Far Horizons 25: Settling

Minalcar could not believe that he was pleased to be sent to work opening up and planting the gardens, but anything, he felt, was an improvement on catching and gutting fish.  He trailed off behind Ambantor and Loareg relatively willingly once Glorfindel had finished giving out assignments, even, the keen-eyed elf noticed, managing to summon a smile.

‘Should our hunting party not return today?’ Rindor asked.  ‘They have been gone rather longer than expected.’

‘You worry too much,’ Haldir told him airily.  ‘It is no wonder you look so tired.  Perhaps I should arrange for one of Thornen’s rest cures for you.’

‘I imagine that both our parties of strays should be returned to us today,’ Glorfindel intervened.  ‘At least, that is the word from Tineithil – who also tells me that we should expect visitors from among the Forest Elves.’

‘The Lady?’ Rindor raised his eyebrows.

‘He would not say – but I suspect that she may not arrive this time.  However,’ he added, looking at Haldir speculatively, ‘if we are having visitors, we will need to provide something for them to eat.  Now,’ he confided, ‘correct me if I am wrong, but I am under the impression that everyone here is fully occupied – too much to do and too few to do it – but we have plenty of staple foodstuffs, and with our hunters returning with venison, we should be all right.’

‘But,’ Rindor nodded, ‘you are right.  We need someone to prepare the vegetables and make the fish stew.  Let me see,’ he pondered, ‘who do we have who is unable to take part in more active work?’  He allowed his eyes to follow Glorfindel’s and they both looked wolfishly at the blond march warden.

‘I do not do catering,’ Haldir stated bluntly. ‘My knives are not for cutting up carrots.  You will have to find another victim for your malice.’

Glorfindel put his hand to his chest in mock pain.  ‘You wound me,’ he said. ‘Is it malicious to ask you to pull your weight in our struggling group of venturers?’

‘If you want kitchen maids, then call the brats back – I’m sure the exercise in humility will do them good.  I have been flat on my back waiting for my leg to heal, having every personal necessity tended like an elfling – that is humiliation enough.’

‘What do you eat then?’ Rindor queried.  ‘When there is no-one else around to prepare your food?’

‘Lembas,’ Haldir replied shortly. ‘Easily portable, long-lasting, sustaining.  Or my speciality – rabbit on a stick.  Once you have seen me cook that, you have reached the end of my talents.’

‘It is no wonder you volunteer for every group activity,’ Glorfindel said, shaking his head.  ‘You would starve if left to yourself.  Perhaps we should look to finding you a suitable bride – one who expects very little in the way of courting, but knows how to cook.’

‘I thank you for your concern, but no,’ Haldir frowned.  ‘Should I ever be foolhardy enough to want to encumber myself with a wife, I will select my own.’

‘And may I be there to see it,’ Rindor told him pleasantly.  ‘Come, my lord.  There is too much to do to indulge in further pleasantries.  You have letters to write.’

Glorfindel sighed.  ‘I am sure there is something more useful that I could do,’ he complained.  ‘You really do not need to keep me there to sharpen your pens, Rindor.’

‘There is always the cooking,’ Rindor suggested. 

‘On second thoughts, my friend,’ the elf lord laughed, letting the sentence trail away as he headed with resignation to his makeshift office.

***

Vondil paddled the small boat along the last stretch of river.  Boats, he reflected, would definitely have their place here, but this river was too powerful to take for granted.  It was a disappointment to him, in one way, that the waterfall dropping down to the plain was too sheer make an effective route – it would be so much easier to transport goods along waterways – but in other ways he was quite pleased that the beauty of the water would not be compromised by the shoddy practicality of barges.  And, after all, once they had made the journey and set up their homes, trading caravans would only be needed on occasion for luxuries of which they would have little need.

He looked across to Alagsir.  Their boats had acquired a number of small gifts from those to whom they had been introduced on the way back, but the greatest gift they had received had been the friendship and welcome of the forest’s people.  Alagsir had proved an excellent ambassador for them – his warmth and ability to talk to all sorts had been as useful as Falas’s sense of humour and genuine interest in the processes of living here.  He was slightly less pleased with Aelindor.  Despite his request that the forester refrain from spending so many hours with Dumir’s daughter, Aelindor and Domeniel had continued to spend time together – although he supposed, to be fair, that Aelindor had done his best to ensure that such conversations were held in public.

