I have used the lines to denote the passage of time, generally within months of each other.
The rains had ceased by the time Celebrin returned home and the young man, Lhiuwan, seemed to have recovered nicely in the time Celebrin spent obtaining the herbs. Celebrin noticed that the store was somewhat more depleted and he had hoped that the rainy season had brought enough water so that his corn and vegetables grew and that the valley below would soon support life for hunting again. That day however was not yet necessary and Celebrin mixed the dried herbs to make the poultice in a large shallow sandstone bowl. Using a mortar and pestle he grinded the herbs into a fine aromatic mixture; he then proceeded to make a salve, one that was useful in healing burns that had become infected – this would allow the wounds to heal and make it easier to maneuver the hand and train it to move again. As Celebrin unwrapped the hands, Lhiuwan looked in the distance half-heartedly, as though he did not hold much hope for the poultice. The cat played near the hearth, batting dying coals this way and that reveling in the sparks that flew and illuminated the dimly lit cave. Celebrin smiled at this and asked,
"How long have you known him?"
"Not very long…he was a ship cat at the port near where I lived; I protected him from the wild dogs that roamed near the port and he in turn hunted mice or other vermin…When I was shunned he followed me and has been my companion ever since, I do not know completely why."
"He likes you…you are his pet."
Lhiuwan laughed at this and then winced in pain as the wrappings were slowly removed, revealing freshly opened wounds where his gnarled hands once were. Celebrin looked pensively at them and murmured to himself,
"They should have healed a bit more than they have…it looks as though they have been re-burned…Did you touch the fire while I was gone?"
"No of course not! It is the curse…the wounds are never to heal…It is pointless."
"Perhaps not…I have seen this poultice work on several miraculous occasions, by less skilled hands than mine…It will not be easy work, and it will be painful."
Lhiuwan nodded that he understood what was being said; gingerly Celebrin applied the poultice to the wounds which Lhiuwan found aggravatingly painful, but the light foam that formed on his hand soon had a cooling effect and once the clean bandages were applied he felt little to no pain in his hands. As Celebrin washed the dirty rags and boiled them by the hearth Lhiuwan marveled at how little his hands hurt,
"You have excellent leech-craft Master Hermit…Had I known the Ute-Ashtegu were such skilled healers I would have journeyed westward sooner."
"This is not skill I had learned from the Ute…though the herbs they have worked with for many centuries…The poultice is a far older recipe, one from a time before the Ute were a people…before the shadow covered the land…"
Celebrin's memory recalled his training at the hands of the Laiquendi, the Green Elves of Ossiriand who migrated to the different regions of Eriador in the elder days when forest land covered all the wild regions west of the Misty Mountains. He remembered using that same poultice to heal Alphindil's wounds after the battle of Orodruin, when Sauron fell and the second age ended. Alphindil's wounds healed only superficially and a far deeper infection had set in them, which ultimately prevented him from being able to move his hand and leg again. The stray thought of his companion caused the elf to tear up and he wiped the small drop of salty tear from his cheek; Lhiuwan meanwhile stroked the cat, which had come and sat in his lap. Lhiuwan was healing from his fall rather quickly and his legs began to work as legs should; his voice was still raspy, though Celebrin could hear that it had once been beautiful. The youth and Celebrin talked about other matters such as the seasons or the growing of plants or the lands that faced the other sea.
As the weeks passed the young man was able to stand and walk again and despite the gnarled form of his hands he was able to perform some small tasks remarkably well, such as rolling rope made of yucca fibers or washing the cloths used to make his bandages. Every few days Celebrin would tend to the wound and add a new dose of the poultice; this particular mixture prevented disease from setting in and caused Lhiuwan's pain to numb so that he could function somewhat normally. Yet each time Celebrin removed the bandages the wounds seemed fresh as though they were newly burned; perhaps, Celebrin thought, that this was indeed a form of what mortals called magic…perhaps it was caused by something made by the Dark One long ago. Celebrin shook the thought from his mind and tried a new set of herbs to add to the poultice, slowly working his way through what could be causing the wounds to prevent their healing.
