Nerwen the Green

and the Search for the Entwives

by Lady Angel Fanwriter

I am a big fan of JRR Tolkien's works, the first of them, The Lord of the Rings, I read at 16, and re-read innumerable times. Later came The Hobbit, The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, The Book of Lost Tales, Sons of Húrin, and other ones.

Like all fans passionate about a work, I fantasied thousands times to be part of it, and so I created an alter ego of myself, Nerwen the Green, great friend and colleague to Gandalf the Grey, and also a disciple of the Valië Yavanna Kementári, the Queen of Earth.

With the arrival of the first movie of the cinematographic trilogy The Hobbit I got finally the right inspiration to write a fan fiction narrating Nerwen's adventures. I tried to stay as much as possible true to the geography and nomenclature of the Tolkienian universe, and also to the plot already established by the Oxfordian Professor – I won't alter any storyline of his – however, the spirit in which I write it is much more modern and "daring" than Tolkien's. Therefore, don't expect his romantic nineteenth-century discretion in the representation of sentimental situations: the characters I describe – mine or borrowed – are definitely more "carnal", be they Valar, Maiar, Elves, Dwarves of Humans. Therefore, no Valar or Maiar like sexless angels, but instead much more alike to the Olympic or Norse gods, with their passions, virtues and flaws; and no Elves so transcendent to look preternatural, but made of blood and flesh precisely like Dwarves and Humans, immensely wise if you want, but fallible, and amiable or annoying exactly like all other inhabitants of Middle-earth.

For the experts of the Tolkienian universe, the detailed descriptions I give about backgrounds, environments and characters could sound useless and pedantic, but I want the story to be enjoyable also to those who know little or nothing about the Professor's works.

The mature rating is indispensable, as I narrate in detail also love situations, exactly like all the other ones, because I think that love – included its physical expression – is the most beautiful thing in the world and therefore there's no reason to feel ashamed. Anyway, my characters don't have sex, but make love, or at the most, they have sex with feeling; therefore this kind of scenes can be described, if anything, as erotic, and not at all as pornographic.

Finally, please note that English is not my mother language, so I ask you to be patient with my mistakes and oddities; any correction by English native speakers is very welcome.

Good, now you've been warned! XD If you're still willing to explore the twists and turns of my story, I welcome you. In this case, elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo (*).

Lady Angel

(*) A star shines upon the hour of our encounter. (Quenya tongue, from "The Lord of the Rings")

OOO

Chapter I: Nerwen's Garden

Nerwen Laiheri, the Lady of the Green, bent over a basil plant and caressed gently its scented leaves.

"Bravo, little brother", she praised it, "Grow and spread your fragrance everywhere."

Nerwen's vast garden was the richest and luxuriant of all Valinor, and often its inhabitants – Valar, Maiar and Eldar – came here looking for plants in order to decorate their parks and to enrich the taste of their food. Thanks to her ability and to the special gift Yavanna Kementári granted her, Nerwen could grow in her garden all the plants of Arda, from the mosses and lichens of the subarctic climates to the succulent plants of the deserts, from the northern conifers to the equatorial palm trees. A profusion of flowers, trees, shrubs, herbs of all genres and types flourished on her wide land, in a cheerful mixture of colours and scents offering joy to the hearts of those who looked at them. Such was the beauty of this place, comparable only to the Gardens of Lórien, that many came here even only to take a stroll and fill their eyes with these incomparable colours and their nostrils with these delicious aromas.

Nerwen was a Maia, one of the lesser Ainur who came into Arda along with the Valar – greater Ainur – at the time of Creation. Since the Beginning of Times, she had been a disciple of Yavanna, the Queen of Earth, the one who gave life to all the plants and animals in Arda. With her, she had travelled far and wide across Arda, curing the wounds Melkor, the Great Enemy, had inflicted, when there was no other light than Varda Elentári's stars; with her, she participated to the creation of the Two Trees of Valinor, which light had illuminated Aman before Isil and Anar, the Moon and the Sun; with her, she cried upon their destruction by the hand of Melkor Morgoth; and with her, she had seen the arrival of the Shepherds of the Trees, the Onodrim, who in later ages would become known by the name of Ents. For all of this, Nerwen was called Laiheri, the Lady of the Green.