Vondil had attempted, in his joint role as her uncle and the leader of this side expedition, to put his point of view to Domeniel, but he had been unsurprised when she had told him that what she chose to do was no business of his.  He sighed.  He felt that, if anything, her brothers’ attitude and his own attempt to prevent the development of the relationship had only increased her determination to spend as much time as she could in Aelindor’s company.  He was rather glad, in many ways, that he was here on the water, where nobody could expect him to intervene.  At least her naneth did not seem to be worried about them.  When Vondil had spoken to her, she had only laughed and told him that he would be better off trying to hold back the river – and likely to have more success.

‘We are nearly there now,’ Alagsir called cheerfully.  ‘It will be good to see what progress has been made while we have been off exploring.’

Vondil grinned.  ‘I am looking forward to it,’ he admitted.  It would be good to hand the authority back to Lord Glorfindel.  He enjoyed leading patrols and taking charge for short periods, but, on the whole, he was glad he did not have the level of responsibility that faced the elf lord each day.  ‘I hope they have prepared a big party to welcome us.’

***

‘Come on,’ Loareg said impatiently.  ‘If we do not get enough planted and watered in, then Ruindel will not let us go off into the forest for a break.  My naneth sent some honey cakes for us and my adar let me have a skin of cider.  If you stop us getting a chance to enjoy them, I will not bother another day.’

‘I had no idea that fiddling with plants was such hard work,’ Minalcar complained, putting a hand to his back. ‘At least when you are fishing, you get to sit down.’

Ambantor grinned at him and rubbed a grubby hand across his sweaty forehead.  ‘I would rather do this than be forced to gut fish,’ he commented. ‘I prefer to work with growing things.’  He followed Minalcar, dribbling water on the seedlings as they were firmed in.

‘I am forced to agree – but that does not mean that I am prepared to accept that we should be doing either,’ Minalcar told him.  ‘And why do I have to do the planting while all you are doing is carrying that bucket?  I think I should do that for a change.’

‘And I think you all talk too much,’ Ruindel remarked, arriving to look at their work. ‘Not bad,’ he commented.  ‘At least Loareg appears to know what he is doing.  You can have a rest when you have finished with those plants.’  He grinned at them wickedly.  ‘I have a different task for you this afternoon.  One I can guarantee you will enjoy.’

Ambantor eyed him warily.  ‘And what might that be?’ he asked, taking care to remain polite.  He had not enjoyed Ruindel’s earlier reaction to some thoughtless rudeness and preferred not to provoke another stinging rebuke.

‘We have a fair number of horses with us,’ Ruindel smiled, ‘and they have all been doing their best to produce fertiliser for the forest.  You are going to collect it and heap it so that it can be combined with leaf litter to rot down and feed the gardens.’

Minalcar straightened up.  ‘You want us to collect horse droppings?’ he said with disbelief.  ‘I will not do it!’

Ruindel’s eyes narrowed and the smile faded.

‘We will talk him round, my lord,’ Loareg said hastily. ‘Just let him get used to the idea.’

‘I am no lord,’ Ruindel turned his steely stare on the Forest Elf.  ‘And do not think to get round me by using honeyed words.  I will examine his hands before I will agree that the task has been completed properly.  You would all do well to remember that.’

Loareg wished once again that he had been rather less enthusiastic about leaving his home to take part in the surveillance of the new arrivals.  ‘Yes, Ruindel,’ he sighed. ‘I will do my best.’

Ruindel raised his eyebrows.  ‘It is not you, Loareg, who needs to impress.  You are your adar’s responsibility and any assistance you are providing is a bonus.  There are others here who will find that it is hard work and a pleasant attitude that will earn them acceptance.’

Ambantor flushed as Ruindel walked away.  ‘I did not mean to insult him,’ he said resentfully.  ‘He does not need to keep on about it.’

‘I am not,’ Minalcar said firmly, keeping to the key point, ‘collecting horse droppings.’

‘Now there,’ Loareg told him with a grin, ‘I think you will find you are wrong.  Ruindel is not the kind of elf to change his mind – unless you want to find yourself facing Lord Glorfindel, I think you had better resign yourself to the task.’

