In The Winter Garden, Chapter Five.
So -
Author still curiouswombat
Rating still 13
Fandoms still Lord of the Ring/Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
This chapter is 2,300 words.
Chapter Five
Elves had no problem with the idea of dreams that foretold, or informed, containing truths that were, in some way, ‘real’. Tindómë had had such dreams once or twice in the past - even her arrival in Middle Earth had hinged on her dream prior to the battle on the Hellmouth.
In some way, whether or not it was because she was The Key, the Winter Elfling’s memories had filled her dream. Rumil held her and listened as she told him what she had seen and felt…
“His Nana and Ada told him to stay in the trees, to wait for them, they wouldn’t be long. I don’t know where they went - but they were worried, I think. There was some enemy, perhaps, but he didn’t know, so I don’t.”
Rumil could understand that. He vaguely remembered his parents telling him and Orophin to hide in the trees and wait, when their village had been attacked, but his parents had never come back for them. Except that, of course, others had come for them; Haldir had come for them.
But, as Tindómë went on, it was clear that no-one had come back for the Winter Elfling.
“He ate what food they had left him, and then berries, whatever he could find. He was frightened to go far from the trees, where they’d left him, in case they came back and he wasn’t there.
“I think it was Firith* at first - the leaves had turned but not fallen - so there were plenty of berries but it got colder and colder.”
She shivered in his arms and couldn’t go on for a minute. He held her, touched his forehead to hers - now he, too, could feel the chill of winter.
“He… he slept in the fallen leaves… and then it snowed. He didn’t have anything left to eat… and they still didn’t come back. And then…” She took a deep breath. Rumil gently rubbed his hand against her back and wrapped his love around her like a blanket.
“And then… I think he died in his sleep. I don’t know if he just faded, or if he died of starvation, or the cold. But one night he fell asleep under the wet leaves and snow… and he woke up because someone was calling him. An ellon’s voice, but it wasn’t his adar, and so he hid. The ellon called him, and asked him to come to him, to come where it was warm and light…”
Tindómë was weeping now, tears rolling down her cheeks. Rumil kissed them away. It was not easy for her, but she must have been given these memories for a reason - and, although he would have happily have had these sad memories channelled through him to spare her any pain, Tindómë was The Key, and all he could do was let her share this with him.
“I think it was Lord Namo,” she said after a minute. “I am sure it was. He was calling the elfling’s fëa to him, but I don’t think the elfling realised he was dead, even though he could see the little mound that was his snow covered body.
“So he stayed where he was, and stayed as still as he could; the ellon came back a couple of times and called him but he always hid and wouldn’t go. Then the ellon didn’t come any more. And he doesn’t know when that was - it is still the same Rhîw* to him… but it must have been many yeni ago.”
And then as Rumil thought, again, that he would have walked that dream-path in her place, to save her the hurt, Tindómë reached a hand to his cheek and spoke again.
“I’m so sorry, my love, I know this must be painful for you; it must hurt to be reminded of what happened to you and Orophin when you were his age.”
“Meleth, oh my love, my tithen maethor, I wish that I could have walked this path for you to protect you from the pain - and you worry that your telling of it will hurt me…” He was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Instead he wiped her tears and kissed her.
Then, as sometimes happened with their minds open to each other, they both had the same thought.
‘What can we do with this knowledge? There must be some reason for us knowing what happened to this elfling so long ago… mustn’t there?’
“Although,” Tindómë added to their mental conversation, “perhaps it would have been kinder if Haldirin had not awakened him… if his fëa had been left asleep.”
……………………………………………..
*Firith - late autumn - the elves used six seasons rather than twelve months to divide the year.
Rhîw - winter.
Lord Namo - one of the Valar; he ‘calls’ the fëar of dead elves to Mandos Halls.
Tithen maethor - little warrior. The twin sons of Elrond gave Tindómë this name when she was still Dawn, recovering from her injuries in Minas Tirith.
……………………………………………..
There was little they could do immediately, they agreed, but surely there must be something that could be done rather than leave the elfling lost, forever, in winter.
In the meantime Éowyn had planned for them to spend the day, by the river, picnicking and generally being lazy.
Which is where Legolas found them.
He had stayed a little longer in Minas Tirith after the wedding of young Boromir and Princess Gilraen. Time spent with his fellow members of the Fellowship of the Ring was to be savoured, and the wedding had brought together all those still in Middle Earth.
