SILENT: iDhîn i-Gelaidh

SUMMARY: Some time before the rising of Ithil a terrible wrong was committed under the dark of the stars and the song of the trees of a certain Wood fell silent for the shock of it. Now, however, it is time for the trees to find healing and Amroth of Lothlórien has gathered some powerful allies to help him. This story is referenced in my tale Elladan and Elrohir’s Not So Excellent Adventure, Chapter VIII, "Coda".

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"I think we will need help in this, Lord Amroth," Celeborn of Doriath and Lindon told the King of Lothlórien as they sat in Amroth’s study atop one of the taller mellyrn. The two of them were sipping white wine and enjoying the early Spring evening.

"Whom do you suggest accompany us?" Amroth asked the silver-haired ellon.

"Thranduil," Celeborn answered without hesitation.

Amroth gave him a considering look and slowly nodded. "Thranduil would be a good choice, assuming he will come."

"He will if you ask him," Celeborn answered with a faint smile, taking an appreciative sip of the wine.

Amroth smiled knowingly. "If I ask, not you." Celeborn shrugged and Amroth nodded again. "It won’t hurt to ask. I will send a courier to him tomorrow."

"What do you think should be done?" the silver-haired Elf-lord asked him. "I barely had enough power to overcome that one tree that had trapped my grandson. There is an entire woods full of such trees."

"I know," Amroth conceded, "but we’ve ignored the situation too long and that nearly proved fatal for young Elrohir."

"I wish we knew what happened," Celeborn said with a sigh, his expression sad.

"As do I, but unless the trees themselves tell us we will probably never know for sure."

"The Galadhrim tell no tales? Surely there were Elves living here at the time."

"Indeed there were, but the Silvan Elves of Lorinand did not mingle with the Evair who haunted the mountains. No word ever came to us as to what happened."

"Let us hope that we can finally bring healing to the Eryn Dîn. Too long has it been silent. It is time to give it a new name."

To that Amroth had no objections.

****

It was mid-Lothron when Thranduil arrived with a small retinue. He gave Amroth a respectful bow in greeting and the two exchanged the kiss of friendship between two rulers. He barely gave Celeborn a nod. Celeborn did not take offense, knowing full well what Thranduil was about.

"I’ve been thinking about how we might go about rescuing the Woods," Thranduil said without preamble as the three Elf-lords made their way towards the mallorn where Amroth’s study was located.

"What do you have in mind?" Celeborn asked.

"I spoke with some of my own Silvan subjects," the King of Eryn Galen iDhaer said as they made their way through Lothlórien. "Some of the older ones recall that there was a battle not far from here between Evair and Yrch before ever Ithil rose."

Amroth nodded. "Yes. Some of the Enemy’s Yrch were harrassing the Elves of Rhovanion. I remember my adar telling me about a battle raging between the Anduin and the eaves of Eryn Galen iDhaer."

"What does that have to do with the Eryn Dîn?" Celeborn asked.

"Just this." Thranduil stopped his climb to the study to stare intently at the other two Elves. "Apparently not all of the Yrch were destroyed in that battle. It was rumored but never proved that some managed to escape over the river to hide in the Hithaeglir."

There was silence between the three ellyn as they thought of the ramifications of that. It was Amroth who finally spoke, his eyes full of pain. "I think we can guess where the Yrch hid first before they moved into the mountains."

The other two nodded as they continued the climb.

****

It was decided to go to the Woods on the day of Midsummer. "We will need the greatest amount of light available to us to do what we must to succor those trees," Celeborn stated.

So it was that a month after Thranduil arrived in Lothlórien, the three Elf-lords set out alone towards the Misty Mountains and the Eryn Dîn. Thranduil appeared to be relieved that the Lady Galadriel would not be accompanying them. It had been an uncomfortable time for him, having to deal with the Noldorin wife of his kinsman. Celeborn he tolerated, though Thranduil was of the opinion that Thingol’s nephew had perhaps become too Noldorin in his outlook. Celeborn, for his part, accepted Thranduil’s animosity towards his wife as the price he must pay for loving her. Thranduil was not the only Sinda to object to the union; but as a king his people tended to follow his lead and so neither Celeborn nor Galadriel were ever fully welcomed in the Great Greenwood.

Celeborn decided against telling Thranduil that it was Galadriel who had told him that she would not accompany them to Eryn Dîn. "None of you need the distraction," she had said with a faint smile on her lips and Celeborn had no choice but to agree with her. He would have welcomed Galadriel’s presence, for his lady had much power. Amroth would have accepted her, recognizing her worth, but Thranduil’s feelings, wrongheaded though they were, had to be considered.

They rode at a leisurely pace, for the Woods were not far. They intended to reach it by noon. "We can make for the place where Elrohir was injured," Celeborn suggested. "It’s as good a place to start as any."

The other two agreed and by noon they were in the glade where only the previous year Elves had camped and Celeborn remembered how the nearby trees had been shocked with wonder at the presence of the Elves in their midst. Now there was a sense of desolation and... resignation.

"These trees are in deep pain," Thranduil stated quietly as he wandered about the glade. "I hope we are not too late to save them."

"Some, I fear, will be lost," Amroth replied, "but I hope to save as many as possible."

Celeborn pointed upriver. "When I was here last I sensed that the center of the pain that has these Woods enthralled is closer to the waterfalls."

"Let us go then," Amroth said and the three set off for the heart of the darkness.

****

"Here," Celeborn said, pointing to a particular spot in the woods. "This is where the deepest betrayal happened."

