Chapter 10- The Elder
**Inkama
Gloomy plains dried by the burning rays of the sun for more than two days! Suffice to say that I was happy to reach my destination at the end of this tedious travel during which I had only simple dreams. However, near the wood Lôsteorra neighs vigorously and brusquely changes our route. I try to balance myself then modify our trajectory; without any success. Certainly I could have chosen to bivouac outside of the forest to avoid a night exploration but I have the feeling that I have to do this now. So I dismount while keeping the reins in my hand: « Do not worry, all will be alright. ». The mare stops her struggle but gives me an accusing neigh « You are right, it is a lie. I do not know what awaits there; I am as scared as you are. I told myself that we could rely on each other in this adventure? ». Lôsteorra neighs again « Ok stay here » I say while tidying her reins to a tree in front of us « Don't feel guilty if I die. ». 'I have to admit that this ancient forest is not very welcoming.' I thought while I enter the premises. Fangorn is so opaque that the light of the moon and the stars shine little through it; however I can decipher some old twisted trucks, a rough ground, and silence...only the sound of my boots against the moss, the twigs and the stones...I shiver unconsciously. « Is there someone? » I say my hand on my sabre's guard. I glance at a thick truck covered by moss expecting that it comes to life from one second to the other but it did not. « My name is Inkama daughter of Thêvan, member of the Cuvar. I have been chosen by the Creative Mother. » I state to anyone who is willing to listen, feeling stupid. However cracks, grinding noises and humming answer my call. In order to be prepared for any eventuality, I translate my introduction in the old haradrim language: « Eṉ peyar Inkama makaḷ Thêvan, Cuvar oru uṟuppiṉar. Nāṉ am'mā paṭaippāḷar mūlam tērvu ceyyappaṭṭār. » A few seconds later, heavy steps are pounding the ground. While vibrations are getting stronger, I look upon...an Ent. I cannot describe it or him except talking about a slender tree with brown-yellow bark and oval green leaves though it is not a tree but an Ent. No old book illustration could have prepared me for that. In accordance with what I have read in Mardil's manuscript, it seems useless to draw my sabre. The only weapon that I have left now is my mind.
-« What are you? You, who is disturbing the peace of this forest.» The Ent harshly questions me;
-« I am a woman of Harrad. » I state with more insurance than I feel;
-« A Man... » the creature begins while inspecting me with his yellow eyes very closely.
-« Indeed. I am Inkama, daughter of Thêvan.» I confirm;
-« Ah! You can call me Fladrif, it falls to me to lead you to the Elder. » the old Ent growls, then adds: « She awaits you. »
-« She ? A She-Ent awaits me? I thought they were lost. » I ask with curiosity;
-«You ask too much question and I do not like talking to Men. » Fladrif rebuffs me before lifting me off the floor without any effort. The bad temper of the Ents is no legend. Despite his harsh words, the creature does not try to harm me: his prehension is gentle. Settled that way, we are going deeper in the forest and I refrain from asking him about this 'Elder' given his mood, however my mind can stop making assumptions: 1/I am about to meet the Elder of Ents; 2/I am about to meet the Creative Mother, the Elder of every living creature except the Creative Father and the Chaos.
Finally Fladrif drops me off. I hear him going away but I cannot see as I am dazzle by a bright light. While the rays decrease, I see the Creative Mother which confirms my number two theory. She is wearing black, red and gold as in my latest dream. Her noble face is turn toward me. I respectfully bow: it is one thing to meet her in my dream, another entirely to be in her presence. Raising my head, I clearly see her majestically standing on a rock lined by trees like a queen surrounding by her Court. The feeble night lights reveal a nature which has suffer from heat...except for the trees perhaps too far away. .
-« Iṟutiyāka, nām eṉ kuḻantai eṅkaḷ carīra uṟaikaḷ cantikka. [Finally we meet in our envelop of flesh my child.- old haradrim language] » The voice of the Creative Mother strangely echoes around me;
-« Iṟutiyāka. [Finally. - old haradrim language] » I say surprised that my voice is so clear in front of her!