At night, while the young man slept, Celebrin sang songs of healing under the stars, songs taught to him by the Laiquendi and those once sung by his mother who was their kin. These songs told of unraveling the mysteries of the body and of the different medicinal herbs and minerals used for the treatment of burns. Yet still nothing worked; meanwhile, Lhiuwan began to recuperate and even joined Celebrin on foraging expeditions. The elf noticed how fleet of foot the young man was, and he smiled as he realized that the young man, though tortured, was good at heart, for he never took more than his share and made up for it in little ways. His face was still badly scarred and his throat never fully healed, remaining raspy and low the entire time. Sometimes Celebrin heard him humming to himself and growing frustrated at the fact that he could not hit a certain key or note without having to cough or clear his throat…
"Do you know any songs Master Hermit?"
Lhiuwan said to him one hot summer night as they ate their meal in the open air; the cat curled up beside the fire and Durandir neighed wildly in the distance, freely roaming the newly sprouted plains on the plateau.
"I know some old Ute songs and some from the Hamadjon…but I have not sung in a long time, I doubt I remember how."
Lhiuwan smirked at this and said sardonically,
"Surely you are not so old as to have forgotten, you look not much older than me…and your voice is still fair."
At this flattery Celebrin laughed and shook his head, patting Lhiuwan gingerly upon his knee, as one would do with a child,
"I am older than I look young one… and you could hardly know the words that I would sing to you."
"But that does not mean you cannot sing. Please…it has been many long years since I heard a fair voice sing…I need not understand the words just the tune and melody shall be food enough for me."
Celebrin raised one eyebrow, surely he thought to himself that a simple dock worker did not think of music as being food…only courtiers and princes could come up with such flowery language and think of music as food for the soul. Celebrin sighed and nodded his head,
"Very well Lhiuwan…I shall sing a small song…one that another taught me long ago."
Celebrin closed his eyes and began to hum a slight tune, an ancient one that the old medicine woman Jzathi-ma-ala taught to him when he first arrived. He sang of the foundation of the world, not the old tale he was taught as a child in the fastness of Doriath but another sung by ancient medicine women and men to the people of the Ute-Ashtegu even before they were Ute.
He sang of the beginning of the world, where the sky was dark and the void enclosed the world around and of the earth that was covered by a great sea; to that great sea was born a turtle that grew so vast that her shell peaked over the torrents of the ocean. He sang of the sea's second daughter the moon who danced upon the surface of her sister the Turtle and whose dim light called forth an ancient powerful being, the Sun from the far places of the void, where he dwelt alone. He sang of how Moon and Sun felt love for one another and how they bedded one another; yet the Sun being so lonely, violently hurt the Moon and she fled from him as she bled. They forever circle the earth and very few times would Sun and Moon meet again and their passion would be their undoing. He sang of how the Moon's children, the stars rose up to the sky and followed their mother this way and that, protecting her from their father.
