The scenery did not change. Not over the distance Laitheryn had run following the sun as he continued his slow path across the pale blue sky. He had left the sanctuary of Lorien far behind him and he was once more on his own, and Laitheryn could not help but feel the solitude of his journey growing as he continued eastwards and away from the Golden Forest. The only relief to the pressing quiet was the soft songs of nature that surrounded him. The scenery had not changed much, slowly evening out and becoming gently sloping hills, covered with thick green grasses and dotted with the occasional sparse trees.
It had not changed much from his last venture outside an elven realm either, when he traveled in the company of that human ranger around the lengths of Arda. It was as if the land was frozen in time, barely changing from one year to the next or from one life time to the next.
There were not many creatures that would venture this way; that would intentionally disturb the lay of the land with their travels. The land had not changed, but something within it had. The colours of nature seemed slightly less bright, less pristine, as if tainted slightly by a darkness. And it seemed to be growing too, like a fungus, slowly corrupting the health of the land around it. The darkness had grown and yet light remained only subdued; the light would never fade as long as there was hope.
Laitheryn had run from Lorien, letting the trees blend him in and cut of his knowledge of his friends' gaze on his turned back. Moving swiftly he had reached the gently flowing river that cut through Lorien and separated it from its kin nation, Greenwood. The golden trees had dimmed long ago, losing the brilliant sheen that Lorien was known for and now they seemed more natural to him, not golden but green. He had stopped at its banks of the gentle river, to drink his full.
He had not been this far out of Lorien since the time he had crossed into its borders, seeking answers to his questions on his past. He had not found the answers in that realm, his stay within the sanctuary of the Golden Forest only rose more. The River Anduin was the natural border to Lorien and after that he would bereft of a home once more. But he would not change his mind, now sheer stubbornness keeping his resolve alive, so it would not wane and he weaken in his intent.
The Golden Lady clearly thought he had something to gain by returning to Greenwood, and Laitheryn would trust in her judgement. She would not lie, nor would she send him on a fools' errand, only to be disappointed and deeply hurt by not finding what he sought. He would place his trust in her and in himself.
Laitheryn did not look back after that, and he jumped to the tree to his left, landing in a lower branch, calling for their aid to find an easy crossing across the gently flowing river. He called of the trees to find a way he could leave this realm without getting wet in the process. All he needed was a branch spread over the river, something to make the long jump easier.
Upstream from his vantage point, the elf came across what he searched for, and a tree waved its discovery to him; its voice echoing to him where he sat, pleased for helping one of the first born. Following the trees' voice, Laitheryn thanked the content tree for its efforts and jumped to the promised hanging branch. It did not escape the young elf's notice that the branch on the opposite side of the river seemed to stretch its limbs further out to ensure his safe landing.
Lord Celeborn had stated his connection with nature was uncommonly strong, a trait not seemingly being lost by the elves that resided in the darkening lands. Nature was changing, from the benevolent voice that resided in all elves to something much darker. Something was corrupting nature, and only the few elves with the strongest gifts in tree empathy could dimly hear the cries as another tree fell to that darkness. Laitheryn had wondered if his connection to nature did not spawn from a random event or random chance but rather a natural gift graced to him at birth. If he had been born a woodelf, as he thought, that would explain why his connection to the surrounding lands was stronger than all of the other elves he had encountered thus far.
Woodelves were considered odd, outsiders, rural even. They did not have the sophistication that the high elves had achieved, nor did they seem to wish that knowledge. But those elves that would state their ancestry from Valinor and were proud of the accomplishments that their sect had made in the recent and far past; had lost something far more valuable than what they gained for their troubles. They might have knowledge, gems and jewels. But they lost the speech of nature, and would not regain it. Many could not hear what he did or with the clarity he achieved. Many did not hear the voices of the trees, and only relied on their instincts to be their only guide, and would not hear the trees whispering their own warnings. Many did not hear, but Laitheryn wondered why he did.
Off the shore of the Anduin the trees thinned further and soon there were none. Laitheryn stood at the edge of the forest for a moment, feeling very exposed and vulnerable. Without the cover of the forest he would be easily marked by those traveling Arda. He would have no problem with the human rangers, or with the uncorrupted animals. But it was the creatures touched with darkness that worried him, the ones that would hunt elves for their own satisfaction, orcs. They usually travelled in the cover of darkness, using the natural shadows to hide their own. Laitheryn would be in danger as long as he remained away from his own kind and far off from any elven realm. As long as he traveled during the bright hours of the day, and stayed out of sight at night he should be alright for the duration of the trip.
Lady Galadriel had offered him a Lorien horse for his use, but as only a few lived in that realm he had declined her offer. The Lorien patrol would have need of them, and losing even one was not tolerable and would weaken them. He declined; knowing that a horse would cut his travel time to a quarter, but said horse would make him more noticeable than if he traveled alone.
