Far Horizons 11:  Meetings 

The frail looking craft appeared too delicate to be safe on the broad and relentless silver ribbon of the river, but appearances, Glorfindel thought, were apparently deceptive. Alagsir and Vondil thrust them through the water confidently, keeping close to the bank, where, they informed him, the bend of the great river made the current rather slower.  The golden-haired elf was prepared to take their word for it.  Little, he decided, would tempt him to risk himself in what looked a dangerous pursuit.

Fortunately others amongst them were less cautious.  Only Domenion and Ruindel had admitted openly that, unless it was a choice between certain death and venturing on the water, they would infinitely prefer to stay among the trees, but Glorfindel suspected that there were others who would be much happier to remain on dry land. However, enough had volunteered for training to ensure that parties could be sent to investigate the possibilities offered by the river. 

His conversation with Rindor had proved interesting.  Whilst failing to identify who had been planted to sabotage the venture, between them they had the possibilities narrowed down.  Glorfindel consequently felt no hesitation in sending four of his small party downstream to map the course of the river.  The two happy boatmen, together with Aelindor and Falas had the attributes needed to carry out the task and could be trusted to get along with each other while they did it.

‘Take care,’ he instructed them.  ‘We have no idea what dangers might be along the way – and we have learned that it is possible to travel a great way downstream, but that it is much harder to return.  Return in no more than two weeks, whether you find anything interesting or not – this is not the time for an extended exploration.’

Alagsir looked at him patiently. ‘We know, my lord,’ he said. ‘We will travel downstream for no more than five days and then work our way back.  We have enough essentials and we can supplement the food by fishing and hunting.’

Glorfindel grinned.  ‘I feel like your naneth,’ he informed the group.  ‘Do not forget to wash your hands before meals,’ he said, ‘and do not stay up all night talking.  You need your rest.’

Falas returned his smile.  ‘You sound like my naneth, too, my lord,’ he remarked. ‘I will reply as I would to her – do not worry.  We will not do anything you would not like.’

‘But as I recall,’ observed Glorfindel, ‘that promise is immediately followed by forgetfulness – and the doing of a great many things of which your naneth should never learn.’

The other elves laughed.  ‘Two weeks, my lord,’ Alagsir confirmed, and the small boats set off smoothly through the water.

‘I wish I was going,’ Rindor said quietly in Glorfindel’s ear.  ‘It should prove interesting.’

The leader of the expedition turned and patted his aide’s shoulder. ‘I am sure we can find some much more interesting things for you to do, my friend,’ he said cheerfully.  ‘I do not believe there are enough written records yet – you must have been slacking. And Haldir can help you while he is incapacitated, while I take on some of his tasks.’

‘Thank you, my lord.’ Rindor sounded disgusted.  ‘I am not even certain that Haldir is able to write.’

‘He just likes to keep it quiet,’ Glorfindel confided.  ‘He is terrified someone might ask him to sit at a desk.  We have him captive – he cannot escape until Thornen takes him out of that magnificent contraption designed to keep his leg straight as it heals.  He will be obliged to co-operate or we can withhold his treats.’

Rindor snorted.  ‘Do not tempt me, my lord.’

Glorfindel grinned.  ‘It is just his manner,’ he said.  ‘Bite back.  He is embarrassed and frustrated – and he takes it out on you because he sees you as a prissy perfectionist clerk.  The sort of person who will tell him he has used up his allocation of arrows for the month and he must not indent for more.’

As they strolled back along what was now a clear pathway from the river, they observed some of their party at work on tasks to establish a comfortable staging post, where elves could rest safely in the trees in a community designed to help them settle into the forest.  Nintaur was directing the positioning of wooden platforms being hoisted into the trees, as Neldin scrambled above, efficiently applying finishing touches.  It all looked rather garish and new, but it would not be long, Glorfindel thought, before the bright new wood faded to silver-grey and the flets became part of the forest.

‘It reminds me of Lasgalen,’ he commented, ‘in safer days, when most lived in the trees.  It is less grand than the Golden Wood, where the Lady held court. I am not sure,’ he observed, ‘how she will take to life here.  It seems rather too rustic for her.’

‘Will she come?’ Rindor enquired with a little surprise.  ‘I would have expected her to sit and wait until it is developed to her liking.  I cannot imagine her among these trees at this point, where little exists for her comfort.’

‘She will come,’ he was assured. ‘She is far tougher than you youngsters would suspect – and she has spent too many long years apart from Celeborn.  And she will have us jumping to her bidding before she has been here a week.’