He sang then of the first stars, the Greater Kadjinai, who settled upon the back of the Great Mother Turtle, which had grown so large that the sea was separated in great pools upon its back. They sang to life the first trees and plants from the deep soils that were embedded in Turtle's back; they created a paradise beneath the winding path of the Sun and Moon. These Greater Kadjinai and their children the Lesser Kadjinai came to dwell in the dark places of the Earth, beneath the eaves of the trees for they hated their father the Sun, who burned them as he drew near. The Greater Kadjinai then sang from the stones the People, the Ute and the Ashtegu, the Hamadjon and the Ayab-Mamuk and many others besides, who began to cover the land and subdue it to their will, sometimes with great success but always at a cost. And though they were hard as stone they withered with the winds of time and their works never endured, whereas the Lesser Kadjinai endured; they flowed with time like a leaf caught up in a river's current, for they contained within them the last remnant of the stars that were born from Sun and Moon on Earth…
Celebrin had sung so long that his voice became hoarse and yet he did not grow weary; he opened his eyes and found Lhiuwan asleep by the dying embers. Sighing and smiling Celebrin covered the young man with his cloak and still felt empowered by the music he had conjured in his heart. He descended the sheer cliff face and went to where the canyon stream flew the strongest; he thought of the Kadjinai that dwelt in the mountains to the North and wondered if in the dim silence of the night they had heard his song. Celebrin undressed himself and pulled his hair behind his leaf-pointed ears, something he had not done in the entire time that Lhiuwan had been living with him. He stepped into the waist deep stream and allowed the cool water to penetrate every pore on his skin; he felt the world around him begin to slow and time itself seemed to have no meaning. It was just as he had felt when he stumbled upon the lands of the Kadjinai, when Cidhrali was taken from him, and when Liniel took his hand and brought him into an elvish world that had never forgotten the lives they lived before Doriath. And slowly, almost like a faint whisper in the flowing of the current Celebrin heard a voice,
Come back to me, my child, my son… Long has your wandering taken you and far from your birthright…Immortal you were born and immortal you shall remain…Come back to me…Come to the Mother who never forgot the old ways…
With a start Celebrin opened his eyes and seemed to see before him a pair of shimmering lights, caught in the reflection of the full moon. They were joined by others, perhaps four more, Celebrin could not tell for they hovered in one place and then quickly they went out and reappeared in another place. Celebrin first felt fear, for he felt vulnerable and alone,
"You wish to take vengeance upon me then do you? For your fallen comrades? Then do it…death has ever followed me and I have evaded it, but no longer."
Spreading his arms Celebrin revealed his firm muscular form in the moonlight, unabashed and fearless of dart of steel; the light shimmered upon his skin and his hair danced with the light of ancient stars, for a brief time he felt his heart beating loudly, filling him with the ancient blood of his people…of the elves, the Eldar, the people of the stars. A snap of a twig opened his eyes and the floating lights were gone; gone also was the enchantment that flowed over him at that moment and he returned to the fleeting world of men. Lhiuwan's cat purred and meowed from the banks of the stream, a dead fish lying beside it; Celebrin smiled weakly and returned to the bank of the river, dressed himself, picked up both cat and fish and all the time feeling, for the first time in many years, like an elf again.
The night of singing had done Lhiuwan well and the poultices began to work, for the burns upon Lhiuwan's hands finally began to heal, slowly growing skin, where before there was charred or freshly red tissue. The healing was more painful than the exposed skin, especially when Celebrin had to clean the bandages and rip some of the new skin to do it and Lhiuwan always grimaced as he did so, yet never did he grow angry and kept his pain masked. Yet slowly for several months Lhiuwan's red, wet, bloody hands grew new skin and the youth marveled at the occurrence, even to the point of tears. After several months, when winter's chill slowly faded to new spring, Celebrin removed the bandages for the last time, judging Lhiuwan's skin to be strong enough to endure the elements; as he did this Lhiuwan looked at his restored arms as though he were seeing them for the first time. Tears came to his eyes and though they were still gnarled and misshapen he embraced Celebrin, kissing him upon the cheeks.
"I almost forgot what my hands looked like! You are miraculous!"
"The war has not been won yet…The skin has returned but now we must work on the muscles, to see if you can still get some use out of your hands… with time and training."
