Círdan's Guide to sailing the Straight Road by daughterofshadows

Introduction & Chapter One - The Straight Road

Read Introduction & Chapter One - The Straight Road

Introduction

The time of the elves in Middle-Earth may have come to an end, but not all have chosen to depart for the Blessed Realm.

Some never will.

But there are those that only wish to enjoy a world finally freed from evil before joining their kin across the sea, and it is for them that I write this book.

Mithlond is almost deserted, and soon, I, too, will depart these shores, and few will be left here who know the way to Aman.

It is my hope that this text will be a guide to those who still wish to sail the Straight Road, even after the Havens have been deserted.

It is not a map, for mapping the way to Aman is nigh impossible. Instead, I hope to provide you with all the skills necessary to safely make the journey to the West.

I have included instructions on how to build a boat capable of surviving the journey, a list of creatures one might encounter on their travels (especially those that should be avoided at all costs) and many more useful titbits that hopefully will ensure that those who set sail will arrive at their destination unharmed. Should you use this guide, I would be pleased to hear from you in the Blessed Realm and receive a report of its usefulness.

 

Wishing you a swift and peaceful journey,

Círdan, Lord of Mithlond, Shipwright

 

As you leave Middle-earth behind, never to return ere the world breaks, there are a few places you should visit at least briefly, because even the lands buried beneath the waves are not without beauty. Without my Lord’s knowledge, a list has been included for your perusal at the end of this text. Take a moment to stand at these shores and sink your consciousness deep into the land one final time. May you have a safe journey and may the wind be always in your favour.
 

Aerchen of Mithlond

 

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Chapter 1 – The Straight Road

It has come to my attention that there might be those among you who do not know what I mean when I refer to the Straight Road.

If this book reached you, I cannot possibly see how you could not have heard of the Fall of Númenor and the reshaping of the world, but since this is supposed to help you make it safely to the Blessed Realm, I suppose it is for the best if I ensure that we are all on the same page.

I will try to keep the history lesson as short as possible, and if you are already aware of the Straight Road, I advise you to continue to Chapter 2 – Basics in Boatbuilding. I doubt the first chapter will teach you anything new.

 

The end of the First Age brought many a change to these lands. Not only had the scourge that was Morgoth been defeated, but his destruction had cataclysmic consequences. Beleriand sank below the waves, and in its stead the isle of Númenor was raised, halfway between Middle-Earth and the blessed Realm.

Men settled on this new land, and for a time, there was peace and happiness across the lands.

There were many great sailors among the Númenóoreans, and they often returned to these shores, bringing news from Tol Eressëa with them, but unfortunately the good times did not last.

They grew too prideful, wishing for what they could not have. It angered Eru and in his wrath, he once again reshaped the world.

A great storm arose, and Númenor sank back into the depths of the ocean. The subsequent loss of life was tragic and regrettable, but what would prove to be far more devastating for the elves was the reshaping.

It might sound difficult to believe, but Arda once was flat, and all its lands were located on the same plane of existence.

And then. And then! Eru sank Númenor, removed the Blessed Realm from our plane, and reshaped the world. And it has been a sphere ever since.

You cannot imagine the confusion this caused.

Centuries of mapping the seas, the stars, wasted! Constellations I had known since my childhood during the Great March, gone from the skies.

We had to begin all over again!

 

Truly, those were some of the most frustrating years of my long, long life. But we managed, even if there were some mishaps along the way.

The first ships to sail to Valinor after the calamity found lands on the other side of the world instead of the shores of Tol Eressëa! If it was the eastern shore of Rhûn, or another continent altogether, we were unable to determine at the time, and it has remained a fascinating mystery ever since.

But that is not where you wish to go, so I shall do my best not to stray too far from our goal.

It took many tries before we finally discovered the Straight Road, and even then, crossing through the void was a terribly difficult undertaking.

There are no winds in the Sea of Stars, only the slow current of the waters to pull you ever onward, closer and closer to your destination.

Be sure to never stray far from the centre of the path! We have never dared to find out what happens if you fall off the edge of the Straight Road, but I cannot imagine it will be pleasant.

So when you sail the sea of stars, the place between worlds, look to Eärendil to guide you across.