-« Nīṅkaḷ piṉpaṟṟa vēṇṭum eṉṉa tayārā? [Are you ready for what is coming? - old haradrim language] » She asks with softness;
-« Nāṉ eppaṭi tayārāka irukka muṭiyum, eṉakku eṉṉa kāttirukkiṟatu eṉṟu eṉakku teriyātu. [How can I possibly be ready, I do not know what is awaiting me - old haradrim language] » I reason without taking account of the status of my interlocutor. I have to get a grip on myself.
-« Nalla patil. [Good Answer. - old haradrim language] » She replies as she seems amused by my audacity then her face finds her usual presence « Uṉṉuṭaiya vākkuṟuti ñāpakam irukkiṟatā? [Do you remember your promise? - old haradrim language] »;
-« Eṉ vāḻkkaiyil cattiyam maṟṟum uṅkaḷ kuḻantaikaḷai pātukākka maṟṟum uḷḷattil eppōtum taṅkaḷ nalaṉkaḷai vēṇṭum eṉ aṉpukkuriyavarkaḷiṉ anta. Inta viṣayam kāṭṭik koṭuppukkaḷ, vali, tuṉpam, etirkālattil eṉṉuṭaiyatu tāṉ eṉṟu taṉimai. [I promise on my life and the life of the one I love to protect your children and have their best interests in mind. This is in spite of the betrayals, the pains, the loneliness which will be mine in future. - old haradrim language] »
I recite while measuring my commitment. The Creative Mother rewards me with a « Cari. [Good. - old haradrim language] » however before going further I have to know a few things:
-« Nāṉ uṅkaḷai oru kēḷvi kēṭkalāmā? [May I ask you something? - old haradrim language] »;
-« Nīṅkaḷ enta illāmal iruntiruntāl, nāṉ caṟṟē ēmāṟṟam iruntirukkum... [If you had not questions, I will be somewhat…disappointed - old haradrim language] » she answers her eyes shining;
-« Nāṉ avvāṟu ceytāl nāṉ maṟuparicīlaṉai ceyvēṉ: Ēṉ... Ēṉ? [I would be remiss if I do so there it is: why...why me? - old haradrim language] » If I had to die for this cause at least I wanted to know why I had been designated.
-« Nāṉ nīṅkaḷ atika nampikkai eṉṟu niṉaittēṉ. Cari, nīṅkaḷ terintu koḷḷa vēṇṭum eṉṉa eṉṟāl: Nīṅkaḷ cīraṟṟa tērvu illai teriyum eṉpatāl, nīṅkaḷ mūṉṟu cōtaṉaikaḷai kaṭantu iruntatu... [I thought you had more self-confidence. Well, if it is what you wanted to know: as you know you have not been chosen randomly, you had to succeed three tests... - old haradrim language] » the Creative Mother begins;
-« Kuḻantaikku pāmpukaḷ kaṭittāl nāṉ uyir piḻaikka vēṇṭum. Itu mutal cōtaṉai. Iraṇṭāvatu, nāṉ oru anniyaṉ kāppāṟṟa vēṇṭum, ellāvaṟṟiṟkum mēlāka oru kuḻantai maṟṟum eṉ tantai tiyākam... [I had to survive being bitten by snakes as a child. It was the first test. For the second, I had to save a stranger, a child above all and sacrifice my father... - old haradrim language] » As I evoke the dream, I feel sadness in my heart and tears are near. I clear my voice and go on with my reasoning: « Mūṉṟāvatāka, nāṉ eṉṉai viṭa nāṉ niṉaikkiṟēṉ māṟāka maṟṟavarkaḷ tērnteṭukka vēṇṭiyiruntatu. [And finally for the third I had to choose between other and myself I suppose - old haradrim language] »
-« Inta tulliyamāṉatu. Nīṅkaḷ aṉaittu veṟṟikaramāṉa niṉaikkiṟīrkaḷā? [True. Do you think that everyone of them has succeeded? » the Creative Mother asks but expects no answer from me, « Nīṅkaḷ inta cōtaṉaikaḷiṉ pōtu demontrais, tiṟamai eṉṟu colluṅkaḷ? [Tell me which skill you showed during this tests? - old haradrim language] » she continues;
-« Mutal cōtaṉai uṭal maṟṟum maṉa etirppu paṟṟi iruntatu, atu eḷitāṉatu. Mūṉṟāvatu... Nāṉ paḻaimaivātam colkiṟēṉ āṉāl iraṇṭāvatu, patil kaṇṭupiṭikka mikavum kaṭiṉamāka uḷḷatu. Inta tiyākattiṉ arttattaip paṟṟi nāṉ niṉaikkiṟēṉ. Nāṉ oru kuḻantaiyai kāppāṟṟuvataṟkāka eṉ tantaiyai tiyākam ceyya vēṇṭiyiruntatu. Avaḷ oruvēḷai uṅkaḷuṭaiya piḷḷaikaḷaip piratinitittuvappaṭuttiṉāḷ. [The first ordeal was about physical and mental resistance, it is easy. The third...I will say altruism but for the second, the answer is more difficult to find. I think this is about the meaning of sacrifice. I mean I had to sacrifice my father in order to save a child. She perhaps even represented your children. - old haradrim language] » I say scrutinizing her face in order to determine if I am on the right track. Of course her face remains impassive.
