The Book of Short Tales by Lyra

B2MeM '11 - March 12 - The Course of Nature

Written for the B2MeM challenge for Sirion: Elves are one with Nature. What about Men? Hobbits? Dwarves? Write a story or poem or create artwork where the way different races relate to Nature is shown.

Elves are one with nature? Really? Haleth, at any rate, begs to differ...

The Course of Nature

They stood upon a foothill overlooking the mortal settlement, an unequal pair. The man was tall and slender, with long raven hair that flowed freely in the spring breeze. His face could have been called beautiful, had it not given the impression of frowning too often. His riding clothes were made of fine linen and silks in tastefully matched shades of red, embroidered with gold thread and topped by a padded jerkin made of soft deerskin. Any watchers would have glanced at the woman – small and stocky, dressed in leather and undyed wool roughly stitched into garments of uninspired shape, with a plain round face, her darkish hair tied back into a sobre plait – only because of the stark contrast to her companion, before returning their gaze to the more handsome prospect. Only the most attentive of observers might have noted the likeness of their eyes: steel-grey, alert, and filled with the fire of a rash and stubborn spirit.
But there were no observers: He had purposefully left his entourage behind, and her people had more important things to do than to climb mountains. There was nobody to witness how the man ducked his proud head in order to better be audible to the small woman.
"Your people are recovering well, I see," he said in the wooden accent of a Noldo uneager to use the Sindarin tongue. "The building progress is quite impressive."
The woman shrugged. "As well as can be hoped," she said in the rough, halting manner of mortals. "We have worked hard, of course. And no doubt we owe much of the progress to your generous provision of tools and materials."

The tall man smiled. "No doubt. I wonder all the more why you insist on declining my offer of further help. There is so much that can be done, and I can easily spare a couple of people for a while. I can send you scholars to teach you letters and to write down your history. Or gardeners so that you can learn how to grow most of your food, and do not have to go scavenging into the woods anymore! Or you could have craftsmen to build stronger houses and to make better weapons, and to make you fine clothing and dress you properly as a lady..."
"Of course you could," she said. "But we do not need any of your people, Lord Caranthir. Your help with the healing and reconstruction was appreciated, but now that we have recovered, we do not require further help." With a sly grin upwards, she added, "Besides, I do not like your attitude towards nature, and have no desire to copy it."
Caranthir blinked. "Our attitude...? Lady Haleth, what can you mean? We have the utmost love and respect for nature; we use it well, don't we? We plant trees and gardens, we delight in its beauties, we breed and feed beasts – if we behaved like the Naugrim, I would understand your reservations, but that is not our way!"
"What do the Naugrim do that you don't?" Haleth said wryly. "Do you not cut trees for timber and firewood, and dig out ores from mountains?"
Somewhat too hotly for polite society, Caranthir replied, "Naturally we do. But we see so much more! The Naugrim would never go into the woods unless they need timber. But we? We go for long pleasurable walks, too, and see the beauty of the trees. Besides, your people, too, need firewood – and don't you also dig for roots and pluck berries?"

"Naturally we do," Haleth echoed him. "But we go where the berries grow. You dig out the shrub and plant it where you want it. Yes, you plant trees all over your settlements – but would the same trees grow there on their own? You plant flowers in your gardens, but will you not tear out any weed that you do not want? If a willow is growing next to your house where you do not want it, will you not cut it down?"
"No. If at all possible, we will dig out the tree with its roots so that we can plant it elsewhere."
"But you will not leave it."
"Not if it is shadowing the house, or takes water away from other plants – what of it?"
"You have no respect for nature, then. For obviously nature wanted that willow tree in that place, and you should have built your house elsewhere if you do not want it shadowed."
Caranthir stared at her, his eyebrows contracting into a dark frown. "You cannot be serious. Do you mean to tell me that we should roam the woods for food, instead of growing it where it is convenient? That we disrespect nature by planting trees where we can best admire them?"
"I do not mean to tell you what to do, Lord Caranthir. But you do disrespect nature. You see it as something that you are free to control. That is not respect. And it does not end with trees and gardens. What about your letters? Words are something that is spoken, heard, not seen. But you lock them into something to look at. It is nature's way that things are forgotten - but you will pin them down on paper so that they cannot find oblivion. You are free to do so, of course. But you should agree that you are not respecting the course of nature. Otherwise you are fooling yourself."
The elf balled his fists. "I will not be lectured by an unenlightened mortal," he almost shouted. "One look at your people makes it plain how ineffective your way of life is – and yet you presume to teach me?"
"No. But I do not want to be taught by you, either."
"But you need to learn so much – otherwise your people will never grow, will never reach the strength of the Eldar--"
Haleth smiled at him, widely and innocently. "The strength of the Eldar is unnatural to my people. Maybe, then, the ways of the Eldar are likewise unnatural to us?"
Caranthir snorted. "You could still learn them."
"If we wanted to become like you. But we do not. We have our own ways, Lord Caranthir, and although I appreciate your help, as long as I live I will refuse to turn my people into a copy of yours. It would never be a good copy, anyway."
"It would be better than your current state of misery!"
"You are free to think so, of course, but I will not strive to prove you right." Haleth tilted her head, and suddenly she laughed. "But look at you! First you judge what tree is to grow where, and now you judge what nature suits my people. If you think that is love, if you think that is respect, you do not understand what either word means."

That was too much for the proud elf. He took a deep breath, preparing to yell or strike. Then he turned on his heel instead, and marched away with huge steps. The long grass bent under his feet, and sprang back upright when he had passed.
Haleth looked after him with a regretful frown, but the corners of her mouth quirked in an amused smile. She did not try to stop him. Let him run – he would come back. For some reason, he always did.

Chapter End Notes

This is the Haleth/Caranthir story I meant to write before "Strange Gifts" came along. Hurrah, I did it. And lo, my "love" for fanonic generalisations strikes once more...