He had moved past the sparse trees of Lorien and had kept a strong pace through the first section of his journey. He would not have much time to complete this trek and the sooner it was over the safer he would be. He ran on, watching as the green lands gave way to brown grass, always checking his surroundings with a cautious eye, watching for anything amiss. Laitheryn listened as he ran, calling out in all directions to the sparse and spotted trees that sometimes cropped up ahead of him, using them as a guide to sense for any danger.
And without him really realizing how much time had passed from the beginning of his flight at the sanctuary of Lorien to where he stood now. The sun was low in the sky, hanging just above the horizon. Already the sun began to set, serenading him in deep gold, oranges and darkening purples of the upcoming night. He slowed at the edge of one of the thickets of trees, sheltered partially all around by the calming trees. He could continue on, to the next thicket and risk a run in with the creatures that began to infiltrate the peace with their deceptive cloaks of evil. He could continue on, but he would risk his life. The next thicket was far beyond what he could reach before the sun left his vigil over the lands and set beyond what he could even see. The trees told him he would not reach the next outcropping without some threat.
Unless he made for the trees at the southern end of Greenwood, with his elven eyes he could plainly see the edge of the forest. He would have time and some to spare if he entered the pitch forest realm. But there were dangers with that decision too, wolves hunted there in large numbers, Orcs would find it easy to hide there and ambush an unwary traveller and the spiders that were beginning to become a nuisance to the already distressed realm.
Laitheryn had been told of the newborn dangers that were just beginning to become apparent in the forest realm. Listening to the tale of the tale of the lone Greenwood elf, describe the creatures in exquisite detail. He had shivered then, in the warm sun of the golden glade, filled with some aversion to the dread spiders. Naturally he could not explain to anyone, even himself why he felt what he had at that moment.
The sun was deeper now, for the time he had spent lost in his own thoughts. It almost chose for Laitheryn what his course of action would be deciding he would stay in the protective glade of the few trees. He would listen to the pleas of the sparse trees to stay with them for the evening, and rest among their eaves for the remainder of the night. To move on would be foolish, even more foolish as night was already setting in and the moon was only a quarter full. He had all the protection he needed in this quiet glade, and when the sun was new in the morning sky he would move on once more. Laitheryn felt a flicker of relief now that the pressure of that decision had been cast off.
There was no need for a fire; Laitheryn did not need its warmth to survive the slightly chilled night. He was content with the clothes he wore, under the dark grey Lorien cloak. A fire's light in the darkness, when there was no other, would attract unwanted attention to his direction. He did not need to cook, having been giving a generous amount of Lembas for this journey. A small bite and a sip of water was all he needed to be content. A fire, while comforting, would be ill advised for the conditions he found himself in.
It would be better to disappear into the trees and stay off the ground.
Picking one at random, Laitheryn climbed high into the obscuring canopy and rested down against the bark, knowing that the pleased tree would blend him in until he was not visible from the ground. Indeed one could pass directly under the tree he was in and not know that someone was watching you. Not only he would be watching either, the observant tree would stretch its awareness out and be on guard for threats. Reaching inside for the link he had, Laitheryn gently touched his mind with the awareness emanating from the tree he was in and the ones around it. Laitheryn could sense their delight at his presence and wondered why it seemed that all trees delighted in his company so fully.
'Mellon Nin.' He whispered gently, directing his thoughts to all the trees around him. 'I am in need of your protection, in the coming cycle of the moon and stars.'
'Penneth, we rejoice that you would honour us with your presence. It has been so long since we have spoken to one of your kind and we have missed that. What need you from us? We are your humble servants.'
'Nay.' Laitheryn broke in. 'We are all equal in the eyes of the Valar. I do not wish to have you place yourselves lower than I, when there is no difference in our standing. I am in need of friends, not servants.'
'Your words are just and fair, Penneth. We will watch for the evil you fear, and will alert you if something draws near. Be at peace and rest.'
'Hannon le…' Laitheryn whispered in his mind.
Lying with his back to the responsive tree, Laitheryn listened to its quiet song as the sun finally left the horizon and the moon began her climb in the black sky. Stars flickered in the dim, bringing relief to the never ending black. The stars stood bravely against the darkness; giving some life and hope, that the darkness of night would end and the sun would reign the sky once more. The brightest of all, hung most north in the sky, near the mostly hidden moon.
Laitheryn lay there, for hours it seemed it seemed to him, just watching the sky and delighting in the seemingly endless progression of the night. Soon Laitheryn noted a shift in the song the trees whispered to him; lulling him further away from his thoughts. Soothed by the gentle radiance in the sky as well as the soothing song that drifted from the trees Laitheryn slept, drifting away from awareness so slowly that he could not recall the precise moment it had occurred.
