Long Lost Leaves - Part III

[Aikanáro]

There was something almost amusing about Blossomshade's description of her, Tabrîl thought. Quite good? She hoped the Entwife was given to understatement. Tabrîl was quite aware of her abilities and the fact that they amounted to rather more than quite good, particularly in a company such as this, where half the warriors scarcely merited the name. She did not suppose an Ent would have the knowledge to tell a talented warrior from a poor one, however, and so she simply smiled to herself.

She suspected Blossomshade had meant well, and so she did not explain why it wouldn't be right for her to ask Radagast unnecessary questions - and unnecessary they would be, for Tabrîl had no intention of seeking out important things. She had learnt that when in doubt, it was better not to look for more information. At home it was different, for Tabrîl would be told quite clearly when something she was curious about was a Mystery, and told that it wasn't right for her to know more about it. But here? Tabrîl believed that Radagast would have no qualms about explaining anything she asked to her, with no regard for what was forbidden. This meant that it fell to Tabrîl, and not to Radagast, to judge when her curiosity was inappropriate, and Tabrîl was inclined to err on the side of caution.

It was not easy, but it did appear to be working, and so Tabrîl did not need to worry about it overmuch. She settled down to finish her dinner, intending to rejoin the group later in the evening.

[Acalewia]

"What if this Guardian, now that her "pets" are free, does the exact opposite. Unless the shadow creatures convince her that we were the ones who freed them, she may be wanting revenge for their imprisonment," Aelfwine said. She had joined Magor and Aerin when her old friend had called her over to them. "And as it was pointed out, we have no idea what the Guardian is,"

[Earniel]

"That too is a possibility," Radagast acknowledged. "And if the creatures have taken a dislike to us regardless of us freeing them, and that dislike translates to the Guardian, we'll be in a nice pickle."

The wizard sighed. "It would seem we won't get anywhere with only theorising. We'll have to move carefully either way. We'll keep an eye open for these shadow-beings in any case. Even if they move against us, their presence may give us a clue to the location of the Guardian and the Ent-wives."

[Earniel]

"That too," said Radagast with a sigh, "also falls into the category 'we don't know yet, but we're likely to find out'."

Some more suggestions and theories were offered, but no new insights into the situation ahead of them emerged, and everyone soon turned to less speculative, and more entertaining topics.

After the dinner, Radagast went looking for Tabrîl.

He considered what he should say. Neither of the two Kindi-Elves had joined his adventuring company entirely willingly, and while their skills could no doubt be useful in the fulfillment of the quest, Radagast was reluctant to command the two in a journey they had not chosen to be a part of.

It wouldn't have been easy even if he tried. Their self-imposed censorship concerning anything remotely magical made it difficult to involve them into anything remotely connected to magic, which -unfortunately- was about 99% of the entire search for the Entwives.

He sat down on a boulder opposite of Tabrîl. He was relieved to see she at least had finished her meal, even though he felt a small pang of guild that she couldn't have finished it in the company of the others.

"Sorry about that," Radagast said to her. "Next time I'll have the decency to let you finish your meal in peace before I start mentioning... mysteries. I shall try to be more considerate in the future."

"However," he went on, "there are a few features I'd like you to notify us of, should you come across them when scouting. These are: a significant rock with three spires, a narrow canyon ending in an enclosed area with a marked cliff-face and any indication of underground caves. I should also like to know if you come across any indication of other people in this area: cold camp-fires, tracks, or other signs they have left behind."

[Midge]

While realising the seriousness of the situation, Magor couldn't help himself. Mmmm... pickles, he found himself thinking. To justify his daydreaming, he asked out loud, "Is anything we do or any skill that we have going to be able to defend us from the Guardian? Or is that one of those things which we have no idea about?"

[Midge]

After Radagast's speech was over, Magor decided that pickles really did sound good. He began asking after some, beginning with Aerin.

"Do you know if we have some pickles somewhere that I could have?" He asked her.
She looked at him. "I knew that you were thinking something odd when you asked that question about what we could do. You wanted some pickles, didn't you?"
Magor grinned.

Aerin sighed. "I'd start by asking Haldis. And just so she knows you're not trying to use her for her pickles, why don't you pre-start by washing something like dishes?" She grinned back at Magor and offered, "Though chores aren't something I enjoy, I've nothing better to do now, so I'll see if everyone's finished so that we might gather up the cooking dishes and pots."

[Midge]

After washing many dishes and putting them in their proper places, Magor approached Haldis and asked. "Haldis, do you know if we have any pickles? They sound very appetizing right now. I would appreciate it a lot."