I hope to provide you with all the tools and knowledge you need to make it safely to Valinor, but it will be him who will lead you home.

Chapter Three - Creatures of the Sea: Fastitocalon

There are dangerous creatures aplenty in Belegaer.
Let's take a look at one specific one.
Fastitocalon is a poem from the Adventures of Tom Bombadil, and this chapter was the first one I wrote for this fic.

Text in italics are Círdan's commentary on the text provided, plain text are story accounts of Fastitocalon

Warning for Mild Violence applies to this chapter

Read Chapter Three - Creatures of the Sea: Fastitocalon

Chapter 3 – Creatures of the Sea: Fastitocalon

Though I never encountered him myself, many reports reached my ears across the years, the most detailed of which came from the hands of a mariner sailing with the Guild of Venturers (that brotherhood of long-lost Westernesse who often came to our shores).

In blue ink and a shaky script, it reads as follows:

 

“It was late on the fifteenth day of Súlimë in the year 756 of the Second Age, when we encountered the island that wasn’t. It would be the doom of many of my crewmates.

We must have been nearly half-way between the port of Rómenna and Lindon, where we were headed, when we found an island, as lush and green as the heart could desire. It was a most peculiar find, because the island had not been there when we last sailed through these waters.

It was for that reason that our captain was hesitant to make landfall, but many of the men were excited to rest on dry land for a night, and at last he gave in.

It was my duty to keep watch that night, and so I remained on the ship.

Oh, if only the others had heeded the captain's warnings and done the same!

 

That night , as the full moon hung overhead, I stood guard on the deck as was my duty, and before my eyes, I watched as the island shook, once, twice, then dipped, and disappeared beneath the waves, taking my comrades with it.

My scream woke those who remained on board, and though I could see that it broke my commander's heart, we did not look for survivors that night. The fear was too great that we would be lost to the same whirlpool that had taken the island.

But I kept my eyes and ears strained for the remainder of the night, in the hopes of finding a sign that even a single one of my comrades had survived.

I did not see them , but as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the island re-emerged just a little further away from our ship, and for the first time I saw that it was not an island at all, but a turtle!

Never had I seen one as large as this one before. Trees grew on its back, and grass! Truly, from afar it looked no different than any other island.

But alas, it was far more treacherous.”

 

Here the script stops, before it continues in black ink, the writing now steadier.

 

“We reached Mithlond two days ago, and I spoke with one of the elves about our encounter with the turtle island. Aerchen called him Fastitocalon but had little more knowledge to offer about him. As far as the elves know, he is the last of his kind, which must count for something, I suppose.

Still, pay heed, sailor, when you encounter land where none was before, lest you, too, are lost to the wrath of Fastitocalon.

I for one shall never complain about taking the night watch again.”

 

Shortly after, a letter arrived in Mithlond, carrying Aldarion’s seal. The contents of this letter were lost to time, so I cannot give a full recount of it here.

Instead, I will summarise the salient points.

The Guild of Venturers had encountered Fastitocalon again, though the story had already spread, and further harm could be prevented.

The knowledge about this creature, gained both from their encounter, and from what little my people could tell him, would be added to the royal library and shared by the Guild of Venturers, in the hopes that no Númenóorean sailor would ever be killed by Fastitocalon again.

 

And indeed, the guild must have been quite successful in spreading this knowledge for many, many years later, I heard a tale that was hauntingly similar to the mariner’s report, if distorted by time.

And it came from a hobbit, of all people!

Now, hobbits, as you might well know, do not venture to the sea all that often. I have only ever met seven of them, and only one I would call a friend.

The first was Belladonna Took, who wished to see the sea. She sang walking songs, merry tunes so very different from our own music, and collected tales like other people collect silver spoons.

The second was yet another Took. Miss Belladonna’s brother, to be precise, and him I hold dear in my heart.

Hildifons Took wielded frying pans like our warriors wield swords, and when he settled here in Mithlond, he brought with him not only many delightful recipes, but also a treasury of stories belonging to a people that we as a rule have had little contact with.