W ith her brown eyes and hair, Nerwen looked very much alike to her Mistress, even if obviously the resemblance with her sister Melian was much more remarkable, except for the eyes that the latter had green. Melian had been far away from Aman for a long time; in Beleriand, across the Great Sea, she had met an Elda, Elwë, later known as Thingol, and for the love of him she stayed there, where together they founded the kingdom of Doriath and where she gave birth to a daughter, Lúthien. Nerwen went often to visit her sister and her family, and spent long periods with them, but she never abided permanently in Endorë, or Middle-earth as it was called by its inhabitants, even if she came to love that land almost as much as Valinor. Then, when Thingol was killed, Melian came back to the Blessed Realm, and she dwelt with her sister since.

Now, innumerable years after these events, Nerwen took care as always of the olvar, the vegetal creatures of the world, and Melian helped her. She said that busying herself with the plants of Aman soothed the sorrow in her heart, deprived of husband and the only daughter, a sorrow that would last for all eternity, and only the abidance in the Blessed Realm made it somehow bearable.

Not far away from where Nerwen was walking, a sweet, sad song arose. It was Melian, singing a lay of Endorë, or Middle-earth; it narrated the story of Lúthien and her human beloved, Beren, who called her Tinúviel, meaning nightingale. Together, the two of them accomplished a task which still was unequalled in Arda's history: rescue a Silmaril from Morgoth's crown; but Lúthien chose the Fate of Men for the love of Beren and went in a place that no Vala, Maia or Elda could reach, because it was meant only for the Second-Born of Eru Ilúvatar, the Creator. Nonetheless, something of Melian's daughter had remained in the world: through Dior, hers and Beren's son, her lineage still walked in Endorë.

Nerwen halted to listen; the lay was very long, and Melian never sang it in its entireness. That day, she was narrating about Lúthien's goodbye to Doriath in order to follow Beren in the place that would become their dwelling, and where she would give birth to Dior.

A butterfly with iridescent colours approached her, flying about. Observing the movement of its multi-coloured wings, much slower than normal, Nerwen realised immediately it was a messenger.

"Tell me, little sister", she invited her therefore. And the butterfly spoke to her with her ethereal voice:

Kementári wishes to speak to you, Laiheri. She awaits you in her palace in Valimar, as soon as you can go to her.

"Thank you, little sister", Nerwen answered, "Now your mission is complete, choose a flower or a plant and rest."

I'm grateful to you, Laiheri, the wonderful butterfly stated, then went away flying lightly and set down on a flower-filled wisteria.

T he Maia went to her sister, who seeing her approaching stopped singing and smiled at her, with a love going beyond their blood bond. Melian had with Nerwen a gratitude debt she was convinced she would never be able to pay back completely. For a short moment, Melian's memory went back to what happened so much time ago: when Thingol was killed, Nerwen perceived her sister's immense suffering through the enormous physical distance separating them and begged Nienna to help her go to her. The Lady of Grief, moved by pity, satisfied her request, transferring her magically in an instant to Melian, who was letting herself die out of sorrow. Nerwen offered her the comfort of her love and convinced her to come back to the Blessed Realm, where her affliction could be soothed, even if it would never be cancelled.

Since then, many years had gone by: Númenor was built out of the waters of the Great Sea to be the dwelling of the Edain, the Fathers of Men, as a thanksgiving for having fought along with Eldar and Valar against Morgoth, and then it was sunk because of the arrogance of their descendants, blinded by Sauron's deceits; Elendil and his sons Isildur and Anárion were able to escape the Fall of Númenor, or Atalantë (*) as this tragic event was later called, with a small number of Elf Friends and a fruit of Nimloth, descendant of the Silver Tree. And then there was the Last Alliance between Eldar and Men, the first ones led by their high king Gil-galad son of Fingon, the second ones by Elendil and his two sons, who together defeated Sauron; Isildur seized the One Ring, infused with all the malefic power of Sauron, but it was lost in the disaster of the Gladden Fields; the realms of Arnor and Gondor, founded by Elendil and held by the descendants of Isildur the first, of Anárion the second, grew and flourished for centuries, but later Arnor fell, was divided in three smaller realms and finally vanished, while Gondor lasted much longer, but then Anárion's lineage faded. Therefore, in the north no realm existed any longer, but Isildur's descent continued to exist, while in the south Anárion's descent was no more, but his realm continued to exist…

Nerwen spoke, and Melian came back to the present time.