Aerin stood at a distance, her hands slightly pruny, shaking her head in disbelief at Magor's question. He reminded her of a child asking his mother for permission to eat a cookie. She chuckled and wiped her hands on her tunic and went to care for Glaeren.

[feawen]

Nami combed her horses coat. Nami was not really a horse person but she was glad of the horses effects to transporting her and her fellows. Lost in thought she hummed a slightly off key tune as she worked. It was a slow tune, and lost in throught she at first did not notice the approach of Aerin as she went to attend to her own horse.

[Willow Oran]

Haldis smiled slightly, so that's why Magor had volunteered to help with dishes... She pointed him towards the supply train, "There should be a few jars of pickled vegetables in the largest compartment in the back of the wagon. Don't eat too many, and be sure to save the wax so that you can reseal the jar properly before you pack it away when you finish."

[Amael]

It had been what A'mael imagined was 5 months since she first felt that she was carrying. And it had been just less than a month since Ingwionis and her had left the group on the wings that brought them back home, with nothing to really show for it. It's not how she would have had it, yet there was no other choice. And she accepted that ... for the most part.

Her husband had been tending to political issues within the city. This included the occasional breakup of a bar fight, or the continued harassment the 'leading family' were getting from some of the dissidents. Most of the in-fighting had been caused by purist Elves who did not like the fact that so many easterling families had been welcome with open-arms, although very few of them had shown little threatening behavior in the slightest.

It was night, near mid-summer's eve. It definitely hadn't been as cold as it usually was, even for summer in this far northern sub-desert. A small mountain range stopped the warm air from reaching the village most of the time, but in recent decades the mountain had eroded for some odd reason, and the weather had become warmer over the years.

A'mael talked with her husband once again, as she often did. He was her only shoulder to lean on in a world that was still mostly-violent and not trusting. Her step-daughter was now in Minas Tirith: something having to do with political matters there. She had been often in between Lothlorien, Rivendell, Minas Tirith, and Anfalas for whatever reason. She would be not be returning for a few months, or more. So in this town where she only saw eye-to-eye with a few of the Elves and none of the Easterlings (with her husband being a stark contrast to this), Ingwionis was her only true friend amongst the sea of strangers that popped in and out of the growing city.

She spoke with her husband about the gulf that had formed between them: that she supported the Elves and Ingwionis supported the Easterlings. They hadn't had troubles with this matter until now. "My husband, I do not deny that these folk are peaceful ... for the most part, but why deny the Elves here of the same type of guest treatment?"

Ingwionis raised an eyebrow. "Is this what you believe I think, A'mael? I just simply believe that this will always be the lands of the Easterlings. I was here, along with you, as a diplomat to ease matters between our peoples. And these Elves who call themselves 'purists' are soon to ruin this alliance."

A'mael, caring as she was, offered her opinion towards her husband. "No, it is because among the staff and law of our city, the Elves hold 9 seats. The Easterlings hold 21. The council of 30 is collapsing under misrepresentation. And this is what I think would have our kin so riled up."

Ingwionis hissed, as he often did when he disagreed with something. "A'mael, you know as well as me that it takes 3 to 5 men to do what the Elves can do, and yet these Elves, our own direct allies, would have us fight amongst each other just to get a few more seats. These Easterlings, in their peace with us, have shown us that they can be reasonable, and not wanting of power so much as even our own kin!!"

A'mael hissed back, to satire her husband. "So they want not power, yet they have 21 seats. That is ... counter-intuitive! We must be careful, Ingwionis. We must. I know you are much older and in some ways wiser than me, but even you have shown your weakness. Remember Dol Guldur? The visions? Us Elves are as susceptible to certain 'illnesses' as the men are. Something has clearly dampened your mind ... " A'mael realized she may have offended Ingwionis, but she had no choice but to let him see the light.

Ingwionis simply bowed his head, facing the ground. A'mael thought to herself, "perhaps I have struck a nerve here!" Instead of striking a nerve with her husband, she had simply saddened him. She already knew why: the issue with Ingwionis' father, and the mission that both he and A'mael had failed. And she felt this immediately in Ingwionis. "My husband ... mind your feelings. I did not aim to offend. You know that I know what you do. You have the gift and ability of communication with your father, and I have the ability to feel exactly what you feel. And so you feel that it is ... time."