And one such tale I would like to share with you here. Truth be told, little new information about Fastitocalon can be gained from it, but as our people leave these shores, so many tales will be lost to us, and it is my hope that this one, at least, will survive in our memory for a little while longer.

According to Hildifons, this story has been passed down for generations, likely stretching to times even before Hobbits settled in the Shire, and given the aforementioned similarities with the mariner’s report, I would say it is likely they were in part inspired by these events.

Aerchen transcribed the version given here in winter of the year 2893 of the Third Age.

 

“It begins as all good stories start: in a land far, far away from the Shire, for nothing interesting ever happens there. At least nothing worth telling stories about.

When did this happen, you ask? Well, we usually say a long, long time ago, and leave it at that, but I suppose that might mean something very different for you [ elves ] than it does for us hobbits. So let me think…

I believe my sister Donnamira once mentioned that this story is among the oldest found in the library of the Great Smials. And that is only one of many versions of this tale that exists in the Shire. The Brandybuck version is quite different!

Yes, yes, this tale is an old one. Perhaps it is so old that we told it even before we settled in the Shire. But how much older, I could not say. We do not keep records of the Wandering Days, and the road was no place for writing.

What little we remember about those dark years has been passed on by word of mouth. Secret stories, whispered only when the lights are out and the wind howls outside.

But those aren’t the tales I promised to tell today.

Today, I shall tell you about the Treacherous Turtlefish!

The heroes of this tale must be Men, for sure, because no hobbit would ever be foolish enough to be caught on a ship of all things, out on the wide ocean! The Brandybucks might be daredevil enough to go on boats, but the Brandywine is much calmer than the open sea!”

 

If only he knew that in a few short years, he would be even more daring than those Brandybucks, sailing all the way out to Tol Fuin with us. Though luckily, our own journey was much safer.

“But back to the sailors.  It was big, much bigger than the canoes on the Brandywine, for it was made to sail all the way to the Lost Lands. Perhaps it even came from there! Who knows.”

[ It is likely he means Númenor but I couldn’t confirm it. Hobbit history does not seem to remember the name of these “Lost Lands”, only that they once existed west of Middle-Earth and disappeared long before the Hobbits settled in the Shire and began to keep written records .]

“They’d been sailing for a good long while now and were getting rather sick of seeing nothing but water, when out of the blue an island appeared before their eyes.

 

Now, from what I hear, that is a bit of an unusual sight, since islands don’t usually appear out of thin air, but the sailors didn’t seem to care about that much, for they decided to settle in for the night on the island anyway.

That is when the trouble began. For you see, this was no island at all.

This was the Treacherous Turtlefish!

And when night said, and the sailors had all fallen asleep, it stirred.

It dived.

And as the sailors fell into the water, the Turtlefish feasted on their flesh.

Only those few lucky ones standing guard on the ship survived.

So let that be a warning to you. Do not trust an island you find at sea, for it might turn around and eat you whole!

In fact, just stay far away from the water all the time. Us hobbits and water, we don’t mix too well.

And there you have it ! 

The tale of the Treacherous Turtlefish.

I do wonder sometimes how the story came to us, far away from the sea as we have always been, but I suppose we will never find out.

 

At this point, his audience offered many suggestions as to how the story made its way to the Shire, and the arguments lasted well into the night. I doubt Hildifons expected such a lively debate in reaction to what he believed to be just an old children’s tale, but he took it with good grace.

About Fastitocalon, there is little more to be said, but he is not the only creature unwitting travellers might come across on their journey to the West!

Chapter Three - Creatures of the Sea: Ainur

Yssion = Osse's Sindarin name

Plain text: Círdan's writing
Italics: Aerchen's commentary

Read Chapter Three - Creatures of the Sea: Ainur

Yssion

When the Valar forbade our people from reaching the Undying Lands after the Darkening, it was Yssion who guarded their shores and sank our ships. Many died to his wrath in those years, but rest assured that your ships have little to fear from him now.

Though he remains temperamental, Yssion rarely seeks to harm elven ships deliberately.

It was Yssion who once taught my people about the sea and its music when we still thought we would soon join our siblings in the Blessed Realm. And it was from him that I learnt how to build boats.