The other two nodded, well aware of what the Woods told them. Without another word the three formed a triangle with their palms up but not quite touching. There was silence between them and only the sound of the waterfalls could be heard. No birds sang in these trees, nor were there any animals about, not even the ubiquitous squirrels. This Wood was devoid of any life save its own and there was a sense, not of hatred, but of extreme indifference to the presence of the Elves. That indifference was, for the Firstborn, more terrifying than any overt hatred on the part of the trees for anything that walked on two legs.

The three ellyn’s heartbeats slowed and their breathing became synchronized as they stood there with their eyes half-closed. Then, without preamble, Amroth began to Sing:

     Gûr nîn aníra allen, mell nîn,

     Gûr nîn aníra allen liro.

     Leithio rûth lîn, garo rîn en-glass erui.

     Drego, morn! Gwann’ am mell nîn an-uir.

Then Thranduil picked up the Song:

     No bell, mell nîn, a garo estel.

     Naeg lîn dhrega nan i-dhaw a haur dôl.

     No bell, mell nîn, a liro an glass.

     Pân mae allen, hi a han-uir.

Celeborn took up the final verse:

     Liro, mell nîn, liro!

     Arad dôl a le bain sui Anor.

     Ned le gûr nîn ista en-glass veleg.

     Liro, mell nîn, a no gelir an-uir!

As the Elves sang, the Song deepened and the Light of their Beings brightened almost to incandescence as Power flowed from them and into the Woods. The whole Woods seemed to listen intently and when Celeborn sang the final note, it soughed through the branches like a summer breeze. For a long moment the Elves remained still, waiting. There was an air of expectancy and the trees nearby seemed almost willing to open themselves up again, but their pain was too great and they turned away from the Song that echoed all around them.

The three Elf-lords opened their eyes and sighed almost as one. "I was sure that would work," Thranduil said with a scowl. "I was sure that all they needed was encouragement and welcome. Perhaps it has simply been too long."

"Or perhaps we are approaching this the wrong way," Celeborn offered.

The other two stared at the Sindarin prince. "Say on, Celeborn," Amroth commanded. "Tell us your thoughts."

"What if these Woods are not looking for our welcome but for our apology?"

"Apology?" Thranduil echoed. "Apology for what?"

Celeborn did not answer immediately. Instead he closed his eyes and listened with his entire being. Finally he spoke, his eyes still closed. "Here is where the deepest betrayal occurred," he said almost to himself, "yet the betrayal was not on the part of the trees."

The other two ellyn closed their eyes to better listen to the heartbeat of the trees and to discern whatever message they were willing to impart. "The Evair," Thranduiil said at last. "They betrayed these Woods to the Yrch."

"And since then the trees have refused all communion with those whom they consider to be Gwerth," Amroth mused.

"So what do we do?" Thranduil asked. "We are not kin to the Betrayers."

"The trees do not know this," Celeborn said in a reasonable tone.

Amroth nodded. "Let us search out the oldest of the trees and offer them our apologies on behalf of those who should never have betrayed their oaths to protect these Woods against all comers."

The other two ellyn agreed and they separated, each searching for one of the older trees. Celeborn came upon a hoary elm whose branches drooped in despair. He gently laid a palm to the trunk. "Forgive us, mellon nîn," he whispered. "We regret what was done to you. In their fear the Gwerth abandoned their oaths and failed in their trust. Forgive us and let us be friends once more. I, Celeborn, Prince of the House of Elu Thingol of Doriath, swear this oath to you: Never again need you fear betrayal. The Belain are my witnesses and may they forsake me for all the ages of Arda if I renege upon my word."

Dimly, Celeborn was aware of Amroth and Thranduil nearby. The King of Lothlórien was speaking to an ancient oak, while Thranduil made his apologies to a tall pine. These seemed to the Elves to be the oldest of the trees. There was a long moment of silence while the three Elves waited to see what would happen.

And then...

"What was that?" Celeborn exclaimed. The other two shook their heads, unsure what they had heard. Then, birdsong pierced the skies as swallows suddenly appeared as from nowhere and came to rest in the upper branches of the elm to which Celeborn had spoken. The Elf-lords stared at one another in amazement as they listened to the music of the birds and then Celeborn smiled. "I think these Woods now have a new name."

Amroth and Thranduil nodded. "Taur Tuilinn," Amroth said with a nod. "It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?"

The other two Elves nodded and for a long while the three of them stood in the midst of a Woods long silent and listened with joy as the trees around them sang a song of welcome for the first time in nearly five thousand years.

****

All words and phrases are Sindarin.

iDhîn i-Gelaidh: The Silence of Trees.

Mellyrn: Plural of mallorn, the golden tree of Lothlórien.

Lorinand: An older form of Lórien.

Evair: Plural of Avar: Recusant, one who refused to join in the Great March; equivalent to the Quenya term Avari.

Ellon: Male Elf; the plural is ellyn.

Eryn Dîn: Silent Woods.

Lothron: May.

Eryn Galen iDhaer: Greenwood the Great. It will be another 834 years before a shadow falls on this forest and its name is changed to Mirkwood.

Yrch: Plural of Orch: Orc.

Hithaeglir: Misty Mountains.

Gwerth: Plural of Gwarth: Betrayer.

Belain: Valar.

Taur Tuilinn: Forest of Swallows.

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Translation of the Song of the Three Elf-lords:

     My heart wishes for thee, my beloved,

     My heart wishes for thee to sing.

     Release thine anger, have remembrance of Joy alone.

     Flee, darkness! Depart from my beloved forever.

     Be strong, my beloved, and have hope.

     Your pain flees with the night and morning comes.

     Be strong, my beloved, and sing for Joy.

     All is well with thee, now and forever.

     Sing, my beloved, sing!

     Day comes and thou art beautiful like the Sun.

     In you my heart knows great joy.

     Sing, my beloved, and be forever glad!