Wednesday, September 24, 2003
He did not note the passing of the night for his thoughts lay troubled and only the rythmic footfall brought hope, If he could find again the path that led them to the hidden refuge, yet he had not found it, it had fallen to the ranger to discover it and he believed now that it was to the ranger they must look for help.
Willow-wand had not been willing to travel at night so the Strongbow had left him at the woods edge, promises given he would return shortly, now he stood a little south of the Limelight River looking out over vast plains of the East Emmet.
He wistled long and low, his eyes scanning the horizon,
"Soon dearheart." He wispered to the small form still held in his arms,
"Fear not for we shall find the way once more. I have not followed you into Mordor nor journeyed back to see you lost."
As he stood waiting he searched in his mind for the memory of the ranger, hoping to find some trace of him in thes vast lands, something stirred, a small hawk fluttered into branches just above his head.
Laying Elnineth carefully on the ground he extended his hand and the hawk flew to him alighting gently.
"We have need of you my friend, fly fast and high and seek out the ranger Bragolath, tell him, . . . ahh no . . . here,"
He quickly wrote a few words on a small page of parchment,
"Take this to him and bid him hasten here."
He watched as the small hawk flew skyward, for a while it hovered until suddenly as if called by an invisable voice it swooped off in the direction of Edoras.
A nicker brought the Strongbow whirling round, a soft nose was thrust into his face as Thindsul greeted his friend. Beleg smooth the horses graceful neck mirroring the enthusiastic greeting.
"It is good to see you my friend, and truely I am in need of your help once more, are you willing?"
At this the dark horse lifted his head, shaking his mane,
The Strongbow raised an expectant eyebrow attempting to hold a stern look at his unwilling accomplice. Thindsul began walking away then turned and with a playful nudge he affirmed that he was more than willing to aid the Strongbow once more.
He was about to lift Elnineth and begin retracing his steps, when he was aware of the approach of another. It was Willow-wand, his slender form shining silver in the early dawn light.
He bowed to the Strongbow then reached down to lift Elnineth, at once the Stronbow reched forward,
"No . . ."
Willow-wand withdrew his hand quickly staring at the Strongbow his eyes filled with hurt.
"I sought only to lift her from the damp ground Beleg Cuthalion, to spare her from the chill of dew laden grasses, for surely there is no heat in her, Why do you not trust me?"
Beleg raised his eyes from Elnineth who he now held once more,
"I am sorry my friend, I did not mean to cast doubt on your thoughtfulness, I have long been her guardian, forgive me."
Willow-wand's eyes sparkled and smiled down at the bright hairerd Elf,
"I understand, it is good she has one such as you to watch over her, her peril would have been much greater and her loss to the darkness assured had it not been so."
For an Ent Willow-wand seemed to be one gifted with much insite, perhaps because he stood on the edge of the wood listening intently to the wind and the river, did they convey to him the happenings in far off places, places like Carahadras, Isenguard or even Mordor. Beleg wodered just how much he knew of his small charge, did he know or was he just gifted at guessing.
Thindsul suddenly raised his head, testing the wind, a few snorts and a soft snicker warned of the arrival of the ranger Beleg was waiting for. Keen, Elven eyes sought him on the southern horizon, he could hear the soft rhythm of hoofbeats across the plain and soon he could see the outline of the rapidly approaching figure.
Willow-wand had not been willing to travel at night so the Strongbow had left him at the woods edge, promises given he would return shortly, now he stood a little south of the Limelight River looking out over vast plains of the East Emmet.
He wistled long and low, his eyes scanning the horizon,
"Soon dearheart." He wispered to the small form still held in his arms,
"Fear not for we shall find the way once more. I have not followed you into Mordor nor journeyed back to see you lost."
As he stood waiting he searched in his mind for the memory of the ranger, hoping to find some trace of him in thes vast lands, something stirred, a small hawk fluttered into branches just above his head.
Laying Elnineth carefully on the ground he extended his hand and the hawk flew to him alighting gently.
"We have need of you my friend, fly fast and high and seek out the ranger Bragolath, tell him, . . . ahh no . . . here,"
He quickly wrote a few words on a small page of parchment,
"Take this to him and bid him hasten here."
He watched as the small hawk flew skyward, for a while it hovered until suddenly as if called by an invisable voice it swooped off in the direction of Edoras.
A nicker brought the Strongbow whirling round, a soft nose was thrust into his face as Thindsul greeted his friend. Beleg smooth the horses graceful neck mirroring the enthusiastic greeting.
"It is good to see you my friend, and truely I am in need of your help once more, are you willing?"
At this the dark horse lifted his head, shaking his mane,
The Strongbow raised an expectant eyebrow attempting to hold a stern look at his unwilling accomplice. Thindsul began walking away then turned and with a playful nudge he affirmed that he was more than willing to aid the Strongbow once more.
He was about to lift Elnineth and begin retracing his steps, when he was aware of the approach of another. It was Willow-wand, his slender form shining silver in the early dawn light.
He bowed to the Strongbow then reached down to lift Elnineth, at once the Stronbow reched forward,
"No . . ."
