First Risings From Hildórien by Anérea

First Risings From Hildórien

In my headcanon Men 'awoke' much earlier than the sun and moon, although they lived a much simpler, slower paced life while many growing things still lay under the Sleep of Yavanna. And since mortal memories fade, the First Risings soon became merely the mythical stories of past generations.

Fraiwen is 8 and Awo a sprightly 128 here. (I explain how and why she gets to be so old in another story that’s still developing details!) Although Awo means 'grandmother', she’s actually Fraiwen’s great great grandmother and Saifreth’s great grandmother. But the whole tribe call her Awo and it’s kind of become a respectful term.

~*~

My gratitude, as ever, to daughterofshadows for their enthusiasm and recommendations.

Read First Risings From Hildórien

Little hand in wrinkled one, Fraiwen guided Awo towards the patch of night-blooming star-flowers she’d discovered while foraging near the stream. She knew they were one of Awo’s favourites and was excited to share her find. Stars were twinkling on one by one in a clear sky. The moon was just past full so would only rise above the mountains after the last glow of the sun faded over the plains to the west. They found the patch with ease; the little four-pointed flowers were already open and their intensely sweet scent gave them away. Avo breathed in deeply, a smile creasing her wrinkled face even further. Laughing with simple delight, they sank down into the flowers together, rolling onto their backs to look up at the sky and breathing in the scent as the chorus of night insects accompanied the ever present burble of the stream.

After a while Awo broke their silence. “This scent takes me back to my earliest childhood. I don’t have any particular memory, but my Amie told me that when I was very little I liked to run off on my own and she would find me gathering posies of scented star-flowers and laughing in the starlight, or collecting shells at the shore, singing in tune with the waves. I think I heard the songs of the sea the way you hear the songs of the plants.”

Fraiwen lay quiet for a while, listening. Then she asked, “Awo, Raihlor says star-flowers are called star-flowers because they’re shaped like stars, but their songs sing of starlight, not sunlight like the others.”

“They do, do they? That really doesn’t surprise me. You can tell your cousin they’re named star-flowers because they’re one of the few flowers that bloomed in the Dream Time. Back then they were just plain white though; the tips of their petals started turning pink only after the sun came. Most of the fire-colours only came after the sun.”

“After the sun?” Fraiwen twisted to look at Awo in surprise. “You mean, there really was a time before the sun? It’s not just stories?” Awo nodded and Fraiwen’s eyes widened. “And you… really remember the Dream Time!? How old are you, Awo?”

Awo laughed. “Old enough to have been born in the Dream Time, but young enough to not really remember it. The earliest clear memory I have is of the First Risings, although, since it was talked about so much, over time I think my impressions may have mingled with those of others.”

“Please tell me of the Dream Time and the Risings, Awo? Your rememberries of it, not the usual stories.”

Awo nodded, inviting Fraiwen to nestle against her and she began her tale as the sky above them turned to indigo and the stars twinkled.

“As you know, our people lived on the shores of the Wide Water at the edge of the Great Forest stretching towards the mountains. On the other side of those mountains there,” she said, pointing towards the Orocarni. “I was very little, not even hip-high when the moon first rose, so I don’t really remember much from before, from the Dream Time, but it seems to me now that people did a lot less. There was no time, then; no passing of days and no seasons either. No past or future, just one long now. We simply slept when tired, ate when hungry, and played, bathed, and foraged in between. Although, for little ones only three or four seasons old, that may still seem to be the way of things now! Our people didn’t hunt then like we do now; the Wide Water and the Forest provided all we needed. Indeed, our ritual of giving thanks for all that we eat and use comes from the Dream Time.

“But the coming of the Moon I remember very clearly. I was playing at the shore and the waves were singing a very different song than ever before; it was light and silvery and filled my heart with a feeling I’d never experienced, but I think I’d describe it now as hope. I later learned that many people had run into the forest in fear, but because those of us who understood the song of the waves best—there were many more of us, then, who could—because we heard the comfort and reassurance it offered and were not afraid, those who hid in the forest eventually came out to look too.

