The Fairest Vessels That Ever Sailed by Lindariel

| | |

Chapter 5: The Birchwoods of Nimbrethil

On the way into Nimbrethil, Alatáriel and Teleporno learn a little more about Círdan's history.

Teleporno finished tying the trenching shovel to his horse's flank. Baragund tossed his mane at Teleporno with gentle humor, as if amused that Teleporno had lost a second race to Alatáriel, but he held still while this very last item was packed. Then the three horses -- white, grey, chestnut -- bore their riders southwest at a leisurely trot across the gently rolling downs of northern Arvernien. Alatáriel began asking Círdan questions about the tree creatures, Sminuferne and Spangalad, but he seemed only to want to sing. "I will tell you more tonight," he promised, then resumed singing.

 

Teleporno urged his horse close to Alatáriel's and said quietly "he has been master of the Falas for a long time and rarely gets to travel, especially with so small a party of people to manage. I think he wants to enjoy his time off. Maybe we can get him to teach us some traveling songs."

 

Most of the day was taken up with quiet trotting, punctuated by travel songs and rest breaks. They drank from water skins they topped up at every brook or stream, and they ate from saddlebags packed for them back at Eglarest that had made the first leg of the trip in the pack wain. The bags contained a different mixture of foods than they had eaten so far on the trip. The Falathrim made a kind of lerembas Alatáriel had never eaten, and there was plenty of it. It was perfectly fine plain waybread, but it was definitely not made of the same grain she had been taught how to grow in Aman. If only we had had time to finish provisioning Canyalqua, she thought, I could have brought some of that grain here to Endor and made proper coimas. Along with the lerembas there were clay jars of little fishes preserved in oil, messy to eat in field conditions but delicious with the bread. Packets of shelled nuts and dried fruits wrapped in leaves rounded out the meals, with a fair amount of excitement attached to guessing which of the three nuts and five fruits might be in each packet. Whenever they stopped Círdan also pointed out which plants in the vicinity were good to eat. Alatáriel was pleased that she recognized so many of them from Aman.

 

Although it had felt very good to work the harvest, Alatáriel was relieved to have a break from the intense physical labor of the last three days. She ran through her old series of stretches every time they dismounted, and she was starting to see them have a very positive effect. She felt more alert, and she ached much less when she was riding. She felt a little dumb for not having remembered that basic element of her physical training until prompted. She felt like she had forgotten so much about her life before the Darkening that she was not really sure who she was. She had thanked Teleporno earnestly for his example that helped her to reclaim that tiny piece of her former self.

 

As Ithil mounted the star-studded sky Círdan called a halt for the night. Traveling without the caravan of wains or other infrastructure was very different from the last ten days' worth of camping. There was no kitchen to set up, and it took almost no time to rig their single shelter using one short pole and some rope. Círdan and Teleporno had argued against taking any shelter at all on this leg of the journey, but Alatáriel had held out for it as a place for her to be able to meditate. The task ahead of her was going to take more mental focus than she had had to apply to a task in a long time, and while she was preparing she wanted to be able to retreat to an area that would give her at least a little bit of sensory deprivation. Besides, there was still the long rough trip back to Eglarest afterwards. Every little bit of comfort was going to be important, of that she was sure. While the lerembas and fishes were unexpectedly tasty, she expected she would grow tired of living on them, nuts, and dried fruit over the next several days.

 

Their brief labors over, the three sat down to watch Ithil move across the sky. Now singing, now silent, they enjoyed the restful stillness of the downs. After a long period of silence, Alatáriel suddenly said "Círdan, what are Sminuferne and Spangalad?"

 

Círdan drew a long breath. "Nowadays we call them the Onodrim," he said. "Their people seem to have awakened about the same time as we did, in the deepest part of the Wild Wood near Cuiviénen. Like us, they awakened in pairs, except their females awakened first and woke up their males. We did not see them often at first, and they could not speak, but we made friends with them and taught them our language. As you heard, they still speak a very old version of it."

 

"How do they live?" asked Teleporno. "What do they do?"

 

"They watch over the plants, especially the trees," replied Círdan. "They fare widely across the lands, never staying one place long yet always returning to special places they have found. They like running water and often make their dwellings by springs. And over the years they have wandered westwards, not because they sought the Blessed Land like us but simply to meet more trees."

 

"What did Sminuferne mean about the willows and an agreement?" Alatáriel inquired.

 

"The Onodrim always seem happiest when they have separate responsibilities. Each one cares for a specific area and will not readily interfere with another's stewardship. You saw how Sminuferne said the area we were harvesting is hers to tend," Círdan reminded them.

 

"How is it she lets you harvest there at all?" Teleporno wanted to know.