But last night he had not felt able to sleep in his suite in the King’s House; he had climbed out of his window and sat in the tree that grew beside it, in Arwen’s garden. Back to the trunk, knees drawn up, he had gazed at the moon through the branches and slowly he drifted down dream paths and slept.
He had woken with a start and a sudden feeling that he should go to Tindómë; that his ‘small sister’ needed him. Apologising to Arwen and Aragorn he extended, again, an invitation to the visiting hobbits to accompany Gimli on a visit to Eryn Ithil, and rode to Ithilien saying, only, that he needed to be away from the heaviness of stone walls.
He let his horse move at his own pace and it did not take long to reach the home of the Prince and Princess of Ithilien. A servant told him that the Princess and her guests were picnicking beside the river, and he rode on, somewhat reassured. When he drew close enough to see the party on the riverbank he felt tension, which he had not even noticed, drain away.
Rumil was lying on his stomach at the edge of the river, Haldirin at his side, clearly showing the elfling how to guddle trout; successfully, if the small pile of fish on the bank was anything to go by. Éowyn and Tindómë sat on a blanket nearby; Tindómë had a pad of paper in her lap, and seemed to be drawing the scene in front of her. Whatever the reason he had felt drawn to seek her out, at least she did not appear to be in any danger or pain.
She looked up as he came within sight and he briefly saw, not only welcome, but relief flit across her face.
“Nethig…”
He swung down from his horse, and walked towards her, reaching a finger out to touch her cheek briefly.
“It is so good to see you, atheg,” she said.
As it was less than a fortnight since they had last seen each other, in Minas Tirith, he was even more sure that something was worrying her. He would, doubtless, find out soon enough.
Éowyn greeted him warmly and asked if he was on his way back to Eryn Ithil straight away or would he like to stay for a day or two? He glanced quickly at Tindómë - she wanted him to stay…
Legolas knew that Rumil was aware of him but the other ellon did not look around until he lifted another trout out and placed it on the bank.
Haldirin spoke first. “Legolas! Ada and me are catching trout and we are going to cook them for Nana and Lady Éowyn, to give the cook a rest.”
“Ada and I,” came Tindómë’s voice behind Legolas as he scooped up the elfling and held him, briefly, above his head.
Legolas watched Tindómë and Rumil interact as he cared for his horse. There was clearly no problem between the couple - whatever worried his ‘small sister’ it was not a problem between her and her husband. Not that he had expected any such thing.
Ah - Tindómë was coming to join him whilst Éowyn was speaking to Rumil.
“Is all well with you, nethig?” Legolas asked quietly.
“Yes… and no,” was the enigmatic reply.
“I felt, when I woke this morning, that you needed me…”
“We have… discovered something. No, nothing dangerous,” she went on - he must have looked worried.
“I mean we’ve not found out that Éowyn is plotting to overthrow Aragorn or anything…” she said, grinning briefly.
“Actually,” she went on, “as Éowyn doesn’t understand much Sindarin, especially Haldirin when he is babbling, just chat to him for a while… ask him what he’s been doing. Uh, even who he’s been playing with…”
It seemed an odd suggestion, but Legolas had learnt that it was often best to just do as Tindómë said.
Turning back to the others, Legolas asked “If we are eating your catch, Rumil, should Haldirin and I look for wood for a fire?”
There was a glance between Tindómë and her husband and then Rumil agreed that that would be a very good idea.
Soon Legolas was busy, with the elfling, collecting firewood. It was not what he would have expected to be doing today, if anyone had asked him yesterday in Minas Tirith, but the gentle mental caress of the trees was both soothing and very welcome.
He let Haldirin chatter but steered the conversation as Tindómë had suggested.
“He is very sad, my friend… I think it is because he can’t come out into the sunshine with me. But I like going to play in his garden when it is too hot…”
Legolas was a bit lost in the conversation. “Is this a mortal child from one of the servants’ families that you play with, little one?”
“No. My friend is an elfling, Legolas… he lives in the Winter Garden.”
As Legolas was certain there were no other elflings visiting the mortal settlement, he realised that this must be what was troubling Tindómë - but he did not really understand what was going on. He felt a most un-elflike impatience to know more.
………………………………………………………
Atheg - ‘something an elf might call his or her elder brother’.
Nethig - ‘something an elf might call his or her small sister.’
………………………………………………………
The fish, cooked over the fire and eaten with bread from the Manor House kitchens, was, Legolas thought, the best thing he had eaten since he left Eryn Ithil. Certainly a good deal simpler than anything eaten in the Citadel - but even the visiting hobbits would probably agreed that trout so fresh could not be surpassed.