-« Ciṟanta, eṉ nōkkam paranta eṉṟu tavira: Nāṉ terintu koḷḷa vēṇṭum, allatu māṟāka nāṉ nīṅkaḷ aṟiyappaṭāta aṟiyappaṭukiṟatu tiyākam ceyya muṭintatu eṉṟāl nīṅkaḷ terintu koḷḷa virumpiṉār. [Excellent, with the exception that my aim was broader: I wish to know or more accurately I wish you to know that you could sacrifice the know for the unknown - old haradrim language] » The Creative Mother gives me time to reflect on her words; it allows me to address hotter topics:
-« Nāṉ nīṅkaḷ iraṇṭu iṟuti kēḷvikaḷ kēṭkalāmā? [May I ask you last two questions? - old haradrim language] »;
-« Kaṭanta iraṇṭu nām ceyya atika ēṉeṉil. [Last two because we have a lot to do. - old haradrim language] » she grants me with indulgence;
-« Tavaṟiyavarkaḷukku eṉṉa naṭantatu? [What has happened to those who have not succeeded? - old haradrim language] » I am so tense that my own voice seems foreign;
-« Atai nīṅkaḷ etaiyum māṟṟa uḷḷatā? [Will it change anything for you? - old haradrim language] » she harshly replies;
-« Illai, nāṉ appaṭi niṉaikkavillai. [No, I do not think so. - old haradrim language] » I confess almost inaudibly;
-« Cila nīṅkaḷ kāttirukka eṉṟu, maṟṟavarkaḷ ituvarai varavillai vēṭṭaiyil iṟantār. Avarkaḷ maṟati virumpiya. [Some have died during the quest that awaits you; other does not reach this point. They have wished oblivion. - old haradrim language] » the Creative Mother answers with softer voice then adds: « Uṅkaḷ kaṭaici kēḷvi eṉṉavāka irukkum? [What will be your last question? - old haradrim language] »;
-« Ithilann paṟṟi, nāṉ uṇmaiyil vēṇṭum... [Concerning Ithilann, do I have really to... - old haradrim language] » this time I cannot resolve myself to finish my sentence. If only she could confirm that the Wises of Harad are mistaken once more. Oh Mother have mercy!
-« Uṅkaḷ eriyum kēḷvi itu illai?! Inta payaṇattiliruntu nī eṉṉa takkavaittuk koḷḷa muṭiyum? [There is your burning question it is not?! Tell me what could you retain from this journey? - old haradrim language] » When I really need an answer, it seems that I am about to hear more charades...Great!