Of course I have made many adjustments, improved and tinkered with the original design, but at the heart of it, my ships still look like those very first ones.

But I digress. I have spoken at length about the art of ship building, I shall not bore you with it again. There are other Ainur you should learn about that you might encounter on the Straight Road.

 

If you were hoping to learn more yet about the art of shipbuilding, I apologise, but I could not risk him writing yet another hundred pages on the matter. We have to finish this guide before we set sail ourselves, after all. Aerchen of Mithlond.

 

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Uinen

The Queen of Mermaids, some call her, though I personally have never seen one of these mysterious creatures.

She is the calm to Yssion’s storm, but don’t let that fool you. Should you dare to harm one of the creatures under her protection, her rage is just as terrible as her husband’s.

Stay clear of the coral reefs around Tol Eressëa. You wouldn’t want to invoke her wrath that close to your destination, would you?

Still, more often than not, Uinen quiets the seas instead of rousing them, and for that she is loved by mariners far and wide.

When Yssion’s temper flares and the waves crash across the deck, drenching all who make the mistake of staying up top, pray to Uinen and she will guide you to safer waters.

 

Often, Lady Uinen is accompanied by the sea people. She may only be called Queen of Mermaids, but Lady Uinen counts sea goblins and mermen amongst her followers just as much as mermaids. They are a tricksy, mischievous bunch, these merpeople, but they rarely mean any harm. Greet them politely when you meet them and treat them with respect, and they may very well agree to help you should you drift off-course.

 

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Salmar

You may not meet this particular maia until you reach the undying lands, but that is not to say that you will not hear his voice on the journey.

For it was Salmar who made the Horns of Ulmo, those wonderful, terrible conch shells that call all those who hear their voice westward.

Theirs is the music of the sea, and it is one that lingers deep in your bones long after you have left the sea behind. Once you have listened to it, you will never forget their voice again.

And so Salmar is a part of every journey west, even if you never meet him face to face.

 

It is hard to believe that after all these years, we will finally follow the call. Long have we waited on these shores. Steadfast, trusting that our time will come, too. I hope I will see my sister again when I at last reach the Blessed Realm. There are so many stories I wish to tell her…#

 

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Ulmo

You may not recognise the Lord of Waters when you meet him, for he rarely chooses to show himself with a body like you and I have. Instead, his consciousness is in the water, from the smallest stream to the wide, wide sea.

Even in the darkest years, he did not abandon us, and though his voice may have been quiet, he would lend his aid, if only you knew how to listen.

And so we still sing his praises and ask for his guidance before the beginning of any journey. I have included a few prayers and songs at the end of this book, but at the end of the day, Ulmo cares more about the intent behind your words than whether you adhere to long-established patterns. He knows many languages and will hear you no matter how you choose to speak to him.

 

We have done our best to translate our prayers into as many languages as we found speakers for, but I fear some words translate better than others, and we beg your forgiveness if our songs sound clumsy to your ears. Let me repeat what my lord already said: It matters little how you phrase your praises, as long as they are genuine.

Five Places to visit on the way to Valinor

The final chapter, and we finish off with a whirlwind tour across Belegaer. From ancient fortresses to haunted islands, from Ents to long-lost ruins, this chapter has it all.

Plain text: Aerchen
Italics: Círdan

Read Five Places to visit on the way to Valinor

Five places you must visit on the way to the Blessed Realm

I promised you a list of places to visit before you sail, and here it is.

I do not know who you are, reading this book or why you chose to sail, but I know that the lands you leave behind have shaped you in a myriad of ways.

Perhaps you are an exile, returning at last to the place of your youth.

Perhaps you were one of us, who stayed behind on the Great March, bound by love or duty to this land.

Or perhaps you were born after the Sun rose, a child of war and strife.

Whoever you are, whatever your reason, you are leaving behind familiar lands, never to return ere the world ends.

So do this for me, before you set sail. Do it at home or do it on any of the islands I mention below. It does not matter, so long as you do it somewhere.

Stand barefoot in the grass and let your consciousness sink into the ground. Feel the pulse of the earth, the trees, the waves and commit it to memory. Treasure it. Let the memory nourish you on the long sail west when there is nothing but water for days and days on end.