Perhaps he should have stressed, especially to Sam, how good the fishing was, and the mushrooms, in Eryn Ithil… On the other hand, a few days to find out more about the mysterious elfling that was worrying Tindómë, before he became host to his friends, might well be useful.
They walked back together; Haldirin, riding on Legolas’ horse, happily declaring that he would have to tell his friend, tomorrow, how he had ridden all on his own.
It was approaching dusk before there was really time to talk to Rumil or Tindómë - and this was only achieved by Legolas telling Éowyn that he had left the city to get away from walls; he begged her indulgence, but he longed to spend time quietly outdoors.
It seemed only natural for the other ellon to join him in and head for one of the tree-lined walks. Soon they were sitting companionably in the broad arms of one of the older trees and Legolas listened, carefully, as Rumil told him about the encounters with the Winter Elfling.
“We have not told Éowyn,” Rumil finished, “as Tindómë says she is likely to be upset at the idea of a ‘ghost’ of any sort living so near to her house.”
“Tindómë is right,” Legolas said, with a wry smile, “the Rohirrim are superstitious, and Éowyn no less so than any other; remember ‘the grey shadow warriors’.”
The allusion, from the time when Éowyn had become acquainted with Tindómë, made Rumil also smile.
“At least,” he said slowly, “she no longer fears that we may steal her children…”
Both ellyn sat in silence for a little longer before Legolas spoke.
“It seems right that there should have been elves living here in Ithilien before the Enemy blighted everything. It was known to the mortals as a place of fair trees and flowers.”
In the pink-tinged grey light a moth took off from the trunk behind him. The ellyn watched its course into the night. Legolas stretched a leg along the bough where he sat, cocked his head to listen to the churring of a nightjar just lifting to the wing, and then continued the conversation.
“I am sure you are both right and the appearance of this small lost fëa, now, is related to The Key within Tindómë and Haldirin. I have spent time in the Winter Garden, without any mortals, more than once and he did not appear to me.”
The sun set. They listened to the sounds of the night. Perhaps half an hour passed before Legolas spoke again.
“And, now that this elfling has been awoken, what can we do? We cannot, in all conscience, leave him in an existence between life and death.”
…………………………………………………………………….
Chapter six is here.
Author still curiouswombat
Rating still 13
Fandoms still Lord of the Ring/Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
This chapter is 2,300 words.
Chapter Five
Elves had no problem with the idea of dreams that foretold, or informed, containing truths that were, in some way, ‘real’. Tindómë had had such dreams once or twice in the past - even her arrival in Middle Earth had hinged on her dream prior to the battle on the Hellmouth.
In some way, whether or not it was because she was The Key, the Winter Elfling’s memories had filled her dream. Rumil held her and listened as she told him what she had seen and felt…
“His Nana and Ada told him to stay in the trees, to wait for them, they wouldn’t be long. I don’t know where they went - but they were worried, I think. There was some enemy, perhaps, but he didn’t know, so I don’t.”
Rumil could understand that. He vaguely remembered his parents telling him and Orophin to hide in the trees and wait, when their village had been attacked, but his parents had never come back for them. Except that, of course, others had come for them; Haldir had come for them.
But, as Tindómë went on, it was clear that no-one had come back for the Winter Elfling.
“He ate what food they had left him, and then berries, whatever he could find. He was frightened to go far from the trees, where they’d left him, in case they came back and he wasn’t there.
“I think it was Firith* at first - the leaves had turned but not fallen - so there were plenty of berries but it got colder and colder.”
She shivered in his arms and couldn’t go on for a minute. He held her, touched his forehead to hers - now he, too, could feel the chill of winter.
“He… he slept in the fallen leaves… and then it snowed. He didn’t have anything left to eat… and they still didn’t come back. And then…” She took a deep breath. Rumil gently rubbed his hand against her back and wrapped his love around her like a blanket.
“And then… I think he died in his sleep. I don’t know if he just faded, or if he died of starvation, or the cold. But one night he fell asleep under the wet leaves and snow… and he woke up because someone was calling him. An ellon’s voice, but it wasn’t his adar, and so he hid. The ellon called him, and asked him to come to him, to come where it was warm and light…”
Tindómë was weeping now, tears rolling down her cheeks. Rumil kissed them away. It was not easy for her, but she must have been given these memories for a reason - and, although he would have happily have had these sad memories channelled through him to spare her any pain, Tindómë was The Key, and all he could do was let her share this with him.