He awoke once more to the gentle dawn, the sun which had been hidden in the night breaking through the pitch cloak of the night, and resuming his never ending cycle with the moon. Each would follow the others' course in the sky, until they met once more in a rare occurrence when the Valar allowed the lovers that honour. He had dreamed, and still held onto the remnants of the dream like a much valued treasure.
Laitheryn could not recall the beginnings of the dream or what had spawned it from his mind. Only that he was in an unknown house, a large room had stretched behind his dream image. Laitheryn could not see what he plainly knew to be true and did not recall his dream self turning to investigate his surroundings. Laitheryn drew from some unknown memory that it was a large room behind him with deep chairs set in a circle around a low table. Some sort of gathering room, painted an earthy toned red, and shadowed by flickers of the sun just breaking through the trees near the window and casting a myriad of their own patterns on the floor.
Dark timbers stretched like trees over his head to the roof of the building above, giving the impression that the room had been designed to mimic the outside, while still offering the protection of being indoors. Laitheryn drew further from some forgotten memory and recalled that the dark timbers of the room had carvings of leaves, designed onto the surface of the wood and barely visible unless you stood close. The twisting leaves ran from the lowest section of the timber up to the ceiling, where the timbers holding the roof stretched across and more resembled branches of trees than wood carved by immortal hand.
Books sat behind one of the couches, at a far wall, piled in some order onto an overwhelmed bookshelf. Laitheryn recalled the warm feeling that seemed to echo from the room in his memory – dream and knew he had spent many content hours in this room.
In the dream a voice echoed to him, a females' voice; one so beautiful that it nearly broke his heart just hearing it. She had called out to him, speaking to him with the name he still could not recall, her tone affectionate. She had called to him to come and watch with her the fire burning in the corner. She called him to come and sit with her and enjoy the contact.
He had turned in his dream, and caught sight of the elf that was his Nana. Her golden hair lay down her back in ringlets, hanging half out of intricate braids to brush her face. Her deep blue eyes, ones that he knew matched his, had been like a river on a foggy day, mid blue orbs that spoke of love and of happiness.
She wore a hazel green dress open at the shoulders, with a dark green shawl hanging off her back and ending in a cascade of green at her waist. Both the dress and the shawl had flickers of gold thread in them and it took Laitheryn a moment to recall that the golden threads became a pattern of leaves just visible as you approached her.
"Nana." A child's' voice had echoed in the dream, speaking at the same moment that Laitheryn had recalled who this beautiful, half familiar elf was.
She had said his true name once more, calling him to her side and lifting the child he had once been onto her lap when he responded to her call. There the dream ended, leaving him wishing he could have seen more.
Laitheryn had dreamed of his mother, and yet he could not help but wonder why he felt such sadness at the dream, and why he now felt like crying, at just the sight of her, the memory of her. Why the memory of his mother would hurt the way it had, he did not know. 'I am not the only one hurt by this pain I do not recall…Adar nin would have been too. I am distressed at the pain I feel inside, but I wish my past.'
Laitheryn had dreamed of his mother and of his home, his true home. And despite the dream being empty of description he had managed to recall enough to fill in the gaps of the dream - memory he had in the past night. This could only mean one thing, that despite the agony of the past his memories were returning slowly. It was like a much needed rain for a dry land; first only a few drops would fall, giving the residents small hope that the drought would end. And then a cascade of rain would come. He would remember small things first, flickers and impressions, giving him hope for the rest. And when he was ready his entire memory would cascade from the locked recesses of his mind and into his consciousness.
Laitheryn found himself wondering as he prepared to leave the protective glade of trees, what had occurred to his mother. He had not thought to ask after her in the glade with Galadriel, being more concerned with the image of his father. But now he wondered why he had not seen her in the mirror. Why the mirror had chosen to only show him his fathers' face? Why was she absent?
It was only a few moments later that Laitheryn continued on, not wishing to waste any more time of the dawning day on thoughts alone. He had to continue on his journey, no matter how painful it was to recall. He bid the trees a farewell and thanked them for their diligence in his protection.
Leaving again, he turned in east and started to trek across the never ending mid brown landscape, watching as the tall grasses slipped like a rivers water around him as he ran on, away from the protection offered by the lonely glade of trees that had become his temporary guards. He could still vaguely hear the gentle musings of the river he left behind and knew that soon he would lose that as he came closer to the most southern edge of Greenwood forest.
As he ran, covering more distance as the scenery almost blurred around him, Laitheryn continued to ponder the dream and its significance, his Nana's face forever recorded to his conscious mind.