Haldir was resting beneath a canvas awning intended to keep him dry and sheltered from wind and sun, but he was not relaxed.  In fact, Glorfindel decided impatiently, the only part of him not twitching was his broken leg, splinted and held immobile.

‘There you are,’ the march warden snapped as he approached.  ‘About time!  Come closer so that I do not have to shout.’

‘I perceive that you are again in a good mood,’ Rindor remarked sharply, ‘and displaying the respect that you owe Lord Glorfindel.’

‘Peace,’ Glorfindel murmured.  ‘We have known each other a long time – too long to stand on courtesy.  What is it, Haldir?’

‘Turn round, Glorfindel.  Keep your hands away from your weapons and keep a smile on your face.’

Glorfindel lifted his eyebrows.  ‘That sounds like a threat, Haldir.’

‘Just do it!  And it wouldn’t hurt if you sat down – you would appear less of a danger.’

Ignoring the final request, Glorfindel turned toward the direction indicated by the march warden.  At first there appeared to be nothing to see and he glanced back with a puzzled frown.

‘Can you not feel it?’ Haldir asked quietly.  ‘The trees are singing their presence.’

Glorfindel looked back to the majestic trees bordering their clearing, attempting to open himself as far as he could to the song of the forest.  He could hear what Haldir meant, he thought, although it clearly was not speaking to him in the same way that it was to the Wood Elf.  He inspected the branches carefully and was not very surprised when a shadow of green and grey detached itself from the proud trunk of a solid oak and permitted the elf lord to see him.

‘There are elves here, Haldir,’ he whispered.  ‘The forest is already inhabited.’

His feeling of surprise was compounded with regret.  Surely, if the territory had already been claimed, then it would no longer be possible for Glorfindel to continue the exploration, or for the elves of Arda to carry on with their plan to migrate to the forest.  Finarfin could not have known – though that was hardly surprising, Glorfindel thought, as his own party had been sitting here for a period of weeks now, and they had not known either. 

The elf stood on his branch easily, his bow over his shoulder and his arms folded, showing clearly by his stance that he was not threatening to attack.  Although that, Glorfindel thought, need mean nothing, as clearly the trees could be full of these invisible elves, all with arrows pointed at his heart.

He spread his hands in a gesture of friendship.  ‘Welcome,’ he said, hoping that the elf before him spoke Sindarin sufficiently well to understand him.   ‘Would you care to join us for some tea?’

Rindor almost choked in his attempt to push down his laughter.  ‘Tea,’ he said.  ‘Yes, Nana, what a good idea.  Have we any cupcakes to go with it?’

The elf considered them, then sprang lightly to land easily on the grass before them. ‘Tea would be pleasant,’ he said softly in lightly accented Sindarin.  ‘It is interesting to speak to you after all this time,’ he continued, his eyes raking Glorfindel critically before turning to inspect Haldir.  ‘We have been watching you since you arrived. You seem respectful of the forest and the trees like you, so we decided to make contact.’

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows.  There seemed to be little to be said in response.  ‘We are glad to meet you.  Some among us have felt your presence.’ 

He inspected the other elf as he approached.  He was tall and slender, his dark hair braided in unfamiliar patterns and his skin seemed a little more olive in tone than Glorfindel’s own.  His eyes – well, grey eyes were customary among elves, but these seemed tinged with the green of lichen on beech bark.  He was confident, Glorfindel would give him that, considering that he was walking into a camp of armed elves who had no reason to trust him, although, looking round, Glorfindel admitted that few of his small party appeared to be anywhere near and it was, moreover, quite possible that this stranger was well guarded.

‘I am Glorfindel,’ he said simply.  ‘We have brought a party to look at the possibility of moving west of the mountains to come to the forest.’

The other regarded him.  ‘It would seem to be more than a possibility,’ he said. ‘There would be no need for you to be building a settlement if you had simply come to look.’ He turned his eyes to study Haldir as he lay on his pallet.  ‘Your healer appears thoroughly competent,’ he remarked.  ‘That fall could have proved fatal.’

‘You saw it?’ Rindor snapped to alertness.

‘Not I,’ the other replied, ‘but I was told of it.’

‘May I speak to the one who witnessed it?’

‘Later.  It would not be appropriate now,’ the unnamed elf insisted with amusement.  ‘This is a diplomatic encounter – not an investigation.’  He turned back to the group’s leader.  ‘Glorfindel,’ he said.  ‘I am Tineithil.’  He looked pointedly at the other two elves making up the group.

‘Rindor, my aide,’ Glorfindel said in response.  ‘And Haldir, our chief scout.’

‘Haldir,’ Tineithil repeated, inclining his head.   ‘It is not usual to see those with golden hair among the forest elves.’  He appeared to be considering their features with unusual interest.