‘There are people who choose,’ Minalcar asked incredulously, ‘to live like this?  Once I get home, I do not believe I will ever leave the city streets again.’

Loareg narrowed his eyes.  It was quite entertaining getting to know these strangely useless elves, but, if they were not careful, they would find that returning from their unwelcome occupation in the woods would be rather less straightforward than they thought.  He grinned quietly to himself.  Perhaps they might find there were strange creatures in the woods that they had not expected.  He was sure it could be arranged.

***

Legolas watched her as intently as she gazed at him.

Elladan’s lips twitched.  Each time one of them looked away, the other turned to stare. Then, when the glance of the other was drawn back, they would both flush and inspect the food on the table or the view from the window or the grain of the wood, only to turn back moments later.

‘I had not realised,’ he observed, ‘how much Legolas had grown to resemble you, Lady Laerwen.’

Elrohir’s attention was brought back from his thoughts and he regarded the two.  ‘You are right,’ he agreed.  ‘I had never thought of it before.  Their hair is very similar and their profile is the same.  I have always said that Legolas could be mistaken for an elleth.’

Legolas raised his eyebrows disdainfully.  ‘I will have you know that my looks have been extensively praised,’ he told them.

‘But by whom?’ Elladan asked him earnestly.  ‘It is not a good thing to have soldiers writing poetry about your beauty, Legolas.’

Laerwen laughed.   ‘I was wrong – you have not grown up at all,’ she said.  ‘Your jokes are just as ridiculous as they were when you were elflings.’

‘Not you, too,’ Elrohir groaned.  ‘Glorfindel considers us to be perpetual elflings, who need an occasional slapping to make sure we do not get too big for our boots.  I will have you know that we are respectable husbands and adars now.’

Her eyes brightened.  ‘Tell me about your families,’ she said.

‘Another time, Lady,’ Elladan suggested.  ‘I think we two and Camentur should return to our hunt, leaving you to spend some time with your son.’

Laerwen drew a deep breath.  ‘I will send Amondil and his patrol to ensure that your hunt is successful,’ she decided.  ‘You are right.  We need to talk.’

Legolas watched wistfully as they left, before turning resolutely to look at the strange Lady who had turned out to be his adar’s wife and his own naneth.

‘How is Thranduil?’ Laerwen asked him, studying her hands.

‘He is – more rested,’ Legolas replied after some consideration.  ‘He was worn down when he arrived.  And he was grieved, although he never said so, not to find you waiting for him.’

His naneth winced.  ‘I could not,’ she said, her voice pained, I could not leave the forest.  The trees sustained me as I tried to learn to be myself again.  Returning from Mandos is not as easy as it might sound, I am afraid.’

Legolas softened a little as he looked at her.  ‘I remember you singing to me before I went to sleep,’ he said irrelevantly.  ‘And I recall one day when you took me out into the forest to pick flowers for Adar’s begetting day.   We were caught in a sudden shower and danced in the rain.’

She put a hand to her throat.  ‘That was only a few days before -,’ she stopped.  ‘Who cared for you?’ she asked.  ‘When I was no longer there?’

‘Adar, mostly,’ Legolas said simply.  ‘He needed me as much as I needed him.  When he had to sit with me through the night, it held him fast.  He knew that, were he to fade, he would be deserting the realm and leaving me to die – and he could do neither.  I did not really realise until my own elflings arrived how much he gave of himself.’

‘And when he was busy with the business of kingship?’

Legolas smiled.  ‘I think I spent about a year sitting on his lap as he ruled,’ he said. ‘And then he weaned me off to spend time with my tutors and play with friends. Yet still he was there for me – it was rare for him not to put me to bed and tell me stories.’

His naneth smiled.  ‘He likes to make people think that he is a fierce and hard ruler,’ she said with warm recollection, ‘but he has a gentle heart.’

‘I might have debated that as I grew up,’ Legolas said wryly. ‘He was not tolerant of imperfections and he set his standards high – but I always knew his demands were made out of love.’  He tentatively reached out his hand to take hers.  ‘Why did you not greet us as we landed, Naneth?  I find that hard to accept.’

She raised her hand, pressing his to her cheek.  ‘I am sorry,’ she told him.  ‘When you arrived – I was new to this life and it was too much emotion.  I could not endure the presence of so many people near me – and I was afraid of rejection.’ 