Lhiuwan nodded and could not take his smile from his face, though in truth the pain was still present in his hands, despite the skin. His face was now healing better and despite the large scars written upon his face Celebrin noted that he had once been a fair youth, a prince even. Celebrin slowly began loosening his hand muscles by alternating between massaging them and slowly opening and closing the fingers. This caused Lhiuwan great pain and beads of sweat formed readily each time they began to try to reshape the young man's hands. Celebrin went out into the wilderness and gathered herbs and minerals to use to make a salve that would loosen tense muscles, yet the gathering went slowly for the winter had brought no rain and the chill and frost had sent many useful herbs to sleep. Almost 11 months had passed since Celebrin had first met Lhiuwan and the two had become on more friendly terms; Celebrin began to let his guard down, at least only a little, allowing Lhiuwan to know that he came from Khavul the shimmering amber city to the south. He told him his name, Cedlal, the name that Cidhrali had given him all those years ago and it made Lhiuwan happy to know it, yet at times he still called him Master Hermit in jest. Celebrin told him of the peoples he had encountered, the tall, frightening and joyous Ayab-Mamuk, the fearless, stern and loyal Hamadjon, the kind-hearted and underestimated Ute-Ashtegu and finally he spoke of the ambiguous Numenoreans. Lhiuwan seemed to become interested in his tales of the Numenoreans, and like any youth he leaned in and asked, tentatively,
"What are they like? These men from the sea?"
Celebrin thought it over for some time as he knead bread in a sandstone bowl, finally he spoke
"Some can be noble and honorable to a fault and each one of them bears himself as a king of old; they hold true to their values and are compassionate and wise…others much less so. I suppose like all men they have the capacity for good or evil…but because they believe themselves to be so much higher in blood than others of their kind their faults and prejudices become more manifest, more visible. They are…they are like children who have never learned how to grow up."
Lhiuwan chuckled at this;
"You speak about them as though you do not approve of them; I have heard fascinating tales of their cities, the great parapets and walls of stone, their ships are said to be larger than a palace yet glide smoothly upon the water as a water serpent. I have always wanted to meet one…"
Lhiuwan smiled and sighed wrapping his arms around his knees, like a child. Celebrin arched his eye brow and shook his head,
"I have seen many cities built of stone…and the only thing for a city built of stone left to do is for it to fall. I turn my eye to the things that endure…the wild places of the world, for even after the summer blaze sets in the grasses and all the world smolders in summer's flame the grasses and trees flower on, and the rain returns."
The two continued to talk about such matters as the night dragged on. Weeks would pass as Lhiuwan and Celebrin talked and slowly Lhiuwan began to obtain more control of his hands, at first his forefingers could bend and move on their own, yet with great effort and pain to the young man. But soon these became as moveable as they had once been, then slowly the other fingers began to move as though no disease or burn afflicted them. Lhiuwan would never fully be rid of the burning sensation beneath his skin and it would take a very long time for him to move his fingers one by one, independently. It would be another few weeks before his palm would begin to move and his thumb, yet Celebrin marked how quickly the young man began to recover and how dearly he relished the ability to move his hands again. With all the exercises and salves that Celebrin created, Lhiuwan no longer had misshapen hands that were gnarled by flame and torture. Aside from some redness and swelling they could move independently, though when the young man was at rest his hand would return to their former gnarled position, like a closed blossom at night time.
As the use of his arms and hands became better, Lhiuwan helped Celebrin plant and gather grain and vegetables in the terraced gardens that were built into the cliff's side. The two laughed and spoke of many things, yet ever did Lhiuwan wish to tell of his former sins to Celebrin, for often he would brood in dark thoughts and look at his hands saying things like,
"If you only knew what sins I have done and what salvation you have given me…"
Yet ever did he stop there and would embrace Celebrin in thanks. Celebrin humored the youth and as the strength returned to his hands Lhiuwan began accompanying Celebrin into the wilderness to hunt in Spring's new season of game. It was at one of these hunting trips that Lhiuwan asked Celebrin,
"Why do you not show me your face?"
"You have seen my face before young one…it has not changed since then."
Celebrin often kept the elvish shimmer of his eyes hidden by the shadow of the cowl and he did this also to cover the leaf point of his ears. He knew not why he did this, for Lhiuwan had endeared himself into the elf's heart and they trusted one another as dear friends in the short time they had been together. Perhaps he felt a sense of foreboding and danger from the young man, ever mindful of the warnings he was told by the old Khand merchant all that time ago. Yet the youth did not seem dangerous, in fact when he was not joyful of his healed hands he was often sullen and forlorn, especially when he was alone- a mood Celebrin was long used to. Then he thought to himself,
Why do I hide myself from him? Surely he has earned my trust and confidence by now?
