Long Lost Leaves - part II

[Curufin]

Abasi nodded slowly.

"I think that I do not like them. They are too willing to be friendly, too willing to understand. That is not how people are. I cannot trust them. They put me on edge."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I think I should prefer to be here with you. You make sense."

[Aikanáro]

His words did not surprise her. It was only natural that she should make more sense to him than these others, that they understood each other.

'It is our ways that make sense,' she told him softly. 'They do not share them.' She had more reason than that to enjoy Abasi's company. She did not like to think that they only held each other in high regard because there was nobody else worth spending a great deal of time with.

Absently she rubbed at her left arm, through the thick bandages. The pain had dulled now, but her arm was beginning to itch. Tabrîl hoped that was the beginning of healing and not of infection. She would watch closely for signs of the latter, knowing the danger in it.

'But they do not understand,' she said suddenly to Abasi. 'I do not think they can be all that willing to. I would say that they are not, save in some isolated incidences - and I trust the ones that try more than those who do not.' To Tabrîl's mind, the presence of the uwindi was simply something they had to accept, to manage as best they could. There was no sense in trying to alter that which could not be changed.

[Curufin]

"I suppose it is natural, to look at the world through the lense of your own culture. That some are right and some are wrong is perfectly natural as well. The Eldar are a strange culture, a silly one, I think. They are obsessed with their own superiority, and look down on everyone else - especially us, because we were "Unwilling.""

He scowled at the word.

"I do not know if we can ever truly be friends with them if they think such things of us. I think they use the word to keep them from having to truly examine us, and take us as we are instead of how they want us to be. They have seen the Mysteries, we have not, therefore they think themselves superior."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl considered his words for a moment before she spoke again. Friendship, in the true sense of the word, was not possible between them and the others, this was certain. The differences between them were simply too great. That did not mean, however, that there could be nothing but enmity. Not when they were forced to travel together.

'I think the fault of the Eldar is that they do not know how much there is that they do not know,' she said. 'That is why they think themselves superior.'

She shrugged. 'Yet it does no good to list their shortcomings, when the truth of it is that we must remain with them for the moment, whatever we may think of them. They are as they are. Some of them are useful, in their own way.'

[Willow Oran]

Haldis was about to suggest that she and Barifiniel move off so that her story would not bother the others, whose attention had shifted, when she caught sight of the bandages on Tabrîl's arm.

"Perhaps tomorrow evening," she said. "It is a long song and best told when there is an audience larger than one."

Leaving Barufiniel to do as she pleased, Haldis went to stand near Tabrîl, within the elf's line of sight, but not so near as to be intruding on her conversation with Abasi. Hoping Tabrîl would get the message, Haldis waited until the elf glanced her way, then tapped her left arm and nodded towards the her tent, where she had become accustomed to treating the various scrapes and injuries collected by the company, and left.

[Aikanáro]

Seeing Haldis' rather insistent gestures, Tabrîl sighed heavily.

'I think the uwindi seth'en'i wishes me to go to her,' she told Abasi, sounding more than a little irritated by the fact. It would suit her far better to remain with Abasi, but she couldn't quite bring herself to ignore the mortal woman. 'I will return when I am able,' she added, hopeful that Abasi might still want her company when she had dealt with what Haldis wanted.

Whatever that might be. The woman's gestures had confused her, and Tabrîl could not guess at it. She got up, and followed Haldis over to her tent.

'I am here,' she said to draw attention to her presence there. 'There is something that you wish me to help you with?' Tabrîl was aware of the link between them. She couldn't not be, despite her efforts to ignore it - but there did not seem to be anything wrong with it at present, at least not as Tabrîl saw it, and she could not see another reason for Haldis to have signalled her over.

Now that Tabrîl stood so close to Haldis, it could be seen that the bandages on her arm were neat and well-secured, and although it was clear from their link that the wounds still pained her somewhat, she gave absolutely no outward sign of that fact, nothing in her posture or expression to indicate that she had been hurt at all. She looked, if anything, puzzled by Haldis' desire to see her.

[Willow Oran]

Haldis trusted that Tabrîl had tended to her injuries well enough on her own, but motioned for the elf to sit, and when she did not, went over and began unwinding the bandages anyway.