Willow-wand withdrew his hand quickly staring at the Strongbow his eyes filled with hurt.
"I sought only to lift her from the damp ground Beleg Cuthalion, to spare her from the chill of dew laden grasses, for surely there is no heat in her, Why do you not trust me?"
Beleg raised his eyes from Elnineth who he now held once more,
"I am sorry my friend, I did not mean to cast doubt on your thoughtfulness, I have long been her guardian, forgive me."
Willow-wand's eyes sparkled and smiled down at the bright hairerd Elf,
"I understand, it is good she has one such as you to watch over her, her peril would have been much greater and her loss to the darkness assured had it not been so."
For an Ent Willow-wand seemed to be one gifted with much insite, perhaps because he stood on the edge of the wood listening intently to the wind and the river, did they convey to him the happenings in far off places, places like Carahadras, Isenguard or even Mordor. Beleg wodered just how much he knew of his small charge, did he know or was he just gifted at guessing.
Thindsul suddenly raised his head, testing the wind, a few snorts and a soft snicker warned of the arrival of the ranger Beleg was waiting for. Keen, Elven eyes sought him on the southern horizon, he could hear the soft rhythm of hoofbeats across the plain and soon he could see the outline of the rapidly approaching figure.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
I am lying in the Strongbows arms as he sings to me, though I can scarce hear his voice through this great darkness, I try to reach for it. It is my hope, but like the stars light it is far away, beyond the hands of any mortal. I feel myself sinking back for a moment, despair lies heavly upon me forcing me down, I taste the bitterness of those dark eddies and it forces me to sturggle anew. I will not be quenched.
Willow-wand an Ent of fangorn had newly awoken to find a great evil within his realm, he would not allow it to remain there for he had already seen the destruction of much that he held sacred, friends lost to blade and fire. Long lives cut new life stifled below poisoned air and heavy foot fall. Finding The Elf already battling the Dark power he had at once stepped in and between them and his charges, the great oaks they had driven it back.
When the darkness left he precieved a small child lying upon the ground, carefully lifting her he had placed her in the Elf's arms. Now with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety he watched as the Elf sang. His words were short and sweet, a tender lament, the air itself seemed filled with sorrow rain drops dripping from the sky as if it were weeping at her passing. Yet the Ent was not sure she was truely gone.
"Horummm, Hurrummm, I think your sorrows be too hasty young Elf, would you weep before she is truely gone? A spark lingers yet and therefore hope must remain, Would that the Entwives were here for they have within them the powers of renewal, for sure does the forest not bloom eternally, yet by them new growth and fruitfulness abound . . .
The Ent continued to extol the virtues of the Entwives and of the season of spring. Beleg had long stopped listening, the mention of the Entwives had set him thinking, trying to remember he shut his eyes momentarilly, hope was winging its way back into his heart, He knew the Entwives they had met them nigh on a year ago, could it be that their chance meeting would be her salvation.
"The Entwives!" his voice barely a whisper then louder trying to get the Ents attention.
"Horrrum hurrrum alas they are gone, all gone, for none now remember them hurrrummm, they have faded from . . . " Willow-wands voice trembled as if shaken by some great wind.
"No it is not so." Belegs bright blue eyes shone with renewed hope as he struggled to his feet,
"Not gone, at least not all gone, for we have met them this past year"
"Hurr... you have!" The Ents shock stifled further comment.
For a few minutes he waved his great limbs aloft his eyes blinking furiously as he struggled with the news that Entwives still dwelt in Middle Earth. All these long years he had feared that only Ents remained, without their mates only sorrows and memories had filled their thoughts. They stayed lest they be totally forgotten, and now . . . now this young Elf had arrived bringing word that their sorrows have been unfounded, that Entwives surrvived. He could not contain his joy and with great lumbering leaps he danced around the clearing , the Strongbow having to duck and dodge as his great limbs barely missed him.
Something else was happening , something he had forgotten in the long years of solitude, with some amazement he felt the thrill of sap rising through his trunk, he stood stunned for a moment and then as it crested within his woody limbs new buds suddenly burst open in an explosion of fresh greens. The Ent turned to face the Strongbow, who at first smiled gently at the Ents obvious joy, then with some disgust at the sappy trickles down his bark, even so he could not begrudge the Ent his happiness.
The Strongbows thoughts returned to his charge, lying unconcious in his arms. He knew at once what they must do.
"We must journey back to the Entwives hidden Valley, for therein we may find the means to save Elnineth." He looked at Willow-wand who was busy trying to clean his sticky bark, moss now covering the evidence of his excited state.
"If you go then . . hurrum . . . I will go with you young Elf . . . humm horrum . . .for I am to learn this place where our wives have kept safe. Great tales will be told . . . horrumm . . . of the Elf and the small one . . . "
Again he drifted into a long dialogue, only part of which the Strongbow heard for he was busy gathering together their belongings. When all was ready he stood for a moment, then taking heed of his barings he turned towards the east and headed towards the edge of the forest.