“I think it was Lord Namo,” she said after a minute. “I am sure it was. He was calling the elfling’s fëa to him, but I don’t think the elfling realised he was dead, even though he could see the little mound that was his snow covered body.
“So he stayed where he was, and stayed as still as he could; the ellon came back a couple of times and called him but he always hid and wouldn’t go. Then the ellon didn’t come any more. And he doesn’t know when that was - it is still the same Rhîw* to him… but it must have been many yeni ago.”
And then as Rumil thought, again, that he would have walked that dream-path in her place, to save her the hurt, Tindómë reached a hand to his cheek and spoke again.
“I’m so sorry, my love, I know this must be painful for you; it must hurt to be reminded of what happened to you and Orophin when you were his age.”
“Meleth, oh my love, my tithen maethor, I wish that I could have walked this path for you to protect you from the pain - and you worry that your telling of it will hurt me…” He was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Instead he wiped her tears and kissed her.
Then, as sometimes happened with their minds open to each other, they both had the same thought.
‘What can we do with this knowledge? There must be some reason for us knowing what happened to this elfling so long ago… mustn’t there?’
“Although,” Tindómë added to their mental conversation, “perhaps it would have been kinder if Haldirin had not awakened him… if his fëa had been left asleep.”
……………………………………………..
*Firith - late autumn - the elves used six seasons rather than twelve months to divide the year.
Rhîw - winter.
Lord Namo - one of the Valar; he ‘calls’ the fëar of dead elves to Mandos Halls.
Tithen maethor - little warrior. The twin sons of Elrond gave Tindómë this name when she was still Dawn, recovering from her injuries in Minas Tirith.
……………………………………………..
There was little they could do immediately, they agreed, but surely there must be something that could be done rather than leave the elfling lost, forever, in winter.
In the meantime Éowyn had planned for them to spend the day, by the river, picnicking and generally being lazy.
Which is where Legolas found them.
He had stayed a little longer in Minas Tirith after the wedding of young Boromir and Princess Gilraen. Time spent with his fellow members of the Fellowship of the Ring was to be savoured, and the wedding had brought together all those still in Middle Earth.
But last night he had not felt able to sleep in his suite in the King’s House; he had climbed out of his window and sat in the tree that grew beside it, in Arwen’s garden. Back to the trunk, knees drawn up, he had gazed at the moon through the branches and slowly he drifted down dream paths and slept.
He had woken with a start and a sudden feeling that he should go to Tindómë; that his ‘small sister’ needed him. Apologising to Arwen and Aragorn he extended, again, an invitation to the visiting hobbits to accompany Gimli on a visit to Eryn Ithil, and rode to Ithilien saying, only, that he needed to be away from the heaviness of stone walls.
He let his horse move at his own pace and it did not take long to reach the home of the Prince and Princess of Ithilien. A servant told him that the Princess and her guests were picnicking beside the river, and he rode on, somewhat reassured. When he drew close enough to see the party on the riverbank he felt tension, which he had not even noticed, drain away.
Rumil was lying on his stomach at the edge of the river, Haldirin at his side, clearly showing the elfling how to guddle trout; successfully, if the small pile of fish on the bank was anything to go by. Éowyn and Tindómë sat on a blanket nearby; Tindómë had a pad of paper in her lap, and seemed to be drawing the scene in front of her. Whatever the reason he had felt drawn to seek her out, at least she did not appear to be in any danger or pain.
She looked up as he came within sight and he briefly saw, not only welcome, but relief flit across her face.
“Nethig…”
He swung down from his horse, and walked towards her, reaching a finger out to touch her cheek briefly.
“It is so good to see you, atheg,” she said.
As it was less than a fortnight since they had last seen each other, in Minas Tirith, he was even more sure that something was worrying her. He would, doubtless, find out soon enough.
Éowyn greeted him warmly and asked if he was on his way back to Eryn Ithil straight away or would he like to stay for a day or two? He glanced quickly at Tindómë - she wanted him to stay…
Legolas knew that Rumil was aware of him but the other ellon did not look around until he lifted another trout out and placed it on the bank.
Haldirin spoke first. “Legolas! Ada and me are catching trout and we are going to cook them for Nana and Lady Éowyn, to give the cook a rest.”
“Ada and I,” came Tindómë’s voice behind Legolas as he scooped up the elfling and held him, briefly, above his head.
Legolas watched Tindómë and Rumil interact as he cared for his horse. There was clearly no problem between the couple - whatever worried his ‘small sister’ it was not a problem between her and her husband. Not that he had expected any such thing.