"I just want to check the damage," Haldis said, getting the bandages off and examining the stitches before Tabrîl could pull away. "And perhaps re-set these stitches. It was an awkward angle for you to work at, and it may ache a little less once I've neatened them."

The woman didn't wait for Tabrîl's response but set to work undoing the stitches, re-cleaning the wound and re-setting them, talking at her patient all the while, "and don't try to convince me it doesn't hurt. I've been feeling it all evening. It's an awful nuisance having phantom pain in my good hand. You probably don't mind so much seeing it isn't your natural side, but still, sooner this heals up all right, the happier we'll both be."

Haldis paused to tie off the last stitch, and finally let go of Tabrîl, fetching fresh bandages out of her trunk and wrapping the injury once more. "I won't force it -" she went on, absently rubbing her own arm, and hesitating, "but it's clear enough how you must have sliced your arm, and there's three cuts - I've never seen you miss one throw, much less three - did something happen during your..." Haldis paused, disliking the word for the action it described, "game?" As expected, the word sounded wrong coming from her mouth. Haldis hoped Tabrîl wouldn't take it too badly, and waited for an answer.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel nodded; she agreed that it was nicer to tell a grand story to a larger audience.

Haldis left her, and a little later she went to her tent, soon followed by Tabril. Baru wondered whether their conversation earlier had caused Tabril to decide to confront Haldis in some way - but she guessed not. Tabril seemed to have chosen to accept things as they were, and to see to Radagast as the authority in the matter.

Abasi was left on his own, and he bent over his knife again and carried on sharpening it. Baru wondered whether that moment earlier had been a real threat, when he moved his hand to the hilt of his knife. Would he have attacked her, if she had insisted on continuing her song? She could have kicked herself for forgetting to skip that section. She had never meant to sing it. Now she might never hear whether Abasi thought that the bravery of Finrod was up to his standards of honor. Unless she could try to ask Tabril, some other day.

Perhaps she should just do as Haldis had done, and go to her tent.

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl stood there in stunned silence as Haldis started fussing about with her arm. What did she think she was doing? Did she actually think she knew better than Tabrîl how to treat a t'rai wound? Tabrîl had been setting stitches before Haldis' ancestors were even born. It was insulting. More than insulting, she was uwindi, she ought not to have come anywhere near Tabrîl. If she couldn't have dealt with it herself - and she would have known, were that the case - she would have asked Abasi to assist her, not Haldis.

Tabrîl was so incensed by the woman's audacity that by the time her shock had dissipated enough for her actually do something about it, Haldis was halfway through her ministrations. All Tabrîl could do then was to wait for her to finish, maintaining a stubborn silence despite the other woman's chatter. She was complaining that it hurt her, Tabrîl realized. That was typical, for one of her people, they had never learnt that pain was simply something to be endured, to be overcome.

Tabrîl didn't want to think about why her own injuries hurt the other woman.

'It is nothing,' she said at last, tersely, when Haldis appeared to have finished. 'As you said, I missed. I may go now?' Despite the quietness of her voice, there was a tension behind her words. It was taking a great deal of effort for Tabrîl to keep her temper.

[Curufin]

Abasi felt Barufiniel's eyes on him, and his jaw steeled. The uwindi simply did not know when it was best to leave another alone. How could he expect them to have respect, when they had no honor?

He turned his face to her, his eyes inviting challenge, if she wanted it.

[Varnafindë]

She had been staring at Abasi, Barufiniel realised. She tried to give him a small apologetic smile, and turned around and walked away.

She wondered who had taught him Quenya. He must be even older than Tabril - he had been around when Finwë and the others had left for Valinor? But wouldn't they have spoken Qenya then, not Quenya? Baru realised that she didn't know enough of the old - the really old - languages. But now, who could teach her? Abasi himself, perhaps - but she would be very hesitant to ask him about it.

[Coffeehouse]

On the morning of the 8th day aboard Aladji’s dhow they had arrived at the meeting of the two rivers. The rain had been heavy, and Aladji’s eyesight, not what it used to be, had not seen, until it was too late, the razor sharp rocks hiding just by the one bank of the river. The damage hadn’t been all that serious were it not for the non-stop downpour, which made it virtually impossible for the two travelers to make any repairs even less create a decent fire to melt and mend the damaged nails in the dhow’s hull.

Yet Quickleaf was spirited that he would find his companions. His spirits sank somewhat when he came across the fireplace, abandoned and with the rain without much trace that a host of creatures had stopped by. Examining the fireplace Quickleafs eyes roamed restlessly around, seeing burnt wood, vanishing footprints and then in the thick, black mud the unmistakeable giant imprints of creatures Quickleaf knew could have been no one but the Ents. ”They stood here… but now they’re gone” Quickleaf spoke, a bit sadly.

Having tied his dhow up with sufficient lengths of rope and made a detailed surveillance of the river, both up and down to make sure no bandit of thieves were lurking, Aladji decided to join Quickleaf.
”Your friends, Kvigglif, are not here..” Aladji half-asked, half-announced.
”Alas no Chief” Quickleaf sighed, ”but they were here, yet with our delay on the water they’ll be far off by now. For the very first time the Companionship makes good pace… unluckily for me”
”Kooma thun Kvigglif! You know that your friends have survived the battle. And judging by the burnt wood they had at least enough time to make a decent fire. Which to an old man suggests that they were not in harms way”
”True” and Quickleaf was heartened.
Aladji then kneeled down and looked at the giant Ent imprints.
”And this… is this the marks of walking… trees? Those trees you spoke of Kvigglif?”
”Yes. But they aren’t trees! They are Ents. They are herdsmen of trees. They wouldn’t like being called trees. I tried it once. It wasn’t met with humour.”
”Ehtns” Aladji tried.
”EnTs” Quickleaf corrected.
”EntSS”
”At least you’re rid of that h. Must be your dialect playing tricks on your tongue I guess”
Aladji smiled, and turned around, looked the dhow, at the rivers merging effortlessly into a rustic-coloured stream of silky water. ”And now Kvigglif, where do you go?”
”I do not know, and I would be a fool to pursue the northward way along the Carnen without sword, horse or company. Not in these parts”.
”Then to Dorwinion we go friend! And there, god willing, we will find you transport headed upstream. Up stream, up the Red River towards your companionship and towards the realm of the old Dwarven kingdom… though why they head towards that god-forsaken land I know not” Aladji added.
”To Dorwinion then Chief!” Quickleaf exclaimed.

[Willow Oran]

Haldis sighed. Clearly Tabrîl had taken it wrongly. Ah well. Whatever went between Tabrîl and Abasi, it was none of Haldis' business, and the thoughts that Haldis might have voiced regarding the oddness of having been unaware of Tabrîl enough for the injury and the resulting discomfort to have come as a bit of a shock for the first time in months were too nebulous to make sense as yet.

If the link really had been a bit weaker during the brief time when the three elves had been sharing stories and expressing even the slightest amount of interest in each other's cultures... if that wasn't merely Haldis' imagination working in retrospect, then surely Tabrîl would eventually notice it herself.

So Haldis merely shrugged and said, "As you will. I said I would not force it."

[Earniel]

Branwyn was pondering on his act. He wanted to help by doing something to entertain the Ultai, the trouble was only deciding on what. As a scholar he knew quite a few stories from the Gondorean history. However, the wrong tale, told from the Gondorean point of view, may not be well received among the Ultai. During it's long history, Gondor had often battled with the Eastern tribes.

Branwyn searched his memory but he couldn't remember ever seeing the name of the Ultai among the enemy or vanquished tribes. But that meant little. After all, Gondor had not always been interested in recording the Easterlings' own tribe-names. So it was tricky ground alltogether.

Perhaps he better chose something less delicate, something too ancient to be still capable of causing resentment. He considered the Lay of Leithan. A love story always worked well, and there were battles enough to keep the warriors intrested. He wouldn't dare to preform it in Rivendell, or even Gondor, but the Ultai would probably not be familiar with it.

How would he go about it? Merely reciting it would be dull. He could do a few fun tricks with his voice, to differentiate between different characters. But it still needed some accompament. He had asked the wizard for advice, but Radagast had been sleepy and hadn't been of that much use. Branwyn didn't blame him for it, the wizard was after all an old man, and his act the previous night had been rather impressive.

What had been equally impressive had been Barufiniel's singing. Branwyn knew about the quality of Elves bards, but he was enchanted again each time. Maybe she might be able to help him out. Unfortunately Barufiniel seemed in great demand today. She had spent a long while talking with Tabrîl, afterwards joined by Abasi (much to Branwyn's surprise) and then briefly by Haldis.

Branwyn, not wanting to interrupt, waited his turn. As he saw the group finally disperse and Barufiniel rise from her seat, he rose too and went after her.

"Oh, eh, miss!" He hesitated, realising he didn't really know if she was a miss, or whether he should address her with ma'am. He finally decided on: "Er, Barufiniel, could I speak with you for a moment?"

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel hadn't gone far when someone called her name from behind. She turned around to find Branwyn, the man from Gondor, asking if he could talk to her.

"Yes, sure," she answered, smiling. "What do you wish to talk about?"

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl looked at Haldis a moment longer, a little puzzled. It was not as if there were anything to explain to her in any case, she knew what had happened. It was not as if injuries in the game were something unusual - although perhaps they might seem so to someone like Haldis, she reasoned.

Either way, it was not something she intended to discuss further. She simply nodded and then left Haldis' tent.

Tabrîl decided not to return to sit with Abasi. She was still feeling quite unsettled by Haldis' actions, and it called to mind again her own situation, the power that the mortal woman held over her. The magic she had worked. Tabrîl, needing to clear her mind of these thoughts, went and sat alone, somedistance from the others.

[Earniel]

"First," Branwyn said, "let me compliment you on your singing and your skills with the lyre. It was most excellent. It was in that regard that I was hoping you might be able to help me."

"I was thinking of performing the Lay of Leithan, possibly spread over a day or two. But it needs something more, I figure, and I was thinking of some basic musical accompaniment, such as your lyre. I would only be a few simple themes on the background, but I think they will add much to the experience. And it might be a little easier on your voice if you intend to perform daily."

[Varnafindë]

"Thank you for your kind words!" Barufiniel smiled. "I and my cousin both inherited our grandmother Ealcalinda's musical skills. She was of the Nandor - but I never met her. My cousin was even better at playing than at singing - with me, it's the other way round. I wish you could have heard her playing her grand harp - but I saw her off to the Grey Havens last month ..."

Barufiniel's gaze became distant for a little while. Then her attention switched back to the man in front of her.

"So as we cannot ask her to play, I will play for you instead," she said, cheerfully now. "The Lay of Leithan is a great work of art, and you are right that it will be even better with some musical accompaniment. There are a few sections that should be for voice only, but for most of them a simple background theme is perfect."

She looked down at her lyre, silently hoping that yesterday's repair would be good enough.

"There is a suite which comprises a set of themes," she continued, "and a standard choice of theme for each section of the Lay. Each of the themes is repeated at least four or five times for different sections, and some, like for instance Beren's theme, is repeated a lot more than that. As you see, I haven't put my lyre away yet after today's performance. I could play some of those themes for you right now, if you like."

She smiled.

"You are from Gondor, are you not?" she said. "And you know the Lay - are you by any chance a librarian?"

[Curufin]

Abasi was slightly disconcerted when Tabrîl did not return to her place beside him. He knew that he had done nothing to offend her, but he feared that the same could not be said for the mortal woman.

Rising, he crossed the short distance and sat beside her, far enough away to not be obtrusive. He would not interrupt her musings, if that was what she wished, but he was clearly offering his company if she desired it.

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl glanced up as Abasi approached her. It surprised her a little that he had, but his company, at least, she did not mind. He did not sit too close, she noted, and wondered if she looked half as angry as she felt.

If so, he would surely want to know the reason for it, and that was not something Tabrîl felt it was right to discuss, even with him. Instead, she looked out over the campsite again before turning to him.

'I wonder how much further we shall have to travel with them,' she said quietly, keeping carefully neutral.