Celebrin opened his mouth then suddenly he heard a twig breaking, nearby; his ears pricked up and he barely had time to move away when an arrow flew right past his head. A hissing sound came from the dark brush of the canyon wilderness and a figure darted away as a hooting call came out. Celebrin drew his bow and his heart began to beat faster; he barred his teeth like a wild animal and his eyes became keen, the Kadjinai had returned to attack him, he thought. Lhiuwan crouched beside him, the youth was unarmed save for a simple stone, which he threw at rabbits and his eyes grew wide in fear,
"They have come for me! They have come to enact their vengeance upon me!"
Like a mad man he ran into the brush, while Celebrin called after him; making a quick decision he ran after the youth as dark figures followed him their darts and arrows flying past him as he moved like a wind in the branches, barely touching the floor. Lhiuwan was fey and ran weeping and crying out in fear; he hardly noticed the arrow that flew towards him and struck his thigh and he tripped over himself, landing upon his face, his forehead striking the stony ground. When Celebrin reached him he stood over the unconscious youth, keeping Lhiuwan's body low to the ground, his bow drawn and at the ready, the elf shouted out into the wild canyon brush in the tongue of the Ute,
"Leave now! This is not your land!"
A dark figure approached,
"Who are you to say whose land this is not?"
Celebrin was taken aback by the tongue that came from the shadow; it was Alamb-Harad the tongue of the East. When the figure approached, he saw a dark skinned man wearing the hunting garb of the Skull clan, a tribe that had once been part of the Ute-Ashtegu but fled into the wilderness when they decided to help the Gondorians.
"I am the Hermit, and I have lived in this land for many years…This stream and this forest belong to the Ute-Ashtegu…as members of that tribe you have right to hunt here as much as I…but unless you have reduced yourselves to the eating of man-flesh then I must ask you to leave me and my friend be!"
"How do we know you are who you say you are stranger? The Hermit is a name long known among our people, he is a spirit they say that haunts these lands and who enacts vengeance on any who dare pretend to be him!"
With great force and will Celebrin removed his hood and revealed himself in his true light; his eyes blazoned forth and the point of his ears could clearly be shown as his hair shimmered now undimmed with the light of the ancient stars of Doriath; the man stepped back and shuddered his eyes at seeing an ancient elf revealed in the glory of the elder days.
"Forgive me ancient one… We have heard tales of you and that you lived in this wilderness, yet I did not believe them true…but he is one who bears the markings of an exile…it is better that we kill him now!"
"Approach him and you will surely die! Leave now and find another place in this valley to hunt!"
As if to make his stern command clearer an errant thunder clap filled the air and the other shadows that surrounded him seemed to shudder in fear. The other man nodded and seemed greatly frightened by what he saw; Lhiuwan, whose face was still looking upon the ground and who had barely come to his senses wept horridly and he would not get up until Celebrin knelt beside him and helped him to his feet. Celebrin re-hooded himself and draping the youth's arm over his shoulder helped him back to the cave. The rain began to fall suddenly as they neared the cave; taking the long sloping path that led up to the storage room the two entered the cave and Celebrin sat the youth gently near the hearth. Lhuiwan was still breathing heavily and crying, yet he tried to hide his face from Celebrin who began to undress and get into warmer clothes.
"You are safe now Lhiuwan…they will not come for you."
"I thought…oh I thought the demons would come for me when they saw that I was happy."
Furrowing his brow Celebrin knelt beside the youth and held his hand,
"No demons shall plague you, not while I draw breath… Come let me see the wound."
Celebrin took off Lhiuwan's trousers, rolling them slowly off so that they did not touch the thigh wound. The arrow had only sliced Lhiuwan yet the slice was deep and needed stitching. As he cleaned and stitched the wound shut, Lhiuwan took control of his emotions and began to calm down,
"Why did they run away from you? I thought that they would surely kill us both!"
