone, there are less of them and none in the food supply. The cats are keeping them at bay. I am happy to report that we have a new litter of kittens and will have even more hunters in a few short months.”
“I am happy to hear this. Carry on.” Fingolfin dismissed him and turned to congratulate Erestor and Ariannon standing near to hear the chef’s accounting.
“I supposed you two are quite proud of yourselves for your cunning and ingenuity when really we have the cats to thank for this.”
The two young elves looked at their feet, disappointed.
“But I do also thank you Erestor, for your cleverness in thinking of the solution and you, Ariannon, for the wisdom in seeing the merits of the plan. Well done, both of you.”
They grinned at each other, pleased with the king’s praise.
At that very moment, a sleek feline pounced from behind the throne, trapping the king’s booted toe. Fingolfin had been absent mindedly tapping his foot as he usually did when sitting for any length of time taking audience.
“And I thank you, Mëoi, for making my day very entertaining, as always.”
The End
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• like the Maine coon cat as pictured here: http://www.lostcoastmc.com/mattole1.jpg
• arandur=steward of the king (quenya)
• Raimë=hunting (quenya)
• Mëoi=cat (quenya)
• Linda=beautiful (quenya)
• Helet=fur (quenya)