 

Círdan drew another deep breath and let it out slowly, almost like a sigh. "When my people were waiting for Ulmo to take them across the Sea to the Blessed Lands, we ranged all over the shores of the Bay of Balar. We found Nan-Tathren and began cutting down the willows for rope and basket material. Spangalad wanted us to stop and go away, but Sminuferne prevailed upon us to harvest on a schedule so as to give as many plants as much time to grow properly as possible. Spangalad told us not to do that in his part of Nan-Tathren, though, so we made an agreement about the area south of the River Narog, which is under Sminuferne's protection."

 

"Ahhh, now I understand," nodded Alatáriel. "They protect the natural resources from misuse. Most of the groves in the Blessed Lands are under such protection by Kementári and her people. We Yavannildi were trained to garden and protect using those same principles."

 

"Tomorrow we will reach Nimbrethil," Círdan said, "where I will be glad to learn what you have to teach about the methods of the Belain."

 

* * * * *

 

 About midday on the second day of their journey, the grey-green smudge on the horizon to their south began to thicken and resolve into trees. Alatáriel saw ahead an open-canopied forest of silver birches. The trees were 20 or more ells tall, she estimated, slender for their height but very straight and unbranching in their growth patterns. This was going to go well, she thought.

 

When the horses crossed the tree line, she began to appreciate how beautiful the forest was. There were no stray trees of another species. Short golden catkins hung from every gracefully drooping branch studded with tiny light green leaves just beginning to show. Horizontal splits in the bark scarred each trunk; their bark was dark and uneven near the ground, papery and light higher up. Beneath, spiky leaves and stems sporting a crop of blue bell-shaped flowers covered much of the forest floor. Here and there lower patches of broader-leaved plants offered up a miniature firmament of white star-shaped flowers.

 

Alatáriel bent to whisper in Nimroch's ear. Nimroch slowed to a stop, permitting Alatáriel to dismount. Círdan moved to dismount also, so Teleporno did likewise."I think I will walk now, the better to know the forest," Alatáriel said, walking on beside Nimroch. All their horses began picking their way through the forest, up to their fetlocks in the nodding blue flowers.

 

After a few moments of walking, Alatáriel inquired "Círdan, what are these flowers?"

 

"We call the blue ones nildin," Círdan answered. "It is a very old name. I remember them growing in the birch forest where I awoke." He fell silent for a moment, then added "the little white ones are uilos."Alatáriel's mouth fell open. Sometimes she forgot how old Círdan really was, and then he would say something like this to make her remember that he was at least as old as both her grandfathers.

 

Teleporno was less impressed with Círdan's memory than he was relieved that Alatáriel did not immediately try to translate the new flower names into Quenya. If she started calling those blue ones "luininyellë" or something equally clunky, he was not sure he would be able to stand it. But, he thought approvingly, apparently Alatáriel was too taken with the beauty of the landscape to try and intellectualize about it. He wondered if he should suggest she close her mouth, which hung open as if she were trying to eat the sweet smell of the flowers with every step and deep breath. Perhaps he should kiss her mouth closed instead, he thought, and hastily began singing another one of those ancient Teleri songs instead. It was mostly about the scent of a birch forest under the stars, and he wondered whether it was as old as Círdan's memory.

 

The song was new to Alatáriel, but Círdan seemed to recognize it. He smiled at Teleporno and then asked Alatáriel "how will we know we are in the right place?"

 

"The trees will tell me," she replied. "They must be the right size and shape, and they must have aspirations. Not all trees aspire to anything more than growing."

 

"I see," said Círdan. "And you will teach me how to recognize these qualities?" Teleporno stopped singing abruptly.

 

"I shall," she assured him. "But that is the easy part. It will take longer to teach you the other part of it. We shall have the first lesson here, and then when we return to Eglarest we shall practice on your orchards." Then she turned to the right and headed deeper into the forest.

 

Círdan looked at Teleporno uncertainly. Teleporno looked back at him evenly for a moment, then nodded once. Both moved to follow her without a word.

Chapter End Notes

lerembas -- journey-bread (Q)

nildin -- bluebells (Qenya)

uilos -- everwhite (S), the same flower as simbelmynë (Rohirric)

luininyellë-- bluebells (Quenya), a composed word different from the actual Quenya word which was nil

While uilos/simbelmynë is canonically based (at least in part) on wood anemone, JRRT didn't invent any blue flowers for his Arda narratives. That there explicitly exist words for bluebell in Qenya (one of his oldest languages) as well as in Quenya, and that they are the same word, suggests to me that he steadfastly imagined bluebells growing in Arda, even if he didn't write about them. Accordingly, I populated the great silver birch (Betula pendula) forest of Nimbrethil with English bluebells (Hyacinthoides non-scripta) as well as wood anemone (Anemone nemorosa), both of which grow in birch forests and bloom in the early spring.

 

Table of Contents | Leave a Comment