-« Eṉakku teriyātu... Nāṉ tērnteṭukkappaṭṭavaṉ, uṅkaḷ kuḻantaikaḷai pātukākka eṉ poṟuppu. [I don't know…I am the chosen one, it is my responsibility to protect your children. - old haradrim language] » I say while my weariness faintly peak trough my voice;
-« Valatu. [Exact. - old haradrim language] » she confirms as is all had already been said;
-« Eṉakku puriyavillai... [I do not understand... - old haradrim language] » I comment hesitant;
-« Nīṅkaḷ, oru nāḷ. Ippōtu, uṅkaḷ kaṭamaiyai niṟaivēṟṟum poruṭṭu, uṅkaḷ piḷḷaikaḷāl uṅkaḷ aṉpaḷippuṭaṉ eṉṉiṭamiruntu eṭukkappaṭṭatai nīṅkaḷ pārkka vēṇṭum. Eṉiṉum nīṅkaḷ eṉṉaip paṭikka iṉṉum palamāka illai. Muṉṉāl nī eṉ neruppiliruntu vaḷara vēṇṭum. Veṭka paṭātē; kavur eppaṭi uṅkaḷukku kaṟṟuk koṭuttār eṉṟu eṉakkut teriyum. [You will, one day. Now, in order to fulfil your duty you must see how my children have been taken from me with your gift. However you are not strong enough yet to read me. Formerly you must nourish from my fire. Do not be shy; I know that the Cuvar has taught you how. - old haradrim language] » she says while gesturing me to climb on her rock. I let myself be guided and softly hold her hands. « Ahhh ! » : The burning sensation is so strong that I have to release them instantly; however my hands are intact. I repeat the operation holding this time just one of her hands. The pain is overwhelming...my entire body is shaking...I struggle to formulate coherent thoughts...the pain...let go...hold...burn alive...it fades away...yes! The more I nourish myself the more the pain weakens...but not as quicker as I wanted...« Oṉṟu tuṣpirayōkam ceyyātīrkaḷ. [Do not abuse this either.] » the Creative Mother interrupts me, « Nallatu, ippoḻutu eṉ kaṭantakāla kuḻantaikku ṭaiv. [Good, now dive into my past child. - old haradrim language] »
Once again I find myself on these familiar hills where I had met for the first time in my dream the Creative Mother. When I use my gift, images come to me with more or less details; however this time I am literally thrown to the place of the memory. In front of me the creatures that North Men call Laurelin –with golden rays- and Telperion –with silver rays- stand proudly. As for me, Laurelin is in fact the incarnation of the Creative Mother. That being said, what about Telperion? Is he an incarnation of the Creative Father? I do not have the time to linger on thisthought since height elves are coming dangerously close to me. I cannot help but hold my breath even thought I know they can perceive me.
-« Vanima! » one of the ageless creatures exclaims in an unknown language. He is wearing luxurious clothes stamp by a strange symbol –a star producing some sort of warm rays-, a sword with a well wrought pommel and a small dark golden crown. Ithilann told me that they are numerous clans among elves and as many royal dynasties. Surely he is some kinglet. He has long brown hair, a lengthened pallid face, a straight nose, thin lips and small light eyes sunken in his sockets emphasised by slight shadows under them and very well drawn eyebrows. I could not say he was lacking grace but something about him was...disturbing.
-« Nāṉ anta moḻiyil pēca vēṇṭām. [I do not speak this language. - old haradrim language] » I say out loud hoping that one way or another the Creative Mother hear me;
-« Eṉ maṉatil oru taṭṭuvataṉ. [Use my knowledge. - old haradrim language] » she answers without being heard by the protagonists of this memory and I try to do as I am told even thought I do not know exactly how.
-« Ná Atar, ëas valima ! [You are right Father, they are magnificent!] » another elf with brown hair -who resembles the kinglet- admits. I succeed! It is so strange to be able to understand a language that I know nothing about!
-« á yétal ! Manyel yáva yávar. [Look! the female carries fruits.] » an elf looking like the former ones as well except for the silver colour of his hair underlines. While they talk, the Edhill –as this people called themselves- are coming closer, circling ''Laurelin'' and Telperion. The father's eyes reflecting a rare intelligence are focused on a spot near me.