"They were not demons, they were men… And men are easily frightened when they think they behold a spirit-being."
"Is that what you are?"
Chuckling Celebrin patted Lhiuwan on the knee and said,
"A hermit is a sacred person to them…I invoked that position and it was just by luck that the thunder came when it did."
Celebrin smiled reassuringly at Lhiuwan and as his eyes fell upon the youth he noticed that his hair had fallen in front of his face, yet behind his black tresses the elf could see blood.
"You hit your head, let me see the damage done"
Celebrin moved to brush the hair from the youth's face and as he pushed it behind the youth's ear he noticed something odd about the structure beneath the heavy straight folds of black hair. Instead of the gentle curve that was normal for humans he felt a definite point where the upper lobe should have been. The elf stopped for a moment as Lhiuwan froze in fear; thinking he was imagining things Celebrin pushed the hair back further and saw to his amazement something he had not expected. Lhiuwan's ear was as pointed as his own; the gentle leaf-tip point was clearly visible now in the light of the hearth. The two sat in silence for a small eternity and Celebrin stepped back, his brow furrowed in confusion,
"Ele…"
He said, shocked and astonished at finding another elf in the wilderness of the east, the fairness of his face and the light in his eyes now seemed clear to him, as though hidden in plain sight- before him sat one of the Eldar, of this much he was now sure. Lhiuwan looked at him with an equally shocked expression, his ageless eyes wide with fear and awe,
"What did you just say?"
,he said, his voice quivering with anticipation. Celebrin, his hands shaking, removed his cowl and pulled back his own raven black hair behind the leaf points of his ears. When Lhiuwan beheld the points of Celebrin's ears and the stars in his eyes, he sighed and said,
"Ele…indeed"
They sat in silence for a much longer time now taking stock of what had just happened; Lhiuwan was the first to stir and getting to his feet with much effort he walked over to where Celebrin stood, frozen in fear and joy. Lhiuwan gently raised his hand and touched the curve of Celebrin's earlobes and felt as they rose to the leaf point at the top, chuckling he quickly embraced Celebrin and shouted in Sindarin,
"I thought…I thought I was lost! I thought that I would never…ever… see another of my kin again! Ai Brother! Brother, I now name you, by the stars of Varda herself! Mae Govannen, well met beneath the stars!"
Lhiuwan laughed as he tightly embraced Celebrin, who was reduced to tears as he heard the tongue of his people, Sindarin, spoken by the youth he called Lhiuwan. Embracing the other elf Celebrin cried into his shoulder, overwhelmed with the joy of finding another elf exiled in the East…
Suddenly this joy was short lived for Celebrin's memory came to him of the Eldar who have been exiled in the long history of the elves and the list was short…
The first was himself, a son of Doriath
The second was Daeron who had since faded into shadow and mist it was said,
And the third…the third was not Sindar at all, yet his hands were burned beyond use, his voice once fair and filled with music, now made hoarse from the pain inflicted by a fateful jewel long ago…at the shores of Avernien,
Celebrin was suddenly filled with great rage and anger and with unlooked for strength he pushed Lhiuwan away from him against the wall,
"NO!"
He screamed filled with the sudden realization of who the elf was that starred at him now in disbelief and dejection. After that year of friendship and healing, of tender care and protection and laughter, Celebrin looked upon the other elf standing before him covered in wet clothes…
"No, no, no, no! It cannot be!"
, he kept telling himself, his body shivered in fear and loathing and it felt like his heart had broken once again… And now he saw the youth's face for the first time in all its fairness; it was a face he had seen before, at the destruction of Doriath; it was once a face filled with bloodlust and rage then, the face that ordered his mother killed upon the throne of Thingol, with naught but a sneer and a elitist glance…The face of Lhiuwan now red from the glow of the hearth was unmistakably the face of the last of the Feanorion, the face of Maglor.