Willow-wand an Ent of fangorn had newly awoken to find a great evil within his realm, he would not allow it to remain there for he had already seen the destruction of much that he held sacred, friends lost to blade and fire. Long lives cut new life stifled below poisoned air and heavy foot fall. Finding The Elf already battling the Dark power he had at once stepped in and between them and his charges, the great oaks they had driven it back.
When the darkness left he precieved a small child lying upon the ground, carefully lifting her he had placed her in the Elf's arms. Now with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety he watched as the Elf sang. His words were short and sweet, a tender lament, the air itself seemed filled with sorrow rain drops dripping from the sky as if it were weeping at her passing. Yet the Ent was not sure she was truely gone.
"Horummm, Hurrummm, I think your sorrows be too hasty young Elf, would you weep before she is truely gone? A spark lingers yet and therefore hope must remain, Would that the Entwives were here for they have within them the powers of renewal, for sure does the forest not bloom eternally, yet by them new growth and fruitfulness abound . . .
The Ent continued to extol the virtues of the Entwives and of the season of spring. Beleg had long stopped listening, the mention of the Entwives had set him thinking, trying to remember he shut his eyes momentarilly, hope was winging its way back into his heart, He knew the Entwives they had met them nigh on a year ago, could it be that their chance meeting would be her salvation.
"The Entwives!" his voice barely a whisper then louder trying to get the Ents attention.
"Horrrum hurrrum alas they are gone, all gone, for none now remember them hurrrummm, they have faded from . . . " Willow-wands voice trembled as if shaken by some great wind.
"No it is not so." Belegs bright blue eyes shone with renewed hope as he struggled to his feet,
"Not gone, at least not all gone, for we have met them this past year"
"Hurr... you have!" The Ents shock stifled further comment.
For a few minutes he waved his great limbs aloft his eyes blinking furiously as he struggled with the news that Entwives still dwelt in Middle Earth. All these long years he had feared that only Ents remained, without their mates only sorrows and memories had filled their thoughts. They stayed lest they be totally forgotten, and now . . . now this young Elf had arrived bringing word that their sorrows have been unfounded, that Entwives surrvived. He could not contain his joy and with great lumbering leaps he danced around the clearing , the Strongbow having to duck and dodge as his great limbs barely missed him.
Something else was happening , something he had forgotten in the long years of solitude, with some amazement he felt the thrill of sap rising through his trunk, he stood stunned for a moment and then as it crested within his woody limbs new buds suddenly burst open in an explosion of fresh greens. The Ent turned to face the Strongbow, who at first smiled gently at the Ents obvious joy, then with some disgust at the sappy trickles down his bark, even so he could not begrudge the Ent his happiness.
The Strongbows thoughts returned to his charge, lying unconcious in his arms. He knew at once what they must do.
"We must journey back to the Entwives hidden Valley, for therein we may find the means to save Elnineth." He looked at Willow-wand who was busy trying to clean his sticky bark, moss now covering the evidence of his excited state.
"If you go then . . hurrum . . . I will go with you young Elf . . . humm horrum . . .for I am to learn this place where our wives have kept safe. Great tales will be told . . . horrumm . . . of the Elf and the small one . . . "
Again he drifted into a long dialogue, only part of which the Strongbow heard for he was busy gathering together their belongings. When all was ready he stood for a moment, then taking heed of his barings he turned towards the east and headed towards the edge of the forest.
Monday, August 11, 2003
Something has happened, a sudden chill rushes within my heart and I stop seeking. Dark thoughts crowd me and I tremble, my legs scarcely holding me from falling. What is this? Could it be echos from the past have found me once more? Fear comes, many are lost and never found, So few I know that even the loss of one is painful.
I cannot see him, my voice calls, so thin, so small, will it fade like a spent match and fall unheard into dust? Does Morgoth seek me yet? He cannot reach beyond the void they say, but is it not his hand that crushes my hope? Drives despair to trouble me? Has he yet found a way to swallow me? Shall I yet yeild my spirit to him?
I feel so weary, the Elves when they are tired, they can go into the west, surely I could go too, embrace a new life that lies beyond. Is there no place there for me? Did I not fulfil my destiny. I sink to the ground distraught. There is no one to save me now? I had friends, yes I did but they have gone to live lives of their own, only I have remained, left behind to ever wait upon their call? Pity me then for it is not from my choosing I remain but as a duty to those who hold my promise.
I close my eyes trying to remember those days when I was loved, yes there were times, though my memory of them is blurred by the events of this last year. He is here with me. I can feel his dark hands holding me, he will draw me too him, he is death and I should yield to him. My hope is fading for there are none who remember me.
He stood atop a high branch, his heart light with jest for he knows she will find him, but so little it will be beyond her power to reach him. Waiting now he feels the cold warning in his heart. She has not come, Where is she? He stands tall, the game forgotten, his keen eyes searching for her movement. A pain fills him, a gnawing dread shouts from his subconcious, he should not have left her alone.
