Long Lost Leaves - part II

[Aikanáro]

'I should like very much to hear it,' said Tabrîl. 'It is the songs of that nature that give great encouragement.' She gave him a hesitant smile. 'And I should like also to learn the songs that you know.'

There were, in all likelihood, some songs that only Abasi now remembered, with his people gone as they were. But here, in this strange land, they were both alone, and so she might learn them from him. Tabrîl knew how important it was to remember the songs of those who had passed to the Dark, and she thought it might weigh heavily upon him, to be the only one to know them.

Not only that, but if Tabrîl was truthful, she would take any opportunity to spend more of her time with him, and the sharing of songs was an ideal one.

She settled back then to listen, giving Abasi another encouraging look as she did so.

[Curufin]

After a moment, Abasi began to sing in his own tongue.

"In fields of red our m'haid fought
Against a sun of gold
And of their honor on these days
Are many stories told..."

S'kava ant'ai tev m'haid,
Y'senei trava sa'i
Go'm'had'ara se sha'it
Tvenera r'vai.

There were many verses, speaking of many different m'haid, and the battles which claimed their lives. Abasi could remember each one of them, and the circumstances to which they were added to this song. They had been his brothers, his sisters, his family. And he had see them fall, one by one.

It was the lot of a m'had, to fall. But not in the way they were slain - a brave solitary stand against the cruel butchery of the Orc.

They had stood no chance. The orcs had weapons of cowardice, that killed from afar. His people had mastered the crossbow, although they abhorred it. There was no honor in it, no honor in shooting someone from so far they were not given a chance.

But they were warriors, and they mastered the weapons of the uwindi if they were to be used against them. There was tradition, and then there was common sense, and the Ulman had learned to use them even better than the Orc had. But they were too few and the Orc and the darkness that led them were too many. They had no honor, and hundreds of his people had fallen...

He shook his head as the song came to an end.

After that battle, there had been no more tales of honor. There had been no one left to sing them to.

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl listened, and by the time Abasi was finished her own emotions were threatening to get the better of her. It was not simply that he sang well - it was that he felt what he sang, she saw it in him, and so the plight of these m'haid that she had never known grieved her. They had died honorably, each one that he sang of, but even so, many of the battles, to Tabrîl's mind, ought never to have happened at all.

Some of the verses, however, were of improbable victories, of brave m'haid that lived even when all odds were against them, and one such part told of the m'haidati of the tribe. It told of Abasi himself, and Tabrîl was filled with pride for him when she heard it.

'It is a good song,' she told him softly when it ended. 'A very good song. Your people were honorable, were brave. You-' she looked over, met his eyes, 'you are brave.'

[Curufin]

Abasi nodded.

"I was, and they were. We were all brave, and fought with honor."

He shrugged.

"Every m'had has such songs, of the glory of those who have fought bravely and lost - or fought bravely and met the Dark. To live...to die...neither is more honorable, or less honorable."

He looked over at Barufiniel, who likely was lost. He felt a bit violated, suddenly, by her presence there. By the presence of all of the "Eldar" as they called themselves, who had followed their foolish desires back to the East and had brought destruction in their wake. And yet here she sat, listening to the ancient songs of their people, and feigning interest and sadness in an ancient culture that they had destroyed.

"Uwindi," he called to her in Westron, "do you have any tales of honor among your tribe? Or only tales of woe and stupidity?"

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl blinked at the unexpected insult that Abasi called over to Barufiniel. What did he intend by that, she wondered. Surely he did not mean to provoke her...

It was likely the intensity of the situation, she realized, the strong emotions the songs had clearly drawn out in them both - in Abasi more than in herself, it seemed, and that meant that she had to do something.

'Abasi.' She moved so that she sat between him and the other elf, and fixed her gaze on him. 'You are right, an-m'haid, they are foolish, but this will not solve anything.' She reached out and touched his hand again, lightly. 'Come with me,' she offered. 'Let us walk the borders together.' Ifshe could get him away from the others, away from the uwindi campsite and out into the plains, his anger would fade.

