Chapter 37. To Sing a Song of Joy

‘Well now,’ Ted said, idly stirring up the coals with his roasting stick, ‘I don’t know that you’ll believe the rest of the tale, wondrous as it is...’

‘I’d scarce believe the first part of it,’ Tolly said, ‘were it not that I held that marvellous jewel in the palm of my hand... so, try me.’

‘Well now,’ Ted said again, and he broke his roasting stick and laid the pieces on the coals to burn away. Tod soberly followed suit, and after a moment Tolly, his brow furrowed with thought, did the same.

‘The little girl and her father rested well that night, in their snug little home, just as they might’ve on any other night. Indeed, the great wood around them seemed quieter than usual, no nightly noises to disturb them, nothing to make their dog get up and walk to the door to sniff and whine, nor to make the woodman rise from his rest to check the fastenings on the shutters and the door to make sure all was secure. There was not even cause for the little one to cry out in her sleep.

‘And the next day, they went out again, and they did not need to go far--the father cut up a largish tree that had fallen for all practical purposes in their yard, and a great deal of good wood it would provide, why, it would make several cartloads by itself, and it was of the sort of wood that sold well in Laketown.’

‘Laketown,’ Tolly echoed, remembering old mad Baggins and his tales that had gone round the Tookland after the fellow disappeared.

‘Aye,’ Ted said, spreading out the coals of the fire. As he continued his tale, the three watched the bright glowing embers wink out, one by one. ‘And another peaceful night followed, or most of a peaceful night, anyhow, for sometime in the wee hours of the morning...’

‘There came a knock at the door!’ Tod said, excitement in his tone.

‘A knock! At that hour! No woodman would choose to go outside his door between dusk and dawning, not in that place,’ Ted went on with a shadowy nod. ‘Now for some reason the woodman felt no fear, yet he started up, feeling as if he were still half in dream; but his little daughter ran to the door, laughing, and pushed at the heavy bar. And before her father could stop her, she had the door open...’

‘And a great shining figure stood in the doorway, tall and proud, his golden hair crowned with leaves,’ Tod added eagerly, ‘and he laughed, and caught her up, and lifted her high as her father gazed in wonder.’

‘It was the Elvenking himself,’ Ted whispered, ‘and a host of fair folk arrayed behind him.’

‘The woodman had often heard the Fair Folk passing by, their horns blowing and dogs baying as they hunted, sometimes by moonlight and sometimes by day, though he’d never seen them...’ Tod said.

‘And he’d heard from his father about the great woodland feasts the Elves would hold, and though he sometimes fancied he could see the glow of fires and the glimmer of torches afar off and even smell savoury meat roasting, as he was returning belated to his home, he always hurried his steps, for he feared the Elves and their enchantments,’ Ted said. ‘And yet, here they were, ringed about his little house, and the Elvenking himself at his door!

‘The woodman rubbed his eyes, thinking he was still dreaming, but the Elvenking smiled and bowed to him, saying, “We are greatly indebted to you, and to your little flower, and would humbly ask that you come with us, for though it is not our custom, we would take you into our wood, that you shall feast with us tonight, if you will...”

‘ “If I will...” the woodman murmured, but the little girl clapped her hands in delight, and whispered something in the Elvenking’s ear that brought another smile to his fair face. “It is decided, then,” he said, and turning away from the door he lifted the girl to his shoulder, as if she weighed no more than thistledown. And though he was but in his nightshirt, the woodman followed, as one walking in his sleep.

‘On they walked, deep into the wood, until they came to a green glade where the turf was fine and soft as moss and torches fastened to the surrounding trees gave bright light to a festive scene. There many elvish-looking folk were sitting round a splendid fire, eating and drinking and singing and laughing merrily. Dressed in green and brown they were, with flowers twined in their gleaming hair and gems of white and green glinting from their collars and their belts, and many of them sat upon sawn rings of felled trees; though none of it was the work of the woodman--he was sure that he’d never been there before.’

Tolly felt dizzy--belatedly he realised that he was holding his breath, and he remembered to breathe. Nearly all the embers had gone out, and the sky above brightened as the Moon smiled down upon the storyteller and his listeners. The hobbit could almost see, in his mind’s eye, the leaf-crowned Elvenking, the nightclad woodman and his daughter, the merry feasters; it seemed to him a scrap of elusive melody floated upon the breeze...

‘The Elvenking sat the child upon his lap, and he served her from his very own plate of silver with gems embedded all round the rim, and he gave her of his own jewelled cup to drink, golden nectar sweet as honey and refreshing as the waters of an icy spring on a sweltering day. Her father drank the wine of the Elves and soon made very merry, indeed, eating and laughing and singing along with his hosts.

‘And then a hush fell, as a fair figure, young and somehow old at once, approached the Elvenking and fell to one knee before him, bowing his head. And the Elvenking stretched forth his hand, and laid it on the golden head before him in blessing, and then he spoke to the guests. “This is my son, greatly beloved, whom you succoured in his time of need. Far from our halls, he was, and unlikely to be found by one of our folk for many a day... I am deeply thankful for your...” ’

‘The wine had filled the woodman’s head and heart, and made him bolder to speak than his usual mien, and he interrupted the fair King! ...to say, “Forgive me, my lord, but I did naught more than any other...” ’

‘The Elvenking but smiled, and turned the child to face his son, and she gladly reached out and was taken into a gentle embrace, and then the son of the Elvenking arose and called for a dance, and bearing the child in his arms he led in a merry revel that made the woods ring with music.

‘And when the dance was done, he brought her back to her father, and there was a jewel hanging from a silvery chain about her neck, and the woodman gaped to see such riches. And when he turned to the Elvenking, the Lord of the Wood said, “It is only a token of our friendship and protection; she may wander in our wood at will and know no harm, and will ever be welcome in our halls. Elf-friend I name her, and when she sits among us she will wear a crown of windflowers as fair as her name.” ’

And Ted fell silent at last, while Tolly sat in silent marvel. When the hobbit spoke, his words came slowly, as if he were more than half lost in wonder. ‘Windflowers,’ he whispered, ‘as anemones that nod and blow on the breeze.’ He swallowed hard, and felt the tears spring to his eyes. ‘Your mother,’ he said, ‘not only friend to such small and insignificant folk as myself, but to kings and their sons...’ And his heart too full to speak further, he sat quiet, listening to the rustling of the leaves on the night breeze, the lonely hooting of the owl somewhere beyond them.

‘Our mother’s heart pines; she would return to Greenwood the Great, to the home of her childhood and youth and early married years,’ Tod said low, ‘but she will not go, bearing not the Elvenking’s gift as if she carelessly lost the treasure.’

‘And so you came to retrieve the jewel,’ Tolly said.

‘Aye,’ Ted whispered, and in the darkness he bowed his head. ‘Do what you will with us, but take the jewel to her, that she may return at last to her first home.’

***

A/N: Though Gildor Inglorion is not of the Wood Elves, the Elvenking’s invitation is modelled on the former’s fair speech to Frodo and Sam in “Three is Company,” in Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien. The Wood Elves’ feast is taken from descriptions in “Flies and Spiders” from The Hobbit by J.R.R.Tolkien. Got to give credit where due.