Leaping to the lower branches he paused momentarily thinking he had heard her voice, Suddenly he was leaping forward springing effortly across the ground, fear for her rising in his heart. He could not lose her, he would not, not now. Finally he glimpsed her, she lay pale and still upon the path, the great boughs above her blocking the moons light, in shadow, around her he could feel a darkness, something dark and menacing was holding his dearheart, He called out to her
"Elnineth lasto beth nin."
She shows no sigh . Is she still alive? Almost in panic he moves forward, the darkness seems to be gaining form.
Before him evil is rising, the Strongbow must act quickly or it could claim them both. He begins to sing, his rich deep voice filling the forest clearing. The darkness is not about to surrender is prize so easily, it gathers itself, becoming a denser mass, it is reaching to lift Enineth from the ground. Striking an arrow against the ground a small spark sets it afire, fitting it quickly to Belthronding string then drawing it he takes careful aim before letting it fly. It passes through the shadow, it howls cursing in dark speech, dropping Elnineth's small frame to the ground.
The Stongbow has drawn a second arrow again he strikes it apon the ground, its flint tip flashes and it lights. The dark shadow wavers, it is not yet at full strength for it has been interupted as it fed upon Elnineths spirit. Even so it is more than a match for a mere Elf. It steps forward once more roaring its defiance to the Elf. The Strongbow releases the second arrow, again his aim is true but this time it does not go unpunished for dark hands reach out gripping the Elf and hurling him against a tree, lying there stunned momentarially he suddenly is witness to something seldom seen before.
The great forest oaks suddenly spring to life parting their boughs, thus allowing the moons light into the clearing. The darkness withdraws from its prey and for a few breif moments attempts to take the small form lying by its feet. It is prevented by the willowy hand that lifts her clear of his reach. In this most desperate of moments the Ents awoke and finding a great evil amongst them, they brought their combined power to bear, Weakened by the light of the moon, injured by the Strongbow's arrows the shadow of Morgoth retreated back into the void leaving Elnineth unconcious, lost the darkest of nightmares.
Willow-wand brings her to the Strongbow and gently lays her in his arms, he pauses thinking carefully on the words he chooses, he must keep it hasty. The strongbow knows what he must do, he holds Elnineth in his embrace and begins once more to sing,
"Here in the very darkest hour, where great is Melkor's might
Take courage my little Star for our hearts still hold the light.
You tremble like a frightened fawn, indeed that may well be
But your strength it lies within you now, and I will set it free.
You will not linger in depair where light cannot shine
For I have strength to bear you and will gladly make it thine.
Hear me my dearheart, do not let your hope yet wane
For look we are beneath the stars and freedom is our gain.
Gentle Starlight shining down give strength to you now.
I am here I will not leave still honoring my vow.
Your body lies so cold is all I've done in vain
My duty now to set you free to shine above again."
The Lament
"You will not walk again in fields, where gentle flowers grow
Nor taste your first gentle love, my arms the only ones you'll know
Let my love your pillow be, here in this cold place
For you're the brightest of the stars, one we'll not replace.
Your hand so small your heart so true why did this come to be,
Oh Elnineth my dearheart, I wish that it were me."
I cannot see him, my voice calls, so thin, so small, will it fade like a spent match and fall unheard into dust? Does Morgoth seek me yet? He cannot reach beyond the void they say, but is it not his hand that crushes my hope? Drives despair to trouble me? Has he yet found a way to swallow me? Shall I yet yeild my spirit to him?
I feel so weary, the Elves when they are tired, they can go into the west, surely I could go too, embrace a new life that lies beyond. Is there no place there for me? Did I not fulfil my destiny. I sink to the ground distraught. There is no one to save me now? I had friends, yes I did but they have gone to live lives of their own, only I have remained, left behind to ever wait upon their call? Pity me then for it is not from my choosing I remain but as a duty to those who hold my promise.
I close my eyes trying to remember those days when I was loved, yes there were times, though my memory of them is blurred by the events of this last year. He is here with me. I can feel his dark hands holding me, he will draw me too him, he is death and I should yield to him. My hope is fading for there are none who remember me.
He stood atop a high branch, his heart light with jest for he knows she will find him, but so little it will be beyond her power to reach him. Waiting now he feels the cold warning in his heart. She has not come, Where is she? He stands tall, the game forgotten, his keen eyes searching for her movement. A pain fills him, a gnawing dread shouts from his subconcious, he should not have left her alone.
Leaping to the lower branches he paused momentarily thinking he had heard her voice, Suddenly he was leaping forward springing effortly across the ground, fear for her rising in his heart. He could not lose her, he would not, not now. Finally he glimpsed her, she lay pale and still upon the path, the great boughs above her blocking the moons light, in shadow, around her he could feel a darkness, something dark and menacing was holding his dearheart, He called out to her
"Elnineth lasto beth nin."
She shows no sigh . Is she still alive? Almost in panic he moves forward, the darkness seems to be gaining form.