‘There are some,’ Haldir informed him, ‘among those of the Golden Wood, and fewer who come from Eryn Lasgalen, but fewest of all from the halls of Imladris.’

‘Eryn Lasgalen,’ Tineithil repeated, turning the words over slowly.  ‘I believe I have heard the name.  There are those among us who made their home there before they passed to Mandos – and also some few who crossed the seas in search of healing before finding themselves here.’  He looked keenly at Glorfindel.  ‘You, too,’ he said firmly, ‘are among those who have been returned to life.’

‘I am,’ Glorfindel confirmed, ‘but many centuries ago – and I have lived another life since then.’  His voice informed the other that he had closed the subject.

Tineithil smiled.  ‘Then let us begin to learn what we seek now,’ he said, ‘and consider whether it may be achieved.’

***

The current carried them swiftly.  Falas grasped the sides of the small craft.  They had done their best, but he could not help remembering that none of them had built a boat of any description before.  However good the attempt, there was little between him and this rather intimidating river – and they would not know if the boat would hold up to the demands put on it until it chose to come to pieces.

‘Relax,’ Vondil told him as he paddled to keep the craft as close as was safe to the bank of the river.  ‘Clutching the edge will not keep us afloat.  I want you to watch the forest – and tell me what you see.’

Falas reluctantly drew his hands away and turned to the dark fringe of trees bordering the water.  ‘It is hard to see anything,’ he replied.  ‘The sun is behind the trees and the water is too bright.’

‘That will change,’ his companion said.  ‘This afternoon it will open up the edge of the forest – I do not believe it will reveal any dangers, but we need to mark as much information on the maps as we can.  For now, look for the shape of the land and for any streams joining the great river.  We need to pay attention to the amount of time we travel – we have worked out our rough speed going downstream and we can use that to tell us our distance from base camp.’

‘There is more to scouting than I had believed,’ Falas admitted. ‘I had thought it was all tracking – and seeking orcs.’

‘There is not a great call for that these days,’ Vondil replied dryly. ‘We can make a living taking unskilled hunters to chase the big game that hides in the forests, but it is a poor way to spend your days and I do not relish spending centuries acting as the eyes and ears of spoilt city-dwellers, who seek to kill game for pleasure.  I shall be glad to come here.  It has felt like home from the moment we crossed the mountains.’

‘It is the same for me,’ Falas agreed.  ‘You would think that the great productive farms of the plains would be a delight for me – but they are as alien to me as the cities are to you.   I prefer the small market gardens and the harvesting of the forest’s bounty.  Now I know this place is here, I would come even if King Thranduil decided to remain behind.’

‘Which he will not,’ Vondil said. ‘This is what he needs – for himself as much as for his people.’

‘It is the same for my lord,’ Alagsir said softly, their craft brought close enough by the current for conversation to be possible.  ‘He could not be content where he is now – I do not know how my lady has endured it for so long.’

‘She is not a Wood Elf – nor even Sindar,’ Aelindor shrugged.  ‘She lives with the forest, but she is not of it.  The lady will come because Lord Celeborn will not be able to stay away.’

They drew over to the bank as the sun dropped behind the trees beyond the river, turning the long length of the river to molten copper.  A small stream bubbled in surprise as it encountered the force of the water and the strong roots of willows arched above the level of the flow to prove that spring floods had swept their supporting earth away.  Vondil drew the small boat along the muddy bank to take it from the water.

‘Surely we could tie them to the roots,’ Aelindor suggested. ‘They would be safe there.’

‘Probably,’ Vondil agreed. ‘But they will be safer out of the water – just in case.’

As they ate the rations they had brought, they compared the maps they had been sketching and were pleased to find considerable agreement between them on features and distances. 

‘We can add detail as we return,’ Alagsir suggested contentedly as he lay back on the soft moss beneath the trees,  ‘as well as taking the information inland a mile or two from the banks.’

‘Not too far,’ Vondil added. ‘We do not have the leisure.  We are seeking that waterfall that Lord Glorfindel suspects acts as a boundary and getting the information back.’

Falas yawned. ‘This boating is surprisingly tiring,’ he remarked.

‘You can talk,’ Vondil snorted. ‘All you did was sit and draw.’

The farmer grinned. ‘It took a lot of concentration,’ he pointed out. 

‘We had best sleep in the trees,’ Alagsir suggested, ignoring them, ‘just in case anything is out there.’

The days followed a similar pattern.  Without discussion, the two scouts had agreed that they would all be safer if they took charge of controlling the craft and the mapping project was left in the hands of the others.  Aelindor had proved himself to be as skilled with a fishing line as Falas was at identifying the various fungi adorning the trees and they had eaten well without requiring the scouts to hunt.