[Curufin]

Abasi's eyes narrowed at her for a moment, then went blank.

"I go nowhere, m'had'i. They have already driven my people to extinction, they will drive us no further."

He crossed his arms, his anger nearly palpable.

[Varnafindë]

Skip chronology, Barufiniel thought. There is more stupidity to cover yet, but we'll do that later.

"There are songs of bravery and friendship, at least," she said. "I'll sing you a song about my great-grand-uncle, Finrod, who was the brother of Galadriel."

With that, she sang a song in Quenya about Finrod and his promise to Beren, about his singing combat with Sauron, and about his death fighting Sauron's werewolf to save Beren's life.

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl knew then that he would not be convinced, and in truth his angry words struck a chord with her too. Their world would be very different if the Exiles had not returned, she would not deny it.

'It is so,' she told him quietly, 'but if she has offended you, say it outright.' She did not see that Barufiniel herself had done anything to offend. Being Noldorin, in and of itself, was not quite enough.

Then Barufiniel began to sing, and if Tabrîl had been puzzled before, now she was doubly so. What sort of elf answered insults with song? With agreement, even? Tabrîl shook her head. The Noldor really were strange.

[Curufin]

Abasi listened, at first pleasantly surprised by the song that Barufiniel had chosen. This Finrod seemed honorable. He kept his bond, even though it meant his death, and Abasi honored him for this. He seemed to hold no fear of death, another mark in his favor. It would not change his mind on the Eldar or the Noldor as a race, but it was good to hear at last that they were not completely devoid of honor.

Then she began speaking of the Song of Power.

Abasi did not know precisely what a song of power was, but he heard the word "wizardry" and "sorcery" and knew at once that this was not within the knowledge of the m'had. These were things reserved for the very highest of the seth'en, and were forbidden him.

"Stop," he cried. "Stop, you go too far. These things you sing of, they are not for the m'had to know. They are forbidden knowledge."

He stood, his hand going instinctively to the hilt of his t'rai.

[Willow Oran]

Haldis had edged closer and closer to the elves as they sang and now, as Abasi cried for Barufiniel to stop her song with his hand to his knife, Haldis ceased trying to hide her presence and stepped between them.

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl too leapt to her feet, just a moment behind Abasi, an instinctive reaction as she thought he perceived some danger. She moved quickly to his side. She too had been enjoying the song, had thought highly of Barufiniel's kinsman Finrod and his actions.

The next section had confused her. Abasi understood it before she did, and it was only when he called out that it was forbidden knowledge that she realized he was right. That was exactly what it was, and she ought not to hear it.

Haldis stepped in front of them then, and Tabrîl blinked in surprise, but said nothing, not knowing what the mortal woman intended.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel stopped singing. She had meant to skip that section, but she had forgotten herself in the song.

"I apologize," she said. "I got carried away - I hadn't meant to tell you about Mysteries. I know that you don't speak of them. Let me just say that Finrod lost the contest and was thrown into the dungeons, where he died killing one of Sauron's servants who would otherwise have taken Beren's life."

[Willow Oran]

"Perhaos we should switch the story now?" Haldis suggested, "If the duel of songs is not to your comfort? The tale of Beren and Finrod has reminded me of the oldest tale of my people. It is the tale of how Emeldir led the remnants of her people out of Dorthonion and how they came to settle in the north of the Misty Mountains. It is a tale of hardships and endurance. There are no mysteries in it, those are in other songs. Would you like to hear it?"

[Varnafindë]

"I for one would very much like to hear it," Barufiniel said. "My great-grandfather, Angrod, lived in Dorthonion and defended it together with his brother Aegnor. They were the brothers of Finrod and Galadriel. Emeldir would have known them."