Before him evil is rising, the Strongbow must act quickly or it could claim them both. He begins to sing, his rich deep voice filling the forest clearing. The darkness is not about to surrender is prize so easily, it gathers itself, becoming a denser mass, it is reaching to lift Enineth from the ground. Striking an arrow against the ground a small spark sets it afire, fitting it quickly to Belthronding string then drawing it he takes careful aim before letting it fly. It passes through the shadow, it howls cursing in dark speech, dropping Elnineth's small frame to the ground.
The Stongbow has drawn a second arrow again he strikes it apon the ground, its flint tip flashes and it lights. The dark shadow wavers, it is not yet at full strength for it has been interupted as it fed upon Elnineths spirit. Even so it is more than a match for a mere Elf. It steps forward once more roaring its defiance to the Elf. The Strongbow releases the second arrow, again his aim is true but this time it does not go unpunished for dark hands reach out gripping the Elf and hurling him against a tree, lying there stunned momentarially he suddenly is witness to something seldom seen before.
The great forest oaks suddenly spring to life parting their boughs, thus allowing the moons light into the clearing. The darkness withdraws from its prey and for a few breif moments attempts to take the small form lying by its feet. It is prevented by the willowy hand that lifts her clear of his reach. In this most desperate of moments the Ents awoke and finding a great evil amongst them, they brought their combined power to bear, Weakened by the light of the moon, injured by the Strongbow's arrows the shadow of Morgoth retreated back into the void leaving Elnineth unconcious, lost the darkest of nightmares.
Willow-wand brings her to the Strongbow and gently lays her in his arms, he pauses thinking carefully on the words he chooses, he must keep it hasty. The strongbow knows what he must do, he holds Elnineth in his embrace and begins once more to sing,
"Here in the very darkest hour, where great is Melkor's might
Take courage my little Star for our hearts still hold the light.
You tremble like a frightened fawn, indeed that may well be
But your strength it lies within you now, and I will set it free.
You will not linger in depair where light cannot shine
For I have strength to bear you and will gladly make it thine.
Hear me my dearheart, do not let your hope yet wane
For look we are beneath the stars and freedom is our gain.
Gentle Starlight shining down give strength to you now.
I am here I will not leave still honoring my vow.
Your body lies so cold is all I've done in vain
My duty now to set you free to shine above again."
The Lament
"You will not walk again in fields, where gentle flowers grow
Nor taste your first gentle love, my arms the only ones you'll know
Let my love your pillow be, here in this cold place
For you're the brightest of the stars, one we'll not replace.
Your hand so small your heart so true why did this come to be,
Oh Elnineth my dearheart, I wish that it were me."
Friday, July 25, 2003
The water is cold, somewhere in the mountains it is born, cascading down over the rock to hasten in river bed. Babbling and chatting through weedy deeps to gravel shallows. I dip my hands into the water, a squeal of shock at its coldness brings the Strongbow to my side. Seeing it is just the water, he laughs and joins me at the waters edge. A playful splash is soon followed by another. Giggles bring release of tension, as stress slips aways upon the surface of the rivers flow.
These are treasure times, for there have been few in my life so far, tho it is not my wish to dwell on such things today. Rather I look forward to the walk within the forest. Beleg tells me it is an ancient woodland, yet but for a few old stands it appears not so, I ask him about this, he carefully explains that much is newly grown to replace the many old trees that had once stood here.
Old, ancient wise and strong had once filled many times the woodlands I see now, but they were lost to the ravishes of the Wizard in Orthanc. Their voices now silent and yet in their stead new life springs afresh awaiting their chance to learn of Middle Earth's histories. I too understand again the sorrows of Mother Earth, bearing forth her children, ever in the hope that they will spend their full ages upon this land.
Looking to the Forest once more, I see the old oak in which the Strongbow had stood, tho it be battered from the weather it is yet a magnificent sight, upon its bark deep clefts and ridges wherein small beasts may hide. Its great trunk leaning slightly backwards, braced against the cold winds sweeping down from the Misty Mountains. His branches now only a reflection of his once great head, yet still bourne proudly, and upon them the first fat buds are opening.
I look to the Strongbow and he nods, it is time for our walk to begin. Such excitement I have seldom know save for when Elrond gave me Naurneth my beloved horse-friend. Now the thought of walking in the woods and witnessing the Ents waking from their winter slumbers fills me with such once more.
The Strongbow feels it too. I can see it in his eyes and in his eager gait, that soon has me trotting alongside just to keep up. Yes if he were to run I would have no way to follow save by my own tracking skills, but this is no race and he is soon again at my side. I reach up to take his hand its warmth a mirror of our friendship.
Beneath the trees the air is cold, and the light filtered by the branches overhead, without their leaves it looks like the great bones of Dragon wings reaching skyward. Its the smell here that excites, both the rotty wood smell and the heady sappy aroma as we pass a pine or fir. Though my eyes strain I can detect no movements save for the rustle of the wind among fallen leaf and highblown branch.
Tugging eagerly on the Strongbow's hand I press forward only to be held as his soft voice bids me to look to my right. A mother deer is standing, beside her a new fawn lies, a few moments old, still wet, She stamps nervously then lifting her head higher scents us, the panic in her eyes fades and she returns to cleaning her newborn. His coat is dappled with sun lit spots upon a velveteen brown, huge eyes open and a tiny mew heralds his awakening. As if in answer the buds on the tree above him pop open. The suns rays now filtered into a green shimmer.
