The Fairest Vessels That Ever Sailed by Lindariel

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Chapter 4: Sparkling with the Present

Language barriers can be frustrating!  This was a hard chapter to write.  

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Alatáriel picked her way through the trees. This was the wildest forest she had ever walked, and the tree voices were as loud as any she had ever heard. She had only heard the trees this clearly before during her Yavannildi training in Aman, and then only in the actual presence of Kementári. She whispered a prayer of gratitude for the life of trees as she arrived in a small glade.

Eyeing one of the larger trees, she went over to it, then sank to her knees next to it. Sitting on her heels, she leaned forward and clasped the trunk of the tree lightly. She rested her forehead against it and concentrated on listening to its song. Like the pollarded willows she had listened to on the other side of the river, this tree was very happy with its estate: the warmth of Anor, the plentiful moisture, the fertile alluvial soil. But there was something more there, something Alatáriel had never heard from a tree. It felt like gratitude, or perhaps friendship. This tree had a friend. She had never known a tree to have a friend before; in the voice of a tree its awareness of elves always registered as if the elves were fellow, more mobile trees. This tree was aware of someone that it did not recognize as kin, and it was grateful for that awareness. She had sensed something similar among the pollarded willows on the south side of the river, but here in the forest proper the impression was much stronger. What could this mean?

Alatáriel listened for a while, but the tree's song offered no more clues. She unclasped the tree, straightened up, stood up, and found herself looking up at a tree that hadn't been right next to her before she shut her eyes. It was the golden beech again! It was more than twice her height, with smooth grey bark that looked more like skin from this distance, and its leafless branches looked more like arms. The leaves at the top were really more like stalks of grain than leaves, stiff and golden as a coronet, yet supple enough to bend in the breeze. Two deep green eyes flecked with gold blinked in what she suddenly realized was a long and nearly chinless face just beneath the crest of stalks. She started, recognizing the flash of knowledge and quiet joy in them. This tree-creature was awake, and like Alatáriel it knew Kementári.

Looking back into its eyes, Alatáriel stood as still as a stone in the presence of something she had not known could exist. "Alcar i Yavannan," she breathed.

The being opened its mouth and Alatáriel thought she could hear words in the sound like an enormous reed pipe that was coming from its mouth. Her face fell. The being was speaking that ancient Telerin dialect Teleporno and Círdan sometimes used, and she had no idea what it was saying. The sonorous syllables of the ancient tongue sounded even less comprehensible to her when coming out of a tree-creature's throat than when elves spoke them. But they sounded like the perfect language for a tree-being, stirring up vibrations in the air that made all the nearby willows rustle their leaves slightly as the being spoke. She could also sense the "friendship" feeling coming from the trees more strongly. This must be the being that had friended the trees, she concluded.

Círdan dashed into the glade, so silent and graceful that Alatáriel did not notice his arrival until he stopped beside herand held up his two hands beside his shoulders, palms facing the being. He bent slightly from the hips in a stiff-torso bow Alatáriel had never seen before while speaking a few words in ancient Telerin to the being. Círdan seemed to be addressing it by a name, Sminuferne. Teleporno came skidding noisily into the glade as Alatáriel turned to look at Círdan, then back at the being. He came to stand by Alatáriel's other side as the being turned to face Círdan directly, holding up its branch-arms and bending slightly in reply. It addressed him as Nówë.

Teleporno whispered a running translation to Alatáriel as Círdan spoke with the being.

"The trees told me you were here," said Círdan.

"I have been watching you take your harvest from the willows. Your people work quickly but cleanly, taking no more than we agreed of old. I am pleased," replied the being.

"We are grateful you permit us this harvest, herdswoman,"Círdan responded. "These are my friends Teleporno and Alatáriel," he said, turning to them. Alatáriel hastily followed Círdan's lead and bowed to the being, as did Teleporno.

Sminuferne bowed again, looked at their faces, and said "él síla lúmena vomentienguo" in her reedy voice. Alatáriel recognized this phrase as very close to the Falathrin formal greeting. Teleporno echoed the herdswoman's words back to her as Alatáriel smiled and nodded, looking up toward Anor in agreement.

Círdan spoke again, asking "is your mate nearby? We depart soon for Arvernien, and I would like to tell him about our plans for the trees there."

A movement among the trees behind Sminuferne caught Alatáriel's eye. Another treelike being now stood in the shadow of the first few willows at the edge of the glade. Was this Sminuferne's mate? This one was a little taller than her and looked more like a young oak than a beech. Its head ended in stiff grey hair as thick and long as twigs just beginning to bud. Its skin was grey-brown with riven channels all over its surface, and its eyes were brown flecked with the same green as Sminuferne's eyes. Where its chin might have been was a short growth that looked like a thicket of hanging moss. It spoke, sounding deeper and more sonorous than Sminuferne's rippling voice, saying something that sounded like "hoom-hom." Teleporno shrugged as Alatáriel looked at him questioningly.

Sminuferne said "Spangalad does not approve of your willow harvesting. I have had to remind him that he agreed the groves south of the river are mine to tend."

"I will seek his approval for our plans," Círdan promised.

"That is well," said Sminuferne. "You may speak with him. I will take your friends back to the river."