“My Atta was one who could feel the music too. I remember he lifted me up onto his shoulders and we turned to watch as the unfamiliar glow over the mountains became lighter and brighter. You see how the sky starts to lighten as the moon gets ready to rise—like what’s happening now, there—and see how the glow outshines the stars so they seem to go out? Well, we know now that it's just the moonlight, but then it was very scary seeing all but the brightest of stars disappear as the mysterious glow grew, as if it were eating them up.

“Then without any warning I saw a flare of the tiniest dot of brilliant lightning on the ridge. But unlike storm-lightning this light stayed on and steadily grew. I thought at first it would grow long and thin, but it became fatter, and then rounded. There were no loud cracks or even rumbling growls; it was eerily silent. But I trusted the waves’ song of love and welcome for this steady lightning, and when the light lifted off the ridge and proceeded to roll across the sky, it seemed to me that the stars were merely gathering together into one bright posy, like a tight bunch of bright star-flowers.

“We joined Amie and my brothers and the others gathered on the beach. I don’t remember falling asleep, but Atta woke me when the star-posey had rolled almost the whole way across the sky, and was scattering glittering stars in a long path towards us across the Wide Water. We had no idea what might come of it as it neared the horizon. People had many different ideas, some curious, some nervous. But in the end it merely slowed, dipped its belly into the water, then rose once again and silently reversed its journey, eventually sliding down behind the mountains. Once its glow had faded all the stars shone once more in their accustomed places, yet the world seemed somehow darker than ever before, darker even than under the cloudiest sky.”

“But it came back, Awo, didn’t it?”

“Yes, and it wasn’t long. As the glow grew again, although some people were still afraid, many more were happy, and even relieved, to see it again. We watched the star-posy roll back and forth across the sky, playing peek-a-boo with the gathering clouds. It was as it began its belly dip into the Wide Water for the fourth time that the clouds above the mountains behind us began to glow with fire-colours: deep dark reds at first like the very last glowing coals, but then they grew brighter as if the fire was stoked, spreading through the clouds above until the whole sky in every direction took on colours we had never seen or even imagined: such pinks and purples, violets and yellow-greens.

“Till then, the land was always lit like it is now, in starlit hues of greys and blues and dusky greens. Only in the light of our fires had we ever seen the warm hues that we just called fire-colour then, but which now are many and varied and found everywhere. In that time of new marvels, the colours of that first sunrise were the most marvellous for me and remain as vivid in my memory now as they were then. And I remember the deep dismay I felt when the sky-colours dulled back to greys. We didn’t know then, of course, but the sun had merely gone behind the clouds that covered the sky. And even though the air was filled with an almost blinding brightness such as had never been seen before, I cried inconsolably for the lost colours. Amie thought it was because I was afraid of the light, but Atta understood.

“It rained gently for a long time, the sky grey and overcast, although for us the world was so much brighter than ever before. I’ve sometimes wondered whether the Great Spirit of the Wide Water brought the rain clouds for us. It was really a great blessing as the naked sun would have blinded our unaccustomed eyes. And the light drizzle also carried a soothing song for our people. Even those who could not hear it could still feel it, and our people walked more in wonder and awe than fear.

“And then came the day it grew dark again!” Fraiwen couldn’t help prompting, and Awo laughed.

“Yes, then came the day it grew darker again. The clouds cleared, and we saw the stars were still there, and the star-posey nearing its home in the West. Only, it was smaller—half a posey, and not as bright. The wonder and awe for the new lights now turned to dismay that they may never return, and I mourned for those precious colours, my hope of seeing them again fading with the moonlight.”

“But you did see them again!”

“Oh yes, I did! To our astonishment the sun rose out of the Wide Water! And since then, as you know, the Sun and Moon have always risen from that side—there!”

As if on cue, the moon peeked over the Orocarni. Fraiwen imagined she was watching it for the first time ever from the shores of the Wide Water, and that the burble of the stream was the soothing song of the Great Spirit of the Wide Water.

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Chapter End Notes

Star-flowers in RL are night-scented gillyflowers, Matthiola longipetalia or M. bicornis. Plain but delicate, with four petals, they bloom in the evening, releasing a very sweet perfume, and are native to Eurasia, growing in hot and cold climates. And found everywhere from Hobbiton to Hildórien, because I say so! ;)

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