There is nothing on this green earth more wonderful than a new life, we stand entranced drinking in the details of these moments, in hope to hold them as memories forever. Settling on a nearby log, I am content to watch as the new fawn takes his first shakey steps. It is hard to refrain from rushing to help as he staggers forward onto his soft black nose, but his doe encourages him and soon he is rewarded with her sweet milk. After a little while they leave us. It is then that I notice that Beleg is no longer at my side.
Where did he go? I search the nearby trees but cannot see him . . . has some evil befallen him? Could it have taken him from me and I unaware of it. Panic begins within me for I do not wish to be alone yet. I call his name and a soft laugh tells me my fears are unfounded. He is not lost, not harmed, he is hiding. I fill with joyous indignation and set forth to find him telling him he is a cad. His laughter fills me and again I am overjoyed, as I seek him.
These are treasure times, for there have been few in my life so far, tho it is not my wish to dwell on such things today. Rather I look forward to the walk within the forest. Beleg tells me it is an ancient woodland, yet but for a few old stands it appears not so, I ask him about this, he carefully explains that much is newly grown to replace the many old trees that had once stood here.
Old, ancient wise and strong had once filled many times the woodlands I see now, but they were lost to the ravishes of the Wizard in Orthanc. Their voices now silent and yet in their stead new life springs afresh awaiting their chance to learn of Middle Earth's histories. I too understand again the sorrows of Mother Earth, bearing forth her children, ever in the hope that they will spend their full ages upon this land.
Looking to the Forest once more, I see the old oak in which the Strongbow had stood, tho it be battered from the weather it is yet a magnificent sight, upon its bark deep clefts and ridges wherein small beasts may hide. Its great trunk leaning slightly backwards, braced against the cold winds sweeping down from the Misty Mountains. His branches now only a reflection of his once great head, yet still bourne proudly, and upon them the first fat buds are opening.
I look to the Strongbow and he nods, it is time for our walk to begin. Such excitement I have seldom know save for when Elrond gave me Naurneth my beloved horse-friend. Now the thought of walking in the woods and witnessing the Ents waking from their winter slumbers fills me with such once more.
The Strongbow feels it too. I can see it in his eyes and in his eager gait, that soon has me trotting alongside just to keep up. Yes if he were to run I would have no way to follow save by my own tracking skills, but this is no race and he is soon again at my side. I reach up to take his hand its warmth a mirror of our friendship.
Beneath the trees the air is cold, and the light filtered by the branches overhead, without their leaves it looks like the great bones of Dragon wings reaching skyward. Its the smell here that excites, both the rotty wood smell and the heady sappy aroma as we pass a pine or fir. Though my eyes strain I can detect no movements save for the rustle of the wind among fallen leaf and highblown branch.
Tugging eagerly on the Strongbow's hand I press forward only to be held as his soft voice bids me to look to my right. A mother deer is standing, beside her a new fawn lies, a few moments old, still wet, She stamps nervously then lifting her head higher scents us, the panic in her eyes fades and she returns to cleaning her newborn. His coat is dappled with sun lit spots upon a velveteen brown, huge eyes open and a tiny mew heralds his awakening. As if in answer the buds on the tree above him pop open. The suns rays now filtered into a green shimmer.
There is nothing on this green earth more wonderful than a new life, we stand entranced drinking in the details of these moments, in hope to hold them as memories forever. Settling on a nearby log, I am content to watch as the new fawn takes his first shakey steps. It is hard to refrain from rushing to help as he staggers forward onto his soft black nose, but his doe encourages him and soon he is rewarded with her sweet milk. After a little while they leave us. It is then that I notice that Beleg is no longer at my side.
Where did he go? I search the nearby trees but cannot see him . . . has some evil befallen him? Could it have taken him from me and I unaware of it. Panic begins within me for I do not wish to be alone yet. I call his name and a soft laugh tells me my fears are unfounded. He is not lost, not harmed, he is hiding. I fill with joyous indignation and set forth to find him telling him he is a cad. His laughter fills me and again I am overjoyed, as I seek him.
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
I awoke to the dawns first light, at first I did not feel his cloak about my shoulders, for my eyes fell upon the most wonderous of sights. Spread amongst the low branches of the trees jewels hung on silken threads. In the dew spangled webs the dawns first light reflected in a myriad of rainbowed hues. It was bewitching. Such beauty that even the birds held their voice, in but a few short moments it had passed and the song of the dawn chorus sprang forward to welcome the new day.
Among the grass the new buds push forward, I have not slept upon the ground for some months, the dampness had crept within me and I took time to move. My eyes fell upon him as he sat tending the fire. Already the sun plays in his hair lighting strand so they glow as if its new born rays lay there. Do they too struggle to shake off their sleep?