-« írimë yávar neldë sinë kúlpar sinwavë ivrini erdi [These three beautiful fruits contain surely fertile stones.] » the kinglet adds, his voice hoarse and languishing as a snake undulating on shingle. That is when yellow eyes have appeared into the truck of Telperion while his mouth is grown hollow:
-« Mana Fëanáro, CunduNoldoronméra ? [What do you want Fëanor, Prince of Noldor?] » I seem to recall that Noldor are a people of elves living in Rivendell under the authority of Lord Elrond; at least for those who remains in Middle Earth. As for this Prince Fëanor, –who is not a king apparently-his name is not unknown to me however I cannot exactly recall where I have heard about him. In a few words the annoyance of the luminous tree leaks out and I have a bad feeling about this.
-« Mérarlvë tatallatalmë. [To admire you.] » a redhead elf answers who was quiet until now. As soon as he says this, the Edhill chain the ''Trees'' with a tie that produces a strange purple glow. ''Laurelin'' and Telperion writhe in pain and I witness their falls powerless.
-« Nāṉ avarkaḷ nīṅkaḷ cariyāṉa Am'mā Paṭaippāḷar iruntirukkum kuṭṭiccāttāṉkaḷ eppaṭi eḷiya puriyavillai? [I do not understand how simple elves could defeat you Creative Mother?] » I ask out loud in the old haradim language while the impact of such fall still reverberates deeply in these lands.
-« Avar cutantarikkappōkiṟa kūṭātu ētāvatu iruntatu. [They had an object they were not supposed to have. - old haradrim language] » the Creative Mother explains darkly. As the tremor comes to an end, two of the elves climb nimbly on Laurelin and tear her three fruits away from her, their hearts deaf to her sobs or her screams. The scene is so dreadful that I have to look away, so my eyes falls upon the Prince of Noldor who is busy pouring a sticky liquid around the ''Trees''.
-« á anta sí híniya nin var maluvanyëldë ! riptuvanyëldë ! hóciruvanyëlya hónilma ! vestëanyë sinë, vestëanyë sinë… [Give me my children right now or I will squash you! I will eviscerate you! I will rip your heart out! I promise, I promise…] » As Telperion threaten his voice which reflects his anger and his distress dies on the latest syllables;
-« A nanwenë híniya ! hyamanyëldë! antuvanyëldë ilqua haryëanyë, apa ala híniya ! [Give me my children back I beg you! I will give you all that I have, but not my children! » the Creative Mother pleads while the Edhill take flight. Once they reach Prince Fëanor, he knocks two stones together and a spark sets ablaze the strange liquid on the ground so a wall of fire erects, trapping the ''trees'' inside.
-« Nai hútuvanyëldë.lyë and yondorlya. Nai nauva coiviërlma er nwalma and eri niër. Nai uan samëlmë híni. Nai uar estuvar essilma ló véra hasnórën. [Be cursed. You and your sons. Be it that your lives remain pain and tears. Be it that you have no descendants. Be it that your names are kept quiet by your own people.] » Telperion roars as he is still tied up to Laurelin whose sobs are increasing; and soon these cruel elves disappeared into the dark of this endless night. My heart broke. 'No one has come to help them?' I ask myself as interminable minutes elapse...I wish I could flee this awful memory but I am powerless. While I am still hearing the painful moan of the two ''Trees'', I perceive two faces through the flames: a man of mature age and...the Creative Mother? What is...?:
-« Avar nīṅkaḷ varukiṟatu? Nāṉ nī'' Laurelin'' eṉṟu niṉaittēṉ... [Is it you? I think you were ''Laurelin''…- old haradrim language] »;
-« Atu nāṉ illai, anta nērattil, atu Arien iruntatu. '' Peṇcūriyaoḷi'' eṅkaḷ moḻiyil. Eṉ mutal tōṟṟattai Laurelin eṉṟu... Nīṅkaḷ piṉṉar ēṉ teriyum. [In those days it wasn't me, it was Arien. ''MaidenofSunlight'' in our language. My first appearance is the one of Laurelin…You will know why later. - old haradrim language] » the Creative Mother answers. Arien, there is a name I cannot forget. It seems she is not a simple invention by North Men but actually exists...:
-« Arien... Nām oru uṭaṉpaṭikkai ceytu malarkaḷ pārkka vicittiramāṉa oppaṭaittār? [Arien… the one to whom the surveillance of your flowers was entrusted? - old haradrim language] »;
-« Vēṭikkai yōcaṉai, nīṅkaḷ eṉṟu yār coṉṉatu? [Strange idea. Who has told you this?! - old haradrim language] »the Creative Mother replies; -« Oru hāpiṭ. [A hobbit. - old haradrim language] »I say simply;
-« Ham, kiriyēṭṭiv tantaiyaip pātukāppataṟkāka avar cattiyam ceyyavillai, nāṉum eṅkaḷ piḷḷaikaḷum. [Hum, no she swore to protect the Creative Father, me and our children. - old haradrim language] »the Creative Mother clarifies. I guess that is what happens to a true story after many years. While I ask these specifications to the Creative Mother, in this time Arien undresses then goes through the wall of fire without being hurt. There, she rushes to the two giants and tries to untie them.
