"I must remind everyone in this room that whatever course of action is taken, nothing said here is to be spoken of in public." Ethel Applegarth always took every matter seriously, and one such as this was treated with additional caution. She waited for everyone in the room to give their nod of consent on the matter, before giving a nod to Forgamthan, who had offered to be the recording secretary.
"Let us begin with the questions on the minds of all," said Ethel as she sat down at the head of the table. Forgamthan was in a corner, listening and writing, but staying otherwise silent for the proceedings. On one side of the table, two Dwarves. One had traveled hastily from Moria, his beard still full of soot and dust, the other from Thorin's realm. The other side of the table hosted two Elves, lithe creatures with far-reaching depth in their eyes. One had only to step into the house to attend, while the other had come from the tundra of Forochel. Rune-keepers all, and besides them, a fifth member was seated on the other end, her garments the richest black, embroidered in threads of spun gold. There sat upon this loremaster's shoulder a fierce raven, whose head twitched from side to side now and then, as if he, too, were listening to the conversation.
"Is it true that Bainith of the Shire believes himself to be a hobbit?" This was issued forth by Samling, who appeared ready to ask from the moment he entered. All questions were directed to the dark-clad elleth.
She was leaned back slightly in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. "Is that such a bad thing?" Her raven cackled in approval.
"We are the ones asking the questions," snapped Samling tersely. "This council has given you advantage enough in the past! It is a feat indeed that you convinced us that a loremaster might properly train a rune-keeper, and your hobby of selecting strays instead of practiced youth from here in Rivendell has yet to be questioned. Now we must! This boy should never have been admitted to learn the art!"
"Hobbits cannot be rune-keepers," restated Narl simply.
Zhie cleared her throat and drew a pattern on the table with her finger. The Dwarves narrowed their eyes with caution, for despite the combined power of the others in the room, it was never a particularly good idea to anger a Kinslayer. "He likes to pretend he is a hobbit, but he knows he is an Elf."
"How can you be sure? We have the word of both Failloth and Indis that he told them he was a hobbit."
"You may also have taken note of his condition. Someone hit on the head that many times will say a great deal of misinformation." Zhie reached into a pocket and pulled out a handful of crumbs for her avian companion.
Ethel waited for Forgamthan to finish his frantic writing before she continued. "While his race will no doubt be a topic of debate, there is little doubt of his age."
Zhie's eyes flickered away momentarily before she focused again on the panel conducting the inquiry. "From my understanding, it is not his age, but his maturity, which is in question."
"They are one in the same," scoffed Samling. "Everyone knows an Elf does not reach their majority until they are fifty years of age."
"Bainith does not understand that, because he thinks he is a hobbit, and hobbits come of age at thirty and three," argued Zhie. "For one in the scholar's guild, you certainly fool me at times."
As Samling began to stand up and pounded his fist upon the table, Ress spread his wings outwards and made an irritated hissing noise. The crackle of Samling's rune-stones was audible as sparks sprung away from his hand, and Zhie, not to be outdone, reached over his back without rising, spun her staff to her side, and thrust it against the ground, causing items in the room to shake as a red light twisted down the wood. Ethel placed her hands upon the smooth surface of the table and stood up, which made Samling, grudgingly, sit down. "This is the precise problem. Your reasoning is flawed. If he is a hobbit who is of age, then he is not allowed to practice because he is a hobbit. If he is an Elf who is underage, he is not allowed to practice because he is not of age."
"And the menfolk who send their sons and daughters to train as loremasters when they are aged fourteen or younger, when they respect sixteen as the age of manhood and womanhood," said Zhie. "What of them? What of the boys I see in their armies, no older than twelve, carrying swords, being enlisted when they should be home playing soldiers? What of the girls, heavy with child at thirteen years or less, when they are still at an age to be nurtured, not married off? What of that?"
"Neither an Elf nor a Dwarf is so barbaric," muttered Narl. Sambling nodded his agreement, and Cerebthos looked about to defend Zhie's position in some way, but seemed to think better of it and diverted her gaze to a painting on the wall.
"Let us keep to the matter at hand, please," said Ethel. She now sat again, and Zhie sighed heavily and shook her head. "You have yet to present compelling evidence to this panel."
"Then let me use smaller words so that it will not confuse you. Bainith was raised by hobbits, and acts very much like a hobbit, though he wishes to know how to be an Elf. Because he was raised by hobbits, he believes that thirty-three is the right age to be considered an adult. He believes he is an adult, and he knows he is an Elf. Therefore, not a problem," finished Zhie.
"On the contrary," spoke Ciryalen, "there is an issue. If he wishes to learn to be an Elf, then the first thing he must learn is that he is still by all measures an Elfling. He should be allowed to seek an apprenticeship at a later date, but at this time, my vote is to rescind his apprenticeship."
"As is mine," declared Samling. "This boy should never have been allowed in!"
"This is outrageous! If he had not been hurt, and brought here, you would never have known his age," burst out Zhie, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her staff.
Celebthos picked nervously at the bits of skin around her nails, dry and cracked from the furious use of fire and lightning to train others. "The life of a rune-keeper is a dangerous one, Faerfaen. We do not always have companions to aid us," she said, her gaze gliding from the painting to the feathered warrior who blinked his beady eyes. "We are masters of elements, and beacons of healing and hope. It is not to punish him, but to preserve what few years of childhood he has left."
"Is there any childhood left in this forsaken world?" wondered Zhie as Narl crossed his arms and declared, "I shall vote with my brother-in-arms."
"It is unanimous, then," decreed Ethel. "Bainith's status will be changed from probationary to discharged."
"Go ahead. Change his status. I am still going to train him. Rune-keepers have no rights over loremasters," Zhie reminded them.
"Ah, but we do have rights over our own," Samling reminded her. "If you do not take his stones from him, then I will, and instead of a temporary reprieve they will be broken by my hand."
"And not only his," said Ciryalen. "You see to the training of a second apprentice, do you not?"
"Leave Culgondrian out of this," snapped Zhie.
"We will," said Narl. "All you have to do is take Bainith's rune-stones away from him."