On the fourth day, Alagsir had found himself a little ill-at-ease as he paddled the boat along the bank.  ‘Is it my imagination,’ he asked Vondil, ‘or do you agree that the water is pulling us along rather more vigorously?’

Falas peered at the river, moving smoothly eastwards.  ‘There is nothing to see,’ he said, ‘but listen.’

‘The force is increasing,’ Vondil concluded.  ‘I would suggest that we continue on foot.’

‘It reminds me of the water above the falls on the Anduin,’ Alagsir commented as his eyes raked the bank in search of a suitable place to direct the boats.  There, ‘he said.

They lifted the boats out of the water, placing them safely among the bushes, and took their packs.  ‘This is too much like hard work!’ Falas complained.  ‘I had become accustomed to the river carrying the weight.’

‘It will get you in training for our return,’ Aelindor teased. ‘You have clearly been taking it too easily.’

It was not a path – it was nowhere near as clear as that, Alagsir decided, exchanging glances with Vondil, yet neither did it feel as if no-one had ever been here before. The trees felt as if they were – withholding judgment.  The presence of elves did not surprise them, yet they were not welcoming.  It reminded Alagsir of visits he had paid to Lasgalen in the bad old days, when the forest was wary of those it did not recognise.

They moved swiftly, climbing as the roaring began to increase in volume until they came out from the trees on to a rocky shelf.  As they looked, a shimmering rainbow of light arched above a break in the rock as it danced in fine mist of spray.  They were drawn forward almost involuntarily.  Turning back towards the forest, they could see a lake of molten silver lipping at the rock wall on which they stood, while facing east the land cut away, dropping as though it had been sliced, and the ear-numbing insistence of the waterfall filled their minds.

‘How close can we get?’ Falas asked, as he continued to move along the ridge.  ‘I want to see it properly.’  He stopped suddenly as the prospect opened up in front of him.

The water gushed out, arcing over the falls, all white froth and spray, plummeting some hundred feet before it hit the first of the broken rock walls that shattered it into dizzying cascades before allowing it to drop again towards the forest below.  Even from this height the elves could see the foaming white water tumbling down the rock strewn river bed to conceal itself once more in verdant forest.

‘Well,’ remarked Vondil.  ‘We have found the point where the river enters the populated lands, but I do not believe we will find it of much assistance.  I cannot see any way in which we will be able to work around this waterfall.’

‘Although that is not a bad thing,’ a strange voice added clearly from some distance away.  ‘At least, we have never found it so.’

As they turned, the scouts were cursing themselves for allowing the apparent emptiness of the forest to let them drop their guard.

‘There is no need for you to go for your weapons,’ the voice continued with amusement. ‘I will not hurt you.’ 

The sight that met their eyes was so unexpected, Vondil conceded, that his weapons would have been of no use whatsoever.  Orcs he was accustomed to fighting and he could defend himself against Men – but he had no defence that would prove effective against the slight dark-haired figure of a smiling elleth.

***

‘What have you discovered for me, Tineithil?’ she asked, bright with curiosity.  ‘Who are these strangers?’

Her envoy bowed his head.  ‘They were surprisingly open, Lady,’ he told her. ‘They spoke of Eryn Lasgalen as you said they might, but they also mentioned Lothlorien and Imladris.  They wish to move to the forest – some among them are clearly Wood Elves, although others are not.  They are not many,’ he shrugged, ‘and they would be welcome, but they seem to be the advance party of a far greater number.  I am not certain that we should encourage them.’

‘That is not what I was asking, my friend,’ she scolded, ‘as you know full well.  The ones with golden hair – who are they?’

He acknowledged her with a grin, but paused before gratifying her. ‘The one who leads them has the light of one who has returned from Mandos, although he would not speak of it.  He called himself Glorfindel.  The other, the one who fell, goes by the name of Haldir.  Do you know them?’

The light faded from her face before she replaced it with an affectionate smile.  ‘I know Glorfindel,’ she said.  ‘He is most welcome among us.  The other – no, his name means nothing to me.’

‘Will you demand that they accept you as their Lady?’ Tineithil enquired.  ‘This is your realm.’

She waved her hand indifferently.  ‘There is space for all,’ she said, ‘and I have no desire to rule.  Ours is a much more relaxed community – and I am no queen among you.’  She considered what little she had been told.  ‘I think I will visit Glorfindel,’ she told him.  ‘Perhaps it is time for us to come out from the trees and make ourselves known.  I am sure there is much that Lord Glorfindel of Imladris can tell me of what I wish to learn.’