Círdan set off toward Spangalad's position north of the glade. Sminuferne reached her two arms down to Alatáriel and Teleporno. Fresh wonders walk under Anor, Alatáriel said to herself, and shall I not walk with them? She smiled up into Sminuferne's eyes as she grasped the smooth branchlike fingers, turning to walk together back toward the riverbank.  Alatáriel would never look at a beech tree the same way again, she knew. How could a being possibly look so much like she was made of smooth grey beech bark, yet be so warm and pliable to the touch?

Sminuferne said something. Teleporno replied to her and then translated into Quenya for Alatáriel. "She said welcome to Nan-Tathren, friends of Nówë," he said, "and I told her only I speak this language. I told her I would translate for you."

"Thank you! But I do wish I could speak to her directly," Alatáriel replied. "I have so many questions!"

"What are you saying?" inquired Sminuferne, looking from one elf to the other. "That is a speech new to my ears. Have the Elves devised another new speech?"

"Indeed," Telporno told her. "Some of the Elves speak it in the land over Sea where we were born."

"It flows smoothly, not as hurried as the one I speak with you and Nówë. I should like to learn it sometime," she replied.

"Perhaps one of us can help you learn it one day, herdswoman," Teleporno replied. "Today my friend has questions she would like to ask you. May we ask you some questions?"

"One or two questions would not be amiss," she replied.

Teleporno relayed the information to Alatáriel, who squeaked with excitement. "One or two? How shall I so constrain myself? My curiosity is boundless! But I should like to know first why Círdan calls her 'herdswoman.'"

"I would like to know that too," said Teleporno, then relayed the question to Sminuferne.

"From the time of our awakening far to the East our people have watched over the trees and other things that grow," she explained. "We protect them and teach them how best to grow. When the Elves taught us their speech they began to understand us, and now they call us herders."

"They teach the trees?" Alatáriel wondered. "Kementári is the one who taught me the beginnings of that lore. Is this why I sense a kinship with her? Ask her, please, Teleporno, where they learned how to teach the olvar."

Again Teleporno relayed the question to Sminuferne.

"We have received no instruction from anyone about anything save for the Elves teaching us their speech. Since I opened my eyes long ago in starlight I have known how to influence the trees. But now that the golden star has risen, there are many more lively plants in the world. I think I shall be talking to them more and the trees less. Trees are very sleepy," she replied, and then she made a light, oscillating noise that sounded like a laugh. "But my mate loves the slowness of trees. Between us we will talk to all Nan-Tathren."

"But look now," she went on after a brief pause. "Here we are again at the river. You must cross back to your side now. Spangalad will be anxious if you stay on this side. He will think you are here to cut the larger willow trees as you did the smaller ones on the other side."

Teleporno translated again, then asked "may we stay here to wait for Nówë?"

"It would be better if you go," she replied, releasing their two hands.

"As you wish, herdswoman," he replied. He translated for Alatáriel and then bowed to Sminuferne in the way they had learned from Círdan.

Alatáriel bowed too, saying "thank you for speaking with us, herdswoman. I am grateful to learn of your presence in the forest, and I hope we shall meet again when we can both speak the same language."

Teleporno translated as Sminuferne bowed to them both. "Farewell, Alatáriel and Teleporno. I share that hope," she replied, then swiftly turned and strode back into the forest.

Alatáriel sagged against Teleporno. "Alcar i Yavannan," she murmured, "what a miracle have I been privileged to meet!"

"Trees that walk!" Teleporno mused. "And speak, and mate, and talk to the olvar!" He paused. "Is that what you Yavannildi learned to do? To talk to the olvar?"

"Yes," Alatáriel admitted, straightening up, "that was part of my training. Why do you think I have come on this trip, if not to do just that?"

"Is that how you do it? I thought you were just good at seeing how a tree would grow."

"I am good at that too," she laughed. "Now we should get back to the other side of the river. If we pack the horses before Círdan gets back, we can set out without having him be distracted by the packing process. That way we will get better answers from him about Spangalad."

"Good idea," Teleporno laughed. "Last one back has to ride with the latrine shovel," he challenged as he splashed into the river.

"Hah!" cried Alatáriel as she followed him into the water. "That will be you."

 

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Chapter End Notes

Yavannildi -- maiden acolytes of Yavanna (Q)

Alcar i Yavannan -- glory to Yavanna (Q)

Sminuferne -- Slender Beech (in mixed Primitive Elvish + Middle Telerin, suitable for the character's backstory)

él síla lúmena vomentienguo -- a star shines on the hour of the meeting of our ways (Telerin)

Spangalad -- Beard-Tree (Middle Telerin + Middle Primitive Elvish, suitable for the character's backstory)

olvar -- flora, i.e., plants (Q)

This encounter happens when the Ents and Entwives have yet to learn the Sindarin that is spoken in Beleriand. Fangorn and Fimbrethil speak a version of the ancient Telerin dialect they first learned from the Elves. They won't encounter enough Elves to become familiar with Sindarin and Quenya until later in the First Age. By the Third Age, however, the Ents who survive prefer to speak Quenya.

The musical instrument most like the voice of Fimbrethil is the Slavic fujara, but I didn't want to introduce such an obviously out-of-world word into the text.