He is preparing breakfast, such simple fare but tended with care to give us a good start to the day. He has promised to go walking with me, and I look forward to it. The wind is cold but she holds a hint of spring, there is the fragrance of warming leaf upon her, any moment now the swollen buds will burst forth sending the first flushes of green into the wood, such a day we will witness soon my Marchwarden and I.
I go to join him, there is a smell of fresh brewed herbal tea and the delicate aroma of fresh baked biscuit. I cannot help but hug him, tho he protests, it is not unwelcome. So we have grown together, so different from our first meeting. It was Autum then. The trees awashed with colors like the pallet of an artist caught in a moment, befor brush could mix them. Such colors they danced in the light of the Autum dawn, mellowed in the early evening sun and softly fading as night fell.
Looking into his gentle face, does he know where my thoughts lie? He is of Elven kind and they can speak in your mind. Do they also share your thoughts? He hands me a plate upon which he has place biscuits and honey. Another memory finds me and we smile. The Entwives, their gift to me such a simple act of kindness that proved to be so important.
"Did they know Strongbow?"
He searches for a moment to recall the days spent in the hidden valley, they had great wisdom, they listen to the world, taking time to know and understand her pains, such pains she has bourne, Mother Earth and they had through time learned much of her but could they forsee the future?
"I think not dearheart, tho they knew great troubles were growing in Middle Earth, I do not believe they foresaw all that came to pass . . . Of course it is possible that I am wrong and they did"
He grinned at me knowing that I had waited for him to say yes as well as no. An old joke between us, that Elves could never give a straight answer. Yet I have learned there is much wisdom in the words that he chooses. We cannot know all that will come to pass for it has not yet been written. Much as we plan for the future we cannot know if our plans will bear fruit until that time is with us.
I did not know on that day, when seeking shelter from rain and the dark forces that persued me, I would find you Strongbow, nor that I would find the others. I sought only for respite from the darkness that threatened. By chance then we met upon that evening. Naurneth had carried me far but even he was wearied by the constant pursuit. The rain had turned the ground to mud. It clawed at my feet trying to slow my escape. When I reached the door I was all but spent and yet something told me that an Elf was close by.
When I saw you you were standing in a tree, almost hidden by leaf and bough, your blue-grey eyes so intense, even in the shadow your hair shone. You were garbed, as always, as an Elven ranger. When I knocked upon the door I had expected to be greeted by an Elf maiden . . .
My tea grows cool and I sip from the cup, the memory fades. I watch you settling the fire, the hour is still early, we will wait a while before setting out. I decide I should go wash up. You hand me a towel and again I am left thinking you know my mind. Could it be so? Or is it just that you know me from the time we have shared together.
Among the grass the new buds push forward, I have not slept upon the ground for some months, the dampness had crept within me and I took time to move. My eyes fell upon him as he sat tending the fire. Already the sun plays in his hair lighting strand so they glow as if its new born rays lay there. Do they too struggle to shake off their sleep?
He is preparing breakfast, such simple fare but tended with care to give us a good start to the day. He has promised to go walking with me, and I look forward to it. The wind is cold but she holds a hint of spring, there is the fragrance of warming leaf upon her, any moment now the swollen buds will burst forth sending the first flushes of green into the wood, such a day we will witness soon my Marchwarden and I.
I go to join him, there is a smell of fresh brewed herbal tea and the delicate aroma of fresh baked biscuit. I cannot help but hug him, tho he protests, it is not unwelcome. So we have grown together, so different from our first meeting. It was Autum then. The trees awashed with colors like the pallet of an artist caught in a moment, befor brush could mix them. Such colors they danced in the light of the Autum dawn, mellowed in the early evening sun and softly fading as night fell.
Looking into his gentle face, does he know where my thoughts lie? He is of Elven kind and they can speak in your mind. Do they also share your thoughts? He hands me a plate upon which he has place biscuits and honey. Another memory finds me and we smile. The Entwives, their gift to me such a simple act of kindness that proved to be so important.
"Did they know Strongbow?"
He searches for a moment to recall the days spent in the hidden valley, they had great wisdom, they listen to the world, taking time to know and understand her pains, such pains she has bourne, Mother Earth and they had through time learned much of her but could they forsee the future?
"I think not dearheart, tho they knew great troubles were growing in Middle Earth, I do not believe they foresaw all that came to pass . . . Of course it is possible that I am wrong and they did"
He grinned at me knowing that I had waited for him to say yes as well as no. An old joke between us, that Elves could never give a straight answer. Yet I have learned there is much wisdom in the words that he chooses. We cannot know all that will come to pass for it has not yet been written. Much as we plan for the future we cannot know if our plans will bear fruit until that time is with us.
I did not know on that day, when seeking shelter from rain and the dark forces that persued me, I would find you Strongbow, nor that I would find the others. I sought only for respite from the darkness that threatened. By chance then we met upon that evening. Naurneth had carried me far but even he was wearied by the constant pursuit. The rain had turned the ground to mud. It clawed at my feet trying to slow my escape. When I reached the door I was all but spent and yet something told me that an Elf was close by.
