Círdan's Guide to sailing the Straight Road by daughterofshadows

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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

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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!