He felt a tear spill from her eye and trickle along his finger.  ‘Why would I reject you?’ he asked softly.  ‘It was not your fault that we were divided, any more than it was mine or Adar’s.  We have all looked forward to this moment.  Adar, most of all.’

‘Will you send him to me?’ Laerwen requested.  ‘I cannot yet bring myself to leave the forest to seek him out, but I long for him to join me here.’

Legolas grinned.  ‘If only I could think of a way to send him without letting him know what to expect,’ he remarked regretfully.  ‘But I think it would be wiser to tell him.  He will come.’ He moved closer to her and put his arms round her gently. ‘He will come as soon as he learns what is awaiting him here. Be sure of it.’

***

Domeniel was increasingly nervous as they approached the area where the new arrivals were building their settlement.  ‘How many of you are there?’ she asked again.

‘Not many,’ Aelindor reassured her, ‘unless others have reached us while we have been away.  Fewer than lived in the village.’

‘And all male?’ she said disapprovingly.  ‘Did you feel no need to bring a mixed party?’

Aelindor inclined his head.  ‘We did not know what we might meet,’ he pointed out. ‘We elves of Arda – like your adar – are accustomed to having to protect our families from dangers more worrying than rain and wild animals.  We would not choose to bring our wives and elflings until we knew the forest to be safe.’

‘Do you not think,’ she told him haughtily, ‘that we are just as capable of looking after ourselves?’

He slid her an amused glance. ‘I am sure you are,’ he said placatingly. ‘But do not begrudge us the illusion that we are needed.’ 

She sniffed. ‘You do not mean that,’ she told him.  ‘You are all as bad as Orntar – thinking that ellyth should be dressed up in petticoats and confined to the villages to tend the gardens and the elflings.’

‘We differ,’ he smiled.  ‘Like your adar and Orntar – some think that is how life should be, but others do not.  Now we have safe, dry shelters – and the approval of your Lady – I daresay Lord Glorfindel will send for some families to begin their journey.’

‘Do you have anyone who will come?’ she asked shyly.

‘No,’ he said, ‘no.  Not, I think, in the way you mean.  My parents and my brother’s family will want to come here as soon as possible.  I expect that, for a time, I will live with them.  After that,’ he looked at her with soft grey eyes, ‘we will see.’

***

They returned with three deer over the backs of their rather unimpressed horses.  ‘We were told that more food might be required,’ Elladan explained.  ‘Apparently the Lady is encouraging the elves of her forest to make our acquaintance.’

Camentur took the reins of his mount.  ‘I will see to this,’ he remarked.  ‘I think you have things you need to discuss.’  He drew the horses away, calling insistently for assistance with the proceeds of the hunt.  Gwathor detached himself from his conversation with Haldir and strolled over to aid him.

‘What have you done with Legolas?’ Glorfindel asked curiously.  ‘I hope you have not lost him.  His adar would not take it well – and that pretty wife of his would have your ears.’

The twins exchanged glances.  ‘We encountered the Lady,’ Elrohir informed him.  ‘I think she was waiting for us.  She had us escorted to where she was expecting us – and -.’  He stopped and shot a quick look at the elf lord, before taking a quick breath. ‘It would appear that Lady Laerwen has returned from Mandos to set up home in the forest.’

Glorfindel nodded acceptingly.

‘Did you know?’  Elladan asked sharply.

‘No,’ Glorfindel told him easily, ‘but I thought it was a possibility.’  He looked at the twins with amusement.  ‘Do you mean that I was one step ahead of you?  The old fox still has an advantage.  Laerwen was – is – a Silvan elf – and a queen.  The forest responded to her just as it did to Thranduil – and to Legolas.  I am not as closely tuned as they are to the song of the trees, but even I can tell that there is considerable power at work here.  I am glad I was right.  It is time and more for our Greenleaf to come to know his naneth – and I look forward to seeing Thranduil degenerate into the lovesick elf he was when they first wed.’

‘I wonder what my sister will think,’ Camentur mused as he returned to lead Elrohir’s horse away.  ‘She has grown accustomed to married life in the absence of a naneth-in-law.  It might be rather disconcerting to acquire one at this stage.’