When I saw you you were standing in a tree, almost hidden by leaf and bough, your blue-grey eyes so intense, even in the shadow your hair shone. You were garbed, as always, as an Elven ranger. When I knocked upon the door I had expected to be greeted by an Elf maiden . . .
My tea grows cool and I sip from the cup, the memory fades. I watch you settling the fire, the hour is still early, we will wait a while before setting out. I decide I should go wash up. You hand me a towel and again I am left thinking you know my mind. Could it be so? Or is it just that you know me from the time we have shared together.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
My name is Elnineth, I sit quietly in the clearing, nearby trees whispering to me the days news, telling with hushed voices of the movements in the world that is Middle Earth. The stars light gently bathes me, filling me with renewed calm. I am comforted to know that within the trees my mentor sits, his eyes ever watchful for dangers that might threaten. We have travelled here together to recover from the turmoils of our first meeting. Here we will spend time to renew our energies and spirit.
I have walked Middle Earth for a short time, he on the other hand has spent many ages and his wisdom and knowledge of this world have helped me greatly though difficult times. There have been many others and those I will tell you of as time allows. For the moment I would tell you of this place.
The trees here are tall and fair for the most part though amoung them a few ancients stand, within one of these he sits thinking as is his want. Of what he dreams I know not nor do I ask, for at times like this it is to your own heart you must look. Away in the distance tall mountains rise up, crested by the snows of the late winter, but here in the valley the springs new growth has just begun mirroring my own awakening. I can feel the earth breathing.
I have known its sorrows but now just as the very soil puts forth new tender shoots so I too must open and grow anew. I have feared that frost might catch these new beginings and yet even tho they may be burned by icy chill the new shoots push forth in their eagerness to reach the suns warming rays. So I too must reach out beyond the darkness and into the light.
Sitting upon the ground I draw a circle around me beyond it stands many of the things I much desire. Love, friendship, trust, honesty, truthfulness, courage. I seek a way to draw them into my circle. I feel the bitter cold upon my back. A shiver of a known fear drawing a sharp gasp from my lips, I close my eyes as old horrors haunt me anew. When I open them you are standing before me.
"What is it?" you ask your voice gentle, knowing I recoil when the darkness dances in my mind,
"Does the past still trouble you dearheart?"
I struggle to tell you
"No." For it worries me to burden you with the same old troubles, but you are not fooled, you know that I have yet to be truely free.
You take me in you arms holding me tightly, you stroke my hair and in hushed voice you sing gentle songs of the moonlight. I feel your spirit lift me from the darkness and set me upon the earth. Sitting there within your circle my own heart sours, we are not lovers, but we love, as you are to me my guide, my hope, my strength, my soulmate. I would tell you anything you ask of me and know I can ask all from you.
As the calmness washes over me my spirit rises. I know now, if I cannot draw those desires into my circle, I must widen my circle to enclose them. I relax against the warmth of your body, listening to the steady rythum of your breathing. As I lie against you the moons glow softens the shadows and I fall into slumber.
I have walked Middle Earth for a short time, he on the other hand has spent many ages and his wisdom and knowledge of this world have helped me greatly though difficult times. There have been many others and those I will tell you of as time allows. For the moment I would tell you of this place.
The trees here are tall and fair for the most part though amoung them a few ancients stand, within one of these he sits thinking as is his want. Of what he dreams I know not nor do I ask, for at times like this it is to your own heart you must look. Away in the distance tall mountains rise up, crested by the snows of the late winter, but here in the valley the springs new growth has just begun mirroring my own awakening. I can feel the earth breathing.
I have known its sorrows but now just as the very soil puts forth new tender shoots so I too must open and grow anew. I have feared that frost might catch these new beginings and yet even tho they may be burned by icy chill the new shoots push forth in their eagerness to reach the suns warming rays. So I too must reach out beyond the darkness and into the light.
Sitting upon the ground I draw a circle around me beyond it stands many of the things I much desire. Love, friendship, trust, honesty, truthfulness, courage. I seek a way to draw them into my circle. I feel the bitter cold upon my back. A shiver of a known fear drawing a sharp gasp from my lips, I close my eyes as old horrors haunt me anew. When I open them you are standing before me.
"What is it?" you ask your voice gentle, knowing I recoil when the darkness dances in my mind,
"Does the past still trouble you dearheart?"
I struggle to tell you
"No." For it worries me to burden you with the same old troubles, but you are not fooled, you know that I have yet to be truely free.
You take me in you arms holding me tightly, you stroke my hair and in hushed voice you sing gentle songs of the moonlight. I feel your spirit lift me from the darkness and set me upon the earth. Sitting there within your circle my own heart sours, we are not lovers, but we love, as you are to me my guide, my hope, my strength, my soulmate. I would tell you anything you ask of me and know I can ask all from you.
As the calmness washes over me my spirit rises. I know now, if I cannot draw those desires into my circle, I must widen my circle to enclose them. I relax against the warmth of your body, listening to the steady rythum of your breathing. As I lie against you the moons glow softens the shadows and I fall into slumber.