I wish you safe and enjoyable travels and do come and find me to tell me of your adventures when you reach the Blessed Realm.

Aerchen of Mithlond

 

Did they truly think I would not notice this addition to my book? It is a good idea, and I would have been happy to add it to the text properly, rather than this collection of loose sheafs of paper, but alas, it is too late for that now.

Círdan, Lord of Mithlond. Shipwright.

 

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Tol Himling

Once a mighty mountain with an equally mighty fortress on top, Himring lost most of its grandeur when it was buried beneath the waves. Most, but not all, and that is why it is certainly worth a visit.

Follow the coastline north once you have left the gulf of Lhun. Tol Himling sits about twenty-five miles west of the shore, its stony walls still rising above the rocky cliffs below.

If you come there by night, you will first see the lamps in the windows, still shining even millennia after their makers have died, and their homes abandoned.

Say what you will about the host of Fëanor, but their craftsmanship knew no peers. And so their lamps still burn, a beacon in even the darkest nights.

When the weather is clear you can easily see them from the shore, but as this is a seafaring journey you will go on, the view from the land likely matters little to you.

Long abandoned by any living creatures, be they elves or of a fouler type, Tol Himling offers a safe place to rest for the night should you need it, and an insight into an age long lost. Its walls are full of history, and if you listen carefully, you may hear some of their tales.

 

I remember the day the Fëanorian host first arrived on these shores, a bright flame against the darkness, lighting the candle of hope. Hope that our struggle against Morgoth would soon come to an end. Hope that the Valar had not abandoned us, after all.

Oh what fools we were.

Learning of our siblings’ slaughter, of the countless lives lost to madness, it felt like Morgoth had stepped right into our homes, ruining what little sense of safety we had.

But wounds scar over with time, and elven souls rarely truly die. The candle of hope continued to burn, and we triumphed. Over Morgoth, and over Sauron, and now at last we sail to reunite with our siblings.

And Tol Himling endures, a reminder that darkness and light are always interwoven, and though tragedy strikes, happiness will return one day.

 

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Tol Fuin

Only a few miles further west from Tol Himling, you will find Tol Fuin, the largest chunk of land that remains from what was once called Beleriand.

Dorthonion, it once was called, then Taur-nu-Fuin, when evil took hold in its woods.

I never saw it in its glory days, when the sons of Finarfin ruled there, but I have ventured there many times since the end of the First Age, for the wood there is excellent for ships, and we hoped to perhaps plant some saplings near Mithlond.

These are the things I learnt from my visits.

Some evil sinks deep into the roots, a festering infection that is difficult to drive out.

And: In every dark place, there are those defending the world against the dangers lurking in the shadows.

The Onodrim have persevered even in the face of dark lords and floods. They guarded these trees when the land was not yet named, and they will continue to guard them until the last of them rots away.

Still, I would urge you to stick to the shorelines. Even with the Onodrim guarding the forest, it is hardly a safe place for travellers. And be careful to only collect dead wood for your campfire. After all, you do not wish to draw the onodrims’ wrath!

 

Ah, I had almost forgotten those first attempts to replant the trees of Dorthonion around the gulf. Three times we tried, and on the third, we finally succeeded.

It was only with Lord Celeborn and Lady Celebrían’s help that the trees we had brought over finally took root, growing tall and strong.

We have carefully cultivated them, replanting what we cut down, and so the forest still thrives. Indeed, the ships my people will sail on are made from the wood of Dorthonion trees.

It is good, sturdy wood, just what you need for seafaring vessels. Remember that for your own boat.

 

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Tol Morwen

Now this next islet is not for the faint of heart.

About thirty miles west and forty miles south of the western edge of Tol Fuin lies Tol Morwen, the last resting place of Morwen Eledhwen of the house of Bëor and her children, Túrin Turambar and Nienor Níniel.

Of all the tragedies of the First Age, theirs is, maybe, the greatest, and so it is perhaps no surprise that some claim Tol Morwen is haunted by the ghosts of those remembered here, calling out for their husband and father.

Personally, I have never seen their ghosts, but I still light a candle at the foot of the memorial stone whenever I pass by the island. Maybe one day the lights will guide Húrin home to his family and they can finally be at rest.