‘Valar, yes,’ Elladan said appreciatively.  ‘Can you imagine if Adar had only met Daernaneth after he arrived in Valinor?  She can be rather intimidating when she puts her mind to it.  It would have been enough to make him attempt to row back!’

‘And Naneth was not even born when Adar last saw Elwing!  I wonder what she was like,’ Elrohir pondered.  A slow smile spread across his face.  ‘How would it be if she and Earendil suddenly turned up one day?  Even Adar does not really know them, after all.  Any more than Legolas knows Laerwen.’

Glorfindel’s eyes looked into the distance and he sighed sadly before choosing to ignore the thoughts on Elrond’s family and replying.  ‘Legolas will be fine,’ he said.  ‘He will find that he remembers his naneth better than he thinks, now that he no longer needs to bury the pain.  And Laerwen,’ he told Camentur, ‘is a gentle soul.  She will love Elerrina and Elerrina will love her.  Do not worry about them.’

‘Lady Laerwen and Legolas will be joining us later,’ Elrohir informed him.  ‘Together with her captain Amondil and a few of his picked guards.’

‘Amondil,’ Glorfindel repeated.  ‘Amondil.  I think I know him.’

 ‘I expect you do,’ Camentur observed. ‘For he certainly knows you.  He had a most interesting expression on his face when we spoke of you leading this expedition.’

Glorfindel laughed as he clapped Camentur on the shoulder.  ‘Do you know,’ he said expansively, ‘this gets more and more entertaining as we go on.  I look forward to meeting him again.’

***

Ambantor looked round uneasily.  He was sure he had heard something, but he could not see anything except for trees.  The swiftly woven willow basket containing the horse droppings batted against his leg and tipped some of its contents on his boot.   He cursed under his breath.

In the shelter of a tree to his right, Loareg rustled the leaves and made a low hissing.

Looking up from trying to scoop it all back into the basket, Ambantor turned, but he was not quick enough to see Loareg move to a bushy hazel and slip to the ground.

The Forest Elf picked up his own basket and approached the other.  ‘Have you found enough yet to be spared any more of this duty?’ he said innocently. 

Ambantor looked at him.  ‘Have you heard anything odd?’ he asked.  ‘I think something is following us.’

Loareg persuaded his features to tense anxiously.  ‘Not really?’ he replied, turning round and looking at the trees.  ‘Are you sure it is not just Minalcar?  I have not seen him collecting many of the horses’ gifts for Ruindel.  Perhaps he is hiding.’

‘I do not think so,’ Ambantor bit his lip.  ‘If there is anything in the forest that could harm us, you would let us know, would you not, Loareg?  It is not as if we are even armed – except for my boot knife.’

‘There is nothing there,’ Loareg reassured him with enough intensity to convince Ambantor that he was attempting to mislead him.  ‘Truly, there is nothing that will harm you.’  He looked round again.  ‘Did you hear something?’ he hissed.  ‘Quick, run before it gets here!  I will distract it.’  He pushed the other elf towards the trees. ‘Run!’

Heading off in the direction in which he had been pushed, Ambantor thrust his way between the clutching brambles and ducked under low branches until he realised that he now had absolutely no idea where he was.  He spun round, breathing heavily enough to obscure the forest sounds.  What was he going to do now?  Suppose whatever had attracted Loareg’s attention pursued him?  He would have no idea how to escape it.

As his breathing slowed, he began to realise that the noises surrounding him were those of a woodland at peace.  There were no alarm calls from the birds; the busy scutterings of the small mammals were unconcerned; the trees hummed with a calm pleasure.

He appeared to be safe.

Now all he had to do was find his way back to the others.  He hesitated, dabbing at the bleeding scratches left by the thorny vines.  He could not just leave Loareg and try to find his way to safety – he had to  retrace his steps to find what had happened in the glade behind him.

It took him some time.  His woodcraft was better than Minalcar’s and he had not attempted to hide his trail, but his reluctant caution slowed him down, so that it took him three times as long to find the place he had last seen the young Forest Elf as it had to escape.

There was no-one there.  The only evidence that anyone had ever been there was a small amount of the horse dung he had failed to pick up.  He looked around, undecided whether to call out or attempt to find help. 

‘Loareg,’ he whispered urgently, and when nothing happened he called slightly louder, ‘Loareg!’ 