Ingwionis raised his head, facing A'mael. He said with gloom in his eyes, "perhaps it is time we left for Valinor." She did not expect Ingwionis to say this, so she obviously misread him. "We fought against Sauron, helped the men, and helped to defeat evil so that this world would belong to men. Gandalf, Elrond, and Galadriel ... all that remained of the leadership of the White Council ... all agreed that this world must belong to them now. These Easterlings are no exception, and so this is their land. Not our's, not the Elves, nor wizards. Not even Ents!!"

"What are you saying", in surprise A'mael asked her husband. "The Ents are those which we are tasked to look for, to reunite."

"A'mael", Ingwionis was about to give some hard news as he usually did. "You are young but wise beyond your years, but even you will fade in these lands. We all will. We must go to Valinor, and I must face up to my father. The mission of the Entwives will likely be left up to the race of men ... as all things will. We all have a set time. And these humans have their lives to live now, aside from us."

"And of the Ents?", A'mael asked. "Do they fade as well?"

Ingwionis hesittated. " ...... I am ... afraid that they will ... " A'mael looked at her husband, shocked at what he was saying. Ingwionis continued. "Before you get your suspicions about me, I mean no harm to them, nor to anyone. But it is a possibility we must face. If the Ents are to survive, it won't likely be by our hands, or the hands of wizards or Elves. It will either be the Ents who decide their own fate, or it will be the race of men who decide everything. This is ... not our world any longer."

A'mael's eyes were open wide, still in shock of what she heard her husband utter. But she did agree to an extent. "Ingwionis, is it that cut and dry? We all have to leave? What is your reasoning for this? I know we have more time here. It isn't so urgent is it?"

Ingwionis closed his eyes, deep in thought. "A'mael ... even you must come with me. As a maiden of Galadriel's fading trees, the world has even left you behind. It's left us all behind. We may live in happiness, but not here."

"The question", A'mael demanded Ingwionis. "Answer the question. How long?"

With a couple of tears coming from his eyes, Ingwionis said, "a matter of a few years, I think."

A'mael sighed, in relief. "Then that is a few years we have to do what we need to do here. At least it isn't a day, or a week."

A'mael and Ingwionis held each others' hands across the table where they were sitting. It came to A'mael's mind, as it always did, that her mother was now in Valinor as well. She had left 5 years ago, before the final wars began. She also had a brother in Valinor. And she felt finally that it would not be so unagreeable to see them again.

A'mael had made her decision. "Then we will give this town to the Easterlings, after the baby arrives and we are safe to continue our task to its completion. The Elves will be welcome to join us, though. But, Ingwionis ... you must talk to them, and reason with them. The situation could get ugly ... "

[Aikanáro]

'I shall,' Tabrîl agreed, understanding now why Radagast had wished her to know of this. She would have to be prepared for what lay ahead, as far as anyone could prepare for the unknown. She would, as always, be watchful.

Tabrîl walked back to the campsite, where the others had finished their meal and turned to other tasks. She checked on her horse, and decided then on a whim that the mare was to be named Laktalet. It was a name that spoke of swiftness, and she thought it fitting - as did Laktalet, Tabrîl surmised, as she spoke softly to the horse and told her of it.

She then went to sit by the fire, taking her now almost-finished dayeret with her. A little craftwork would pass the evening well, and she would be pleased when it was ready to play. There were many songs that she intended to teach Abasi, and striking the dayiret to keep time and rhythm would make that somewhat easier for them both.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel felt confused. Although several of the items they had just discussed, had been mentioned to her earlier, this was the first time she had listened to all of it, put together, as it were. There were some parts that she either hadn't heard or hadn't noticed before - and then there was this information from the Seer, which was new to all of them.

Barufiniel wasn't at all sure what her part in the quest might be. Perhaps something to do with languages - she was good at learning new ones fast - but would they need that skill here?

She had already played her part in defending the group, but she was not an exceptional warrior - nothing compared to someone like, say, Tabril. She must be needed for something else - possibly something she wouldn't think of until it happened.

Tabril had sat down not too far away from her, after having spent some minutes with her new horse. A good horse, as far as Barufiniel could tell - she was no expert, but she had seen a few horses in her time. Probably something Tabril had traded with the Ultai.

For a change, Tabril was fiddling with something other than sharpening her knives. What was she repairing - or possibly making? Could it be some kind of instrument? Baru found herself staring, and stopped herself, embarrassed. It might not be very polite.

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl was briefly aware of Barufiniel's scrutiny, but ignored it, continuing with her work. If she remained undistracted, she would finish while there was still enough sunlight to see by.