Ah - Tindómë was coming to join him whilst Éowyn was speaking to Rumil.
“Is all well with you, nethig?” Legolas asked quietly.
“Yes… and no,” was the enigmatic reply.
“I felt, when I woke this morning, that you needed me…”
“We have… discovered something. No, nothing dangerous,” she went on - he must have looked worried.
“I mean we’ve not found out that Éowyn is plotting to overthrow Aragorn or anything…” she said, grinning briefly.
“Actually,” she went on, “as Éowyn doesn’t understand much Sindarin, especially Haldirin when he is babbling, just chat to him for a while… ask him what he’s been doing. Uh, even who he’s been playing with…”
It seemed an odd suggestion, but Legolas had learnt that it was often best to just do as Tindómë said.
Turning back to the others, Legolas asked “If we are eating your catch, Rumil, should Haldirin and I look for wood for a fire?”
There was a glance between Tindómë and her husband and then Rumil agreed that that would be a very good idea.
Soon Legolas was busy, with the elfling, collecting firewood. It was not what he would have expected to be doing today, if anyone had asked him yesterday in Minas Tirith, but the gentle mental caress of the trees was both soothing and very welcome.
He let Haldirin chatter but steered the conversation as Tindómë had suggested.
“He is very sad, my friend… I think it is because he can’t come out into the sunshine with me. But I like going to play in his garden when it is too hot…”
Legolas was a bit lost in the conversation. “Is this a mortal child from one of the servants’ families that you play with, little one?”
“No. My friend is an elfling, Legolas… he lives in the Winter Garden.”
As Legolas was certain there were no other elflings visiting the mortal settlement, he realised that this must be what was troubling Tindómë - but he did not really understand what was going on. He felt a most un-elflike impatience to know more.
………………………………………………………
Atheg - ‘something an elf might call his or her elder brother’.
Nethig - ‘something an elf might call his or her small sister.’
………………………………………………………
The fish, cooked over the fire and eaten with bread from the Manor House kitchens, was, Legolas thought, the best thing he had eaten since he left Eryn Ithil. Certainly a good deal simpler than anything eaten in the Citadel - but even the visiting hobbits would probably agreed that trout so fresh could not be surpassed.
Perhaps he should have stressed, especially to Sam, how good the fishing was, and the mushrooms, in Eryn Ithil… On the other hand, a few days to find out more about the mysterious elfling that was worrying Tindómë, before he became host to his friends, might well be useful.
They walked back together; Haldirin, riding on Legolas’ horse, happily declaring that he would have to tell his friend, tomorrow, how he had ridden all on his own.
It was approaching dusk before there was really time to talk to Rumil or Tindómë - and this was only achieved by Legolas telling Éowyn that he had left the city to get away from walls; he begged her indulgence, but he longed to spend time quietly outdoors.
It seemed only natural for the other ellon to join him in and head for one of the tree-lined walks. Soon they were sitting companionably in the broad arms of one of the older trees and Legolas listened, carefully, as Rumil told him about the encounters with the Winter Elfling.
“We have not told Éowyn,” Rumil finished, “as Tindómë says she is likely to be upset at the idea of a ‘ghost’ of any sort living so near to her house.”
“Tindómë is right,” Legolas said, with a wry smile, “the Rohirrim are superstitious, and Éowyn no less so than any other; remember ‘the grey shadow warriors’.”
The allusion, from the time when Éowyn had become acquainted with Tindómë, made Rumil also smile.
“At least,” he said slowly, “she no longer fears that we may steal her children…”
Both ellyn sat in silence for a little longer before Legolas spoke.
“It seems right that there should have been elves living here in Ithilien before the Enemy blighted everything. It was known to the mortals as a place of fair trees and flowers.”
In the pink-tinged grey light a moth took off from the trunk behind him. The ellyn watched its course into the night. Legolas stretched a leg along the bough where he sat, cocked his head to listen to the churring of a nightjar just lifting to the wing, and then continued the conversation.
“I am sure you are both right and the appearance of this small lost fëa, now, is related to The Key within Tindómë and Haldirin. I have spent time in the Winter Garden, without any mortals, more than once and he did not appear to me.”
The sun set. They listened to the sounds of the night. Perhaps half an hour passed before Legolas spoke again.
“And, now that this elfling has been awoken, what can we do? We cannot, in all conscience, leave him in an existence between life and death.”
…………………………………………………………………….
Chapter six is here.