Tol Morwen is not large enough to spend a night on its rocky shore, so I will leave it up to your own judgement whether you wish to step foot on it and pay your respects.

I should add though that this is the last opportunity you will have to get off the ship before you reach Tol Eressëa, because from here on out, there is nothing but ocean ahead of you.

You are now leaving behind the boundaries of Middle-Earth,, with all its terrors and wonders, its tears and its laughter, and all the frustrating, wonderful, painfully mortal friends you may have found in these lands.

Writing this, I am reminded that as always in Middle-Earth, joy and sorrow walk side by side, and even though the time draws near that we will reunite with old friends and family across the sea, we are also leaving behind people dear to our hearts.

 

Glirhuin spoke true when he said that the Stone of the Hapless would never sink below the waves of Belegaer, even as Beleriand was swallowed nearly whole.

Perhaps it is the final act of the curse laid upon Húrin’s line, perhaps it is a blessing in return for all their suffering that Morwen, Nienor, and Túrin’s memorial still stands, a reminder of great tragedy and perseverance both.

 

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Númenor

Now, you might wonder why Númenor is on this list, after all, it sank long ago. Surely, you cannot visit a place that is underwater!

And you would be right. But I am not sending you there to step foot on the island.

For you see, when you sail across this watery graveyard, Númenor is still visible under your feet. The storm, as terrible as it was, did surprisingly little damage to the buildings, and so they sleep, frozen in time, beneath the waves.

A monument to hubris and ambition, all its glory preserved just out of reach.

And it is out of reach. I cannot stress this enough. Do not attempt to dive down to the ruins. It might look like they are close to the surface, like your ship could get caught on Meneltarma’s peak, but they are not. You will drown if you try to reach them.

Enough lives were lost to the water here. Do not become another of its victims.

Imagine the grandeur of the island, back when it throned above the waves.

Remember the people who lived here, who tried to take more than they should have and paid the ultimate price for their greed.

But just like their desires were out of their reach, their ruins are now out of ours.

 

When Elendil’s fleet landed north of Lindon, scattered and shaken, but determined to build a new home for themselves, I was reminded of the last exiles who had landed on these shores.

Once again, there came from the west a host that would help turn the tides of war.

And though the aftermath of victory might have made them seem weak, great strength is needed to leave what you knew behind and begin again. I should know, I have done it a few times myself.

And this strength still flows through the veins of Men, even today.

It gives me hope that we leave these lands in capable hands.

 

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Tol Eressëa

Does it still count as being on the way to Valinor if it is on the other side of the Straight Road?

Regardless, I have decided to include it.

Congratulations! If you have reached Tol Eressëa, you have braved great danger, and survived. You have found the Straight Road, and sailed it, and at last you have reached your destination.

There is little I can tell you about Tol Eressëa, for I have never been there, but what would life be without a little adventure?

So instead, I will take this opportunity to present you with my best wishes and say goodbye.

If you have family waiting for you, I hope the reunion will be joyful. If you are struggling, I hope you will find contentment, and if you are hurt, I hope your pains will be soothed.

Never forget that there are always things left to learn, even in the Blessed Realm, so stay curious.

And perhaps we shall meet each other across the sea.

Faithfully yours,

Aerchen of Mithlond.

 

What more could I possibly add to this, except to wish you well?

You will need bravery and common sense for the journey, but if you have survived for so long, I believe you have plenty of both. Bring a friend along for the journey, because it’s easier to sail when you are not alone.

And if all goes well, we will see you in Valinor.

This has been Círdan’s (and Aerchen’s) Guide to sailing the Straight Road, have a safe and untroubled journey, and thank you for reading!

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Chapter End Notes

Thank you for reading from me as well!

Thank you to the mods for another wonderful event, and to my best friend for suggesting that Numenor's ruins could be like those of Rungholt, just off the German North Sea Coast, only far, far deeper in the water.

And thank you most of all to Narya, for the amazing art! It was the first piece in the gallery this year, and I immediately went: That's the one I want.
I'm glad I got it, this was incredible fun to write! I hope you enjoyed reading just as much.