"I've been summoned by Kementári", she informed her, "I must go to Valimar."

"I see", Melian answered, nodding, "Please pay my respects to her; see you when you'll come back."

Nerwen smiled lovingly to her sister, then she nodded her goodbye and headed for their abode; the gardens, located between the Pastures of Yavanna and the Woods of Oromë, were very large and set in the deep south of Aman, so that to go across them one would need two days, but thanks to a Passage Mandos created for her, the house was reachable in a few minutes from every point of the land Nerwen ruled.

The house of the two sisters was actually an underground cavern opening in a hill, partially natural, partially dug. The façade was made of ochre tuff blocks, where the green painted, honed wooden entrance door opened, as well as a number of windows, adorned with flowers. The rooms not facing outward were lit by a kind of phosphorescent lichen, which had the quality to increase or lessen its luminosity according to the house-owners requests, from a faint glimmer just enough to outline a room, to a radiance comparable to full day. The interior was dry, thermally well insulated, so it was cool in summer and warm in winter, therefore it needed only little heating; furthermore, there was an underground hot spring providing warm water galore.

N erwen reached her dwelling and headed for her room to change, taking off her comfortable gardener clothes – breeches and short tunic without sleeves – to wear a rider outfit – another kind of breeches, shirt and doublet. In a bag, she placed an elegant dress, apt to present herself to Yavanna, accurately folded, with appropriate shoes and a few jewels; then she wrapped some food in a cloth, filled a bottle with water and put them, too, in the bag. Finally, she braided her hair, then she exited and sent out a long, modulated whistle. She was answered by a far away neigh, and a few moments later she heard the gallop of an approaching horse; shortly after, a stunning mare with a shining white coat and blond mane and tail stopped in front of the Maia.

"Good morning, Silmelotë", Nerwen saluted her, "I've been summoned to Valimar: do you like to come with me?"

The mare, whose name meant Flower of Starlight, raised her proud head and neighed joyfully her consent. Nerwen laughed:

"You like the idea to gallop around half Aman, don't you?", she commented in jest. Silmelotë shook her mane and it looked almost as she was shrugging.

I can't help it, I like to run, she said in her ethereal voice. Nerwen chuckled amused, then she showed her the harness and the mare, obediently, allowed her bridle and saddle her; finally, the Maia mounted, shouldered her bag and said:

"Let's go."

Silmelotë moved on a walk, heading northward; then she went on a light trot that would allow her to travel for long distances without getting tired. Occasionally she would sprint in a gallop, just to indulge in her longing to run, and Nerwen gladly would let her do sp.

Silmelotë wasn't just a horse, but a Chargeress. This meant she had the power to use the Passages Mandos created, exactly like Valar and Maiar, a power that had been infused in the race of the Chargers by Mandos himself along with Yavanna at the dawn of times. Among all the kelvar, the animal creatures of Arda, only these ones had this capability.

The mare arrived at the first Passage about half an hour later; for a moment, the world looked blurred in Nerwen's eyes, then, when her sight returned clear, the landscape had changed: now they were near the Gardens of Lórien.

The next Passage, which would take them near the Mansions of Aulë, was farther, a little less than one hour, and the one after that about double so. In whole, they got through four Passages, needing less than a day's journey to travel a distance which otherwise would require six days on a normal mount.

OOO

(*) Notice the surprisingly similarity with the word Atlantis… I don't think the Professor did it accidentally :-)

OOO

Author's corner:

Welcome to my version of the Tolkienverse! :-)

If, despite my warnings, you have made it to the end of this chapter, I thank you warmly! And I very much hope it intrigued you enough to go on with the reading.

I hope, too, that you will be so kind and generous to take some minutes to leave me a comment, even only a few words, just to encourage me, or to make some constructive criticism or to correct mistakes of any kind: my knowledge of Tolkien's world and of the English tongue may be good, but is far from perfect.

Lady Angel