-« Massë néstë ?! [Where were you?!] » Telperion interrogates them, his tone accusatory;
-« Utúliënyë allimbë nai pollënyë. [I have came as fast as I could.] » Arien answers nervously;
-« Násëmáravalta, lenwetëalyëmmë sinomë and autëalyë sin. Fëanáro, leuca sina !, amápië híniya nin as yondoryanen otso. á hirëltë silumë cé mera avatyarnesalëmma. [It is useless, leave us here and go already. Fëanor, this snake! has taken my children with the help of his seven sons. Find them now if you want our forgiveness.] » The Creative Mother's voice is harsh but who can judge her? Arien stands up swiftly and chases after them, her companion in her wake.
-« Avarkaḷ kaṇṭu viṭṭaṉarā? [Did they find them?- old haradrim language] » I ask finally;
-« Illai, atu eḷiya illai iruntatu. [No, it was not that easy.] » the Creative Mother confides me with sadness. The silhouettes of Arien and the mysterious man are fading away into the darkness, as this night gives way to the day.
- « Pâlânkâlkôtûppavar » Telperion says to a woman walking in our direction. Nice! Another language that is unknown to me except the sonority of this one closely resembles the old haradim language. In order to translate this word, I do the exact same thing as before and get the name ''GiverofFruits''.
-« Atu, oru quenya, peyar... [It is a quenya first name,…] » the Creative Mother clarifies, «Oru Quenya, atu molipeyarkka. […translate this in quenya,…]» Following her instructions, I end up with ''Yavanna''. Wait! I know this name!
- « Tulukhedelgorûs, Ibrîniðilpathânezel [''SongofGold'' –Laurelin in quenya-, ''SilverTree'' –Telperion in quenya-.] » the so-called Yavanna greets in return. If I recall correctly, this woman was a current character in Master Gamgee's tale and I ask myself how much harm time has done to her story.
-« ''CanLaiṭMeyṭan'' en ûtâvi cerppâtan mûlam dûcted, enakku vântatû. Avaḷ kûra uṇârcci... [''MaidenofSunlight'' – or Arien in quenya- has came to me asking for my help. She feels guilty…] »Yavanna begins. Her skin has the colours of a young soil washed by a morning rain. Her big brown eyes and her thick lips are admirably counterbalanced by her fine nose. Her brown hair is pulled back in a loose bun. A few free locks rest here and there on her flowing white dress that she is currently wearing as well as a long jacket of a ripe peachy shade. The two clothes are tied together with the help of a bronze scarf with complex pattern such that they hold as one.
-« Atu, anku onrû ullâtu ''CanLâitmêytân'' marrûm nam mai pâtukâkka ânâiyittâ marrûm nî enkê iruntây ''Kompu'' ? ll Oruvêḷai avarkâl kûtâ inta pâmpu Fëanor cêrntu kontâ ullanâ. [She should be, 'MaidenofSunlight'' – or Arien in quenya- and ''theHorned'' –Tilion in q.- had sworn to protect us and where were they hum?! Perhaps they even are in cahoots with this snake of Fëanor.] » the Creative Mother -then under the appearance of Laurelin- explodes. Surely Tilion is the name of the mystery man who accompanied Arien. I seem to remember reading something about him in the healer's books. What is sure is that his name is linked to the ''Trees'' somewhat.