It did not take her long, and she regarded the new dayiret with a hint of pride. Considering what little she had had to work with, she considered it a success. She struck it with her hand, producing a clear, resonant sound, and causing the small metal discs around the edge of the frame to jingle softly.

Tomorrow, she thought, the songs will sound more as they should.

With the instrument still in her hand, Tabrîl stood, and looked over at Barufiniel. She had asked of the instruments of the Kindi, had she not? This was no kithir, but it was something, and Tabrîl considered indulging her inquistiveness.

She walked slowly over to where Barufiniel sat. 'You were curious,' she stated, and waited for the other woman's attention before she explained. 'This is a dayiret. It is a simple instrument, but an old one. It can be used to keep time-' and here Tabrîl demonstrated, tapping out a steady rhythm, '-or to match that which is sung. It makes the singing, and the learning of songs, somewhat easier, and this I am glad of, for there are very many songs I have yet to teach Abasi.'

Tabrîl passed the instrument down to Barufiniel, so that she might look at it for herself.

[Acalewia]

Aelfwine saw Tabril talking with Barufiniel and smiled. She was glad to see the elf speaking with someone instead of by herself sharpening her knives.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel received the dayiret and examined it. She was pleased that Tabril hadn't minded her staring, but indeed had indulged her curiosity. She tried the dayiret, tapping it a couple of times, and shaking it to listen to the sound of the metal disks.

Then she looked up at Tabril and smiled.

"It's a good instrument," she said. "It looks a lot like what I call a tambourine, although it might not be quite the same. It will indeed be useful for teaching songs - accentuating the rhytm like you can do here, supports the singing, and probably makes the tune easier to remember as well."

She hesitated, and then went on.

"Perhaps you remember what you said to me the other day, that my grandmother's courage ought to be put in song? I tried to make a song about it - I usually just make funny songs, so this was more difficult. I ... I could sing it now, if you would like to hear it ..."

[Aikanáro]

'I recollect,' said Tabrîl as she took the dayiret back from Barufiniel. 'It is unsurprising that you find it difficult. Songs meant only for amusement are different. They are temporary. A song of history must be remembered by others.'

Tabrîl sat down next to the other elf, regarding her with a measure of curiosity. 'Sing it,' she said. 'I cannot offer opinion on it - though my speech may be passable enough in your language, I know nothing of the forms of your songs. Even so, I would like to hear it.'

[Midge]

Magor was just finishing up some wonderful pickles and sealing the jar back when he Aerin sat down beside him.

"Well? Was the work worth the pickle?" She asked, smiling.

"Oh, yes, it was," he answered. "That was just what I needed and I would wash any number of dishes to get more if need be. But don't tell Haldis or she'll hide them from me whenever she wants someone else to do the dishes. Aelf! Do you like pickles? Because I know where they are, due to a little investigative hard work!"

[Earniel]

Radagast considered briefly studying the Dol Guldur papers again after dinner had ended and Magor had quickly volunteered to do the dishes. There was still enough light, the sun was still sinking in the west. But he eventually put the papers back in his bag. He had looked at them often enough now, and doubted any more novel insights would be gained that evening.

Radagast heard Barufiniel starting to sing. He didn't immediately recognised the song, but it was nice. Elves had such pretty voices. He listened with one ear, while his mind wandered back to the Entwife-problem. Teye had helped them along marvelously with her visions, but he still felt uneasy.

Especially the fourth image the seer had described, the one she had said was specifically meant for him filled Radagast with worry. A strange tower, a figure of a woman and the shadowy wind-creatures. Was it something he should recognise? Was it a memory, had he once known her, long ago in a time long forgotten? Or was it yet to come?

[Acalewia]

Aelfwine laughed.
"Are you sharing, Magor," She said with a grin. She remembered all the mischief they had done before he became a Rider. Fun days. And wonderful memories.

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl listened to Barufiniel's song, which in her opinion was quite fitting. It did not surprise her that Barufiniel had done so well with it. She had heard the other woman sing before, and so had expected as much from her, even if Baru herself had not had that confidence.

'It is a good song,' she told her once it was finished. 'It tells the tale well, of the bravery and the loyalty of the people of the city, and especially of your Erûvilon and Arindîs. Your father's mother in partiular...' Tabrîl gave Baru a faint smile. 'Likely I have said it before, but you ought to be proud of her sacrifice. It is fitting for a warrior to give her life to save a child,' she stated, sounding approving.

'And your song,' she continued, 'portrays it well. You should add it to the teachings of your people, so that it is remembered.'