[Curufin]

Abasi clasped his hands behind his back, removing his left hand from the vicinity of his t'rai. Barufiniel had not been interested in challenge, though it had been offered for her taking, and he admitted he was pleased by this. While he did not hold her in high esteem, he had no desire to fight her.

He retook his position on the ground, and sat crosslegged, giving Tabrîl a brief look inviting her to join him.

He felt even more lost after that encounter, even more alone. They did not understand him, did not understand his offense. They did not understand his people, and he found that he no longer wished to share his songs with anyone but Tabrîl.

He pulled his t'rai from his belt, and began to carefully sharpen it, taking comfort in familiar chores.

After a moment, he addressed Tabrîl in their language.

"The Eldar complain of the society fading, but what will become of ours? Already so many are lost. Tell me of your home; tell me of hope."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl looked from Haldis back to Abasi, a little uncertainly, but when Abasi sat back down, she could tell he was no longer interested in hearing the tales of other peoples.

'Tell Barufiniel if you will,' she said to Haldis in Sindarin. 'I will hear it another day, perhaps.'

Without waiting for the other woman's reply, she left her and sat back down by Abasi's side. He wished to hear of hope, he said, and Tabrîl would do the best she could to give it.

'My home in the forest is a safe place,' she told him, 'and our m'haid has kept it so for many years now. Our people number some few hundred. It is not as many as we once were, but it is enough, and we are close. Perhaps our presence has faded from the world, we do not walk the lands freely as once we did, but we are not a faded people. Merely a hidden one.'

She paused for a moment, unsure of her words, of what she could tell him that might bring him comfort. 'Our in'kasha is wise,' she said, 'and patient, and our m'haidati is good and honorable, and our hall is a place of companionship...'

She trailed off, and looked at him again, hardly daring to tell him what she longed to. She missed her people greatly, and yet even if she had the opportunity to leave now, to return home directly? She did not know that it would be such an easy thing to do, without Abasi.

'You would be welcome there...' she said softly.

[Curufin]

"And your ka'maren? There are children? Laughter and play and hope for tomorrow? It has been so long since I have had hope. So long since I have heard children..."

He trailed off, deep in thought, his eyes jerking up to meet hers when she mentioned that he would be welcome there."

"You...you are sure of that?"

Suddenly his eyes turned a bit darker.

"Tell me of your m'had'ati."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl was pleased that he seemed to be taking an interest in her people, it was a good sign, a sign that he might in fact go with her, someday, if they ever had the opportunity to go back. She enjoyed the chance to speak of home, to tell him of those she had left behind.

'His name is Dathar,' she told him, 'Dathar yon'Dalrai, and he has been our m'haidati many years. His skill is unmatched in our hall.'

She looked away for a moment, lost deep in memory. 'I have known Dathar all my life,' she said, 'he was second to my brother Keshai when he was m'haidati, long ago. I trust him as Keshai did.' She smiled slightly. 'You must not worry about him. I shall tell him of you. Him and my in'kasha both, and they shall see your worth.'

[Curufin]

Abasi frowned. He had no doubt that they would see his worth - they would be blind not to. This was not arrogance, but a simple statement of fact. He was a bit disturbed to learn that apparently she was close to him. That would make what he had to do more difficult.

He would not lie to her about his intentions if she asked, but it was also unnecessary to bring it up when it was still in the realm of the hypothetical. No reason to upset her unduly.

"I am sure he is very worthy," he said softly, and nodded, turning his concentration briefly to the other Elves, before looking back at Tabrîl.

"What do you make of them?"

[Aikanáro]

'Them?' Tabrîl blinked. 'I find them difficult to understand. They are unpredictable.' She shrugged. 'All uwindi are, I suppose. Some of them more than others. Some of them-' she gestured vaguely towards the group of elves, 'are tolerable.'

She had spent more time with them than Abasi had, and did find them intensely frustrating at times. But most of the more difficult and foolish among them knew to leave Tabrîl well alone, and so they did not bother her overmuch.