-« Illai, avarkâl nêrmaiyâka nilaittiruppên. [No, they remain loyal to you.] » Yavanna assures frowning.
-« Unkalûkku eppatî teriyum mutiyum? [How do you know?] » Telperion reasons as calmly as possible given the circumstances;
-« Tâkkutal naṭanta nêrattil marâ naṭavaṭikkaikaḷil îṭupaṭṭatâka avarkaḷ oppukkolvatâl enâkkut teriyum. [I know because they have confessed to be involved in other activities at the time of the attack.] »Yavanna explains tactfully;
-« Nampa mutîyavillai! [Unbelievable!] » Laurelin exclaims;
-« Nam kulântaikalâi kantupitîkka? [Have you found our children?] »Telperion worries;
-« Pirins Fëanor cila nêram munpu enâkku vantatu. Avar pônrâ oru nikalvai, êrpatûm enrû niccayamâka nân avarai nampavillai ennai eccarikka vêntum. [Prince Fëanor came to me before any of this. He wished to warn me that such thing could occur; of course I did not believe him.] » Yavanna develops further, joining her hands. She walks between the two ''Trees'' with no obvious purpose, reinforcing her points by some well placed glances.
-« Nînkal ennâ nampikkai kollâvillai? Atu paittiyam âka mutîyum? innûm mun irantâm arîkurîkal tenpâtûkinrânâ. [What is it that you did not believe? that he could go mad? Yet there were forerunners.] » Laurelin ironies;
-« Nân unkâl conta kulântaikal pâtukâkkum tâlviyataiyum enrû nampavillai. [I did not believe that you could fail your own children concerning their protection.] » Yavanna corrects. The sentence seems to echo still in the air like an unappealable judgement. Her lips pursed, the woman stares at the two ''Trees'' defiantly.
-« Enrû oru kurâinta atîyâka irukkirâtu. [It's low.] » Telperion spits out after a long silence;
-« Avar avaratu kôtpâtu kâtta vêntum. [He wanted to establish the validity of his theory.] » Yavanna explains, her voice softer this time;
-« Niccayamâka illai, avar enkal kulântaikal pattâmum vêntûm enru virumpukirâr. [Of course not, he wants the power that our children can give.] » the Creative Mother retorts, unyielding;
-« Atu pirins Fëanor ôraḷavu kurîppittâ enpâtu unmai tân...[I admit that Prince Fëanor is a little peculiar...]Yavanna grants as she tilts slightly her head on the side;
-« Kurîppâka? [Peculiar ?] Laurelin underlines, not soften by Yavanna's explications;
-« Nâm marûkka mutîyâtu murâi kêlvikkuriya nallarîvu ullâ oru cirû teyvam ûkam ennâ... Ippôtu marûkkamutîyâta enrû. [We can deny that what was only the speculation of an elves with questionable mental health now is...unquestionable.] » The woman in white argues with craft. She certainly possesses an incontestable persuasive force.
-« Cari, avar colvatu caritân, nâm ippôtu nam kulântaikal ceyya. [Good, he is right, now give us our children back.]the Creative Mother says, losing her patience;
-« Pirins Fëanor avar avarkalâi oru kavacam uruvâkka muṭiyum enrû unkâl kulântaikal eppôtum avarai palâm nilaiyai vittû nînkal kêṭkalâm. Atai nînkaḷ mîntum katâtti enrû mârîyatu enrâl, katâttalkârarkal tankâl atikârankalâi payanpâtûtta mutîyavillai. [Prince Fëanor asks you to entrust him with your children while they are still fruits in order for him to build them a shield. Thereby, if your children were once more abducted, the kidnapers could not use their powers. ]Yavanna recounts. It is come back to me now! According to Master Gamgee, Fëanor, the elf would have created three indestructible crystal globs that shielded the light of the Trees of Valinor. I do not recall anything about children abduction though.
-« Nînkal intap poykalâi nampakattânmai kotûkka ennîtâm collâtê!? [Do not tell me that you believe his lies!?] » Laurelin cries out infuriated;
-« Avar nânkal nînkal vâlkirîrkal, nînkal ