The Far Side of the World by SurgicalSteel

Chapter 1

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Two and a half years.

It had been two and a half damned years since they’d set out from Tol Uinen, and they kept sailing east. East, and then south to go around Ras Morthil, and then east again and south again, and east again and north for a while and east. Why in the name of the stars Captain Hendinaer kept sailing east, Cullasso didn’t know…

Well, that wasn’t quite true. He at least suspected. Hendinaer was noble, but he was a mariner, and goodness knew the Queen wasn’t fond of mariners, and she was least fond of the one who wanted to marry her eldest granddaughter. Princess Quindelótë had committed the nearly-unpardonable sin of speaking her mind to the Queen, advising Tar-Ancalimë that the Queen was a wretched excuse for a human being and if this was what ruling Númenor did to a person, she could toss the Heirship into the sea. In an unfortunate bit of timing, the princess had promptly fallen in love with a man who might otherwise have been barely suitable – he was a descendant of Tar-Minyatur’s daughter Tindómiel, and hence of the right bloodline. The fact that he was one of the Uinenedili made the Queen take an instant dislike to him – and coupled with what Cullasso suspected was a mean-spirited desire to revenge the insult given by Quindelótë, the Queen had denied them permission to marry.

And so Hendinaer sailed. Cullasso had sailed with him before, down to those lovely lands north of the Bay of Belfalas where the elves had built a haven, and down as far as that westward-facing firth which seemed to have been designed by nature to be a harbor. Hendinaer tolerated Culasso’s desire to wander in the woods and the deserts and make sketches of every plant and animal they encountered, to expand on the notes taken by Tar-Aldarion’s naturalist, and gave him more time than any other ship’s captain might have given a ship’s surgeon to pursue an interest that wasn’t strictly in keeping with his duties.

There was an orderliness in nature that Cullasso seemed to perceive. Traits that various animals and plants had didn’t seem to be entirely random, in his mind. Oh, they weren’t similar enough to substitute anatomic study of the apes in the far southerly reaches of Middle Earth for those of humans, which was why he still maintained his membership in the guild of anatomists and surgeons – and that guild membership was largely why he’d agreed to come on this journey in the first place. He needed the money.

Guild membership had a price, and not simply the price of occasionally being called upon to serve as an executioner. Cullasso didn’t actually mind the non-public executions – there was a great deal to be learned from studying a human body while it was still alive, grisly as it might seem to others.

There was also the price of having a family. Nistaurnë was lovely, from the intelligent flash in her eyes to the point of her chin to the cleverness of her hands as she worked at the loom or in the kitchen – but they already had three children and she’d just quickened with a fourth before Hendinaer came to Cullasso with this proposition, and offered to pay him in full, in advance, if he came on this journey. Cullasso had needed the money badly enough that he hadn’t really thought about the fact that if Hendinaer was offering payment in advance, it might just mean that he wasn’t certain about returning from this voyage.

Two and a half damned years. He wondered in odd moments if Nistaurë had carried this child to term or not, if it had been a son or a daughter – and he sometimes wondered if she’d like that stretch of land on the Bay of Belfalas better than she liked Armenelos. She’d been miserable the first few years that they’d lived there. She’d loved the sandy stretches in Hyarrostar so much, and when Cullasso had made the decision to uproot them and move to Armenelos, she hadn’t been happy with him at all.

I could live there. I could live there, perhaps offer my services to any other people who choose to live there, roam the hills and forests and make notes about the world around me, and Nistaurë could go back to fishing and crabbing and selling her catch, he thought.

It could be a happier life for both of them. He might talk to her about it if they ever returned…

His thoughts were interrupted by the door to his cramped quarters being thrown open with a bang by an excited-appearing Captain Hendinaer. “Care to explore a bit, Copper?” he asked.

That particular nickname still stung just a bit – he’d earned it on his first voyage because he had copper-colored hair but he’d turned positively green when he’d experienced his first storm at sea – just as copper turned green when exposed to sea air for too long. “I’ll just collect my sketchbook, Captain,” Cullasso said, unfolding himself from his tiny bunk.

“You’re on your fourth or fifth now, aren’t you?” Hendinaer asked. “When we get back to Númenor, you and I should sit down and go through your books. We’ve seen some damned unusual creatures.”

Cullasso made a non-verbal sound of agreement, snatching up graphite sticks and his sketchbook and the broad-brimmed straw hat that one of those dark-skinned women in the south of Middle Earth had given him when his fair skin had burnt in the sun – and the two men climbed into one of the ship’s rowboats along with several other sailors, waited while they were lowered over the side, and then rowed ashore. East. Again. The coastline – damn, it seemed to stretch north and south forever, this must be the largest landmass they’d seen since Middle Earth! The shore itself, well, that wasn’t what Nistaurë would call a ‘proper’ beach, made of countless green speckled stones and pebbles.

“Lovely place,” Hendinaer said as they began climbing out of the boat and pulling it farther up onto the shore. “Can you imagine sunset from up there?” he added, pointing up to the top of steep tall hills that sloped down toward the shore.

He’s imagining watching the sunset with Quindelótë, and the Queen had better never find out what they’ve been up to if he wants to keep his cods attached, Cullasso thought, but his only verbal response was a sort of grunt of agreement, and he pulled out his book and began sketching the coast in this area.

“Jasper, isn’t it?” Hendinaer asked, picking up one of the stones from the shore. “Never seen a beach made entirely of jasper stones.”

Cullasso nodded absently, finishing his rough sketch and then following his captain up a rugged path. What followed had been common enough during this long journey – Hendinaer took the bulk of the sailors with him to look for water and food to replenish the ship’s stores. Cullasso, for his part, would be allowed to wander, although he was expected to be back at the shore within some pre-determined amount of time – sunset the following day had been agreed upon.

He knew the men didn’t quite understand it, but he just wanted to know. Not necessarily one thing, but anything he could possibly learn about any of the lands they visited. He wondered what sorts of people might live here, how they used the plants and animals in this land to survive, what sorts of dwellings they might have. As this first day’s sunset drew near, he found himself marveling at the fact that there simply didn’t seem to be any signs of people out in the open, and the few animals he’d spotted – well, he’d seen all of them in other parts of their travels. Nothing particularly new here, but the black clouds that were forming to the south told him that he’d better find shelter for the night.

As the rain started to fall, he almost stumbled into a cave, and there was something odd about the rain over this stretch of the hills, something…

“It’s salty,” he said aloud to himself, and then was almost sorry that he’d spoken – the shelter was definitely needed for the night, but something about this cave was eerie. He thought he might have to go back out into the strangely salty rain to look for firewood – but his hand fumbled across what felt like a brazier in the dark, and yes, there did seem to be at least one coal in it. Flint and steel soon settled that question – there did seem to be only one coal in the brazier, and the light from it flickered weirdly against the walls of the cavern. Perhaps it was a trick of the light and something about the odd feeling in his gut, but the walls seemed black, as did the floor and the columns…

Basalt, he realized, They must be basalt. He’d seen similar formations in that natural harbor that Hendinaer was so fond of, formations that looked so regular that you’d swear someone must have carved them – and yet, who could have possibly carved pillars of basalt and leave them so perfectly smooth? It must be a natural formation of some sort. He’d love to sit down with a Dwarf someday and see if they knew anything about how such pillars were formed, some combination of temperature and wind and weather, perhaps?

Something about this place was eerie, though. He kept telling himself that it was a perfectly natural cave, that someone must have lived here once and then abandoned it, leaving the brazier behind, and he knew that the bats on the ceiling…

They’re not bats, he realized suddenly. It was night. Bats were nocturnal creatures. They’d be flying around the cave at night, and perhaps out of the cave looking for a meal. Someone had taken bats’ wings and attached them to the cave roof.

Sunrise couldn’t come quickly enough, and Cullasso scrambled out of that creepy, shivery place and back out into the hills. He found himself in a small grove of oddly familiar looking trees and seated himself, carefully making his notes and adding to his sketches…

The trees, he realized, looking at the hanging clusters of golden flowers.

They grow in Númenor, he thought, and that wasn’t alarming in and of itself, but they weren’t native to Númenor – and where they were transplanted from…

The captain needs to see this and confirm, he thought, scrambling back down to the shore frantically, tripping on the slick stones and falling half into the rowboat. “I need you to see something,” Cullasso told Hendinaer, half dragging him back up the rough paths.

“The men and I stayed in an odd cave last night,” Hendinaer panted. “You should see it. Black amber floor, and there was this strange lamp, a little like what the elves bring over from… fuck me blind,” he said as he, too recognized the trees in front of them. “Laurinquë.”

“Which supposedly came from…” Cullasso began.

“Fuck me blind,” Hendinaer said again.

“I think we should leave now,” Cullasso said – and Hendinaer nodded, and as quickly as possible they got the men and supplies back to the ship, pulled anchor, and sailed. South, now, and as they sailed south they came to a place where a plain could be seen through the hills, wide grasslands – and they began to question themselves as days became weeks and they rounded the southern end of this new land.

“If we were right,” Hendinaer said late one night over brandy, “Then if we go far enough north along this land’s eastern coast, we should see…”

Neither of them spoke much of their suspicions. Neither wanted to say it aloud – not yet. And so they sailed north, along a rocky coast with what seemed impossibly tall mountains rising up toward the sky, and then late one afternoon, as the sun set – there it was, one mountain taller than any of the others – and from their ship, they could barely make out what seemed to be a harbor and a pass through the mountains, and they knew that their suspicions had been correct.

“When we return, find your wife and your children,” Hendinaer said. “The ban…”

“We sailed east,” Cullasso protested.

“I’m not relying on that mattering,” Hendinaer said, and Cullasso knew that he might just be right. Safer for them to leave, just on the off chance…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Fifteen years later…

Cullasso had convinced every family member that he and Nistaurë could find that the coast along the Bay of Belfalas would be a lovely place to found a settlement, and they could always send back to Númenor for brides for their sons and perhaps send their daughters back to Númenor for husbands. It was a small port, but the elves would come and trade with them, and once the native men realized that these Númenóreans were not about to deforest their lands or enslave their children, they’d become more friendly and open as well. Nistaurë fished, and sometimes sailed, and they both explored the woods of their new homelands, and very rarely Hendinaer would come up from the settlement that he had founded, farther south, in that spot that seemed to be a natural harbor.

Cullasso laughed when he thought about his friend and former captain, who’d snuck into the palace at Armenelos intending to bring out his lady-love – and who’d ended up with both princesses and several scholars who’d managed to somehow offend the Queen and a damn potted laurinquë sapling.

The sapling had been the funniest thing of all – the plant that had made them suspect, and now seemingly to become the emblem of Hendinaer’s settlement in the south. Quindelótë insisted that the laurinquë seemed to like the warmer, drier climate of that land, and it thrived there as it never had in Númenor.

Much as she’ll thrive more than she ever did in Númenor, he thought, and laughed to himself as he remembered his most recent conversation with Hendinaer.

“We must have been on Aman, at least,” Cullasso had said, “even if we weren’t in Valinor itself. Laurinquë grows in Númenor and in Tol Eressëa – and came from Valinor, it’s said.”

“And yet, Númenor remains,” Hendinaer said. “Whether intentionally or not, we violated the ban.”

Cullasso shrugged. “We got there by sailing east. The ban’s on sailing west,” he said.

An uncomfortable silence fell at that statement. Could it be that easy to circumvent the ban?

And then another thought had occurred to Cullasso, another notion for which neither man had an answer. “Do you think the Valar even noticed that we were there?”

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Chapter End Notes

 

AUTHOR’S NOTES: In this story, I assume that the ‘round earth’ version of the tale written in Myths Transformed is the more factual account of the ordering of Tolkien’s universe – i.e., that the flat earth and the Sun and Moon being derived from the Two Trees is ‘Mannish myth,’ that the earth was round from the beginning, and the Trees illuminated a Valinor which was defended (in part) by the ‘domes of the Valar.’ That material can be found in HoME X, Morgoth’s Ring.

The caves that the Númenórean mariners find: these descriptions are adapted from Tolkien’s original descriptions of the halls of ‘Fui Nienna’ and ‘Ve Mandos’ in The Book of Lost Tales, Volume One. Tolkien abandoned the idea, and so I’ve written these places as being abandoned as a nod to that.

Laurinquë is described in Unfinished Tales, Part II: ‘Description of the Island of Númenor.’