‘Where has my son gone now?’ A Forest Elf detached himself from the shadows of the trees.  ‘It is time for you to return to camp – and bathe,’ he added, looking at the scratched and dishevelled elf before him.  ‘Ruindel had gathered up your friend and I offered to find you two.’

‘I think he might be lost,’ Ambantor told him earnestly.  ‘There were noises in the woods and he told me to run – he said he would deal with whatever it was.’

The younger elf was surprised to see a grin on Tineithil’s face.  ‘What sort of noises?’

‘Rustling – and hissing.  It sounded as if something dangerous was heading this way.’

‘Loareg!’ Tineithil called. ‘Return to us now.’

His son appeared from between the branches of a sheltering tree, a broad grin on his face.  ‘I did not see anything, Ambantor,’ he said.  ‘There is really little that will harm you in this part of the forest.  I told you so.’

Ambantor flushed, then paled and to Loareg’s surprise began to laugh.  ‘Just you wait,’ he said.  ‘I am going to get you for that!’

‘You will have to wait until I have finished with him first,’ Tineithil observed.

The two younger elves exchanged glances that seemed to agree that adars the world over were much the same.

‘Come,’ Tineithil commanded.  ‘We will return by way of Ruindel’s dung-heap so that you may dispose of your last basketful – and then the pair of you will immerse yourselves in plenty of cold water.   There will be a celebration tonight – and unless you are a good deal cleaner, you will not be permitted to attend.’

***

The smell of roast venison filled the large clearing, cut with overtones of fish stew. Vondil smiled as he led his group, together with his brother and his family into the sunlit area.  It would seem that they were expected and that those who would later slip from the wood to join them would also be welcomed.

‘My lord,’ he said, as Glorfindel approached them.

‘It is good to see you,’ the expedition’s leader smiled.  ‘But surely you have returned with more that you took with you.’  He turned to Dumir and Brethiliel, inclining his head politely.  ‘We are happy to greet you,’ he said.

‘My brother, Dumir, returned from Mandos,’ Vondil told him briefly.  ‘His wife, Brethiliel and his children, Thonion, Cirith and Domeniel.’ 

His niece scowled as Vondil drew attention to her and pulled behind Aelindor.

‘I believe you are the first to visit us,’ Glorfindel remarked pleasantly, ‘but I am told there will be others visiting our camp this night.  Join us.’

As the afternoon darkened to evening, other groups of elves came out of the trees, some approaching boldly, others skulking close to the forest, so that they would be able to withdraw easily.  Glorfindel split his group up, sending each to make the acquaintance of as many elves as possible.

‘They are expecting the Lady,’ Elrohir said in Glorfindel’s ear. ‘Whatever you might think.  She has sent word that she will be here.  Do you have any more formal robes with you?  I hate to say this – I am beginning to sound like Adar – but this is probably the right moment for a bit of display.’

‘Funnily enough,’ Glorfindel confided, ‘I did not see much opportunity for wearing my court robes on this mission – I am sorry to say that I left them behind.  Do you think Laerwen will be able to bring herself to speak to me?’

‘I am not sure,’ Elladan told him, shaking his head.  ‘You are looking a bit the worse for wear.’

‘Look behind you,’ Tineithil said quietly, appearing from the shadows.

In the light of the rising moon, two fair-haired figures stepped into the glade, gleaming in the soft light.  Tall they were and clad in shimmering white.  The music of the night sang them forward, drifting over the soft grass to stand in the centre of a circle of argent moonbeams.  Legolas held his arm out formally as his naneth rested her hand lightly on his pale sleeve.  Their heads were crowned in circlets of leaves twisted together with white flowers and they stood like figures from a dream.

‘Valar, he looks like his adar,’ Elladan breathed.

Glorfindel stepped forward, the light catching his golden hair and he dropped gracefully to one knee before the Lady, bowing his head in formal courtesy.

‘You are most welcome here,’ Laerwen said in a clear silvery voice intended to carry across the clearing.  ‘I am glad to see you for yourself, Glorfindel of Imladris, hero of Gondolin, Balrog-Slayer, right hand of Elrond Earendilion, but you are even more welcome for the happiness you have brought me in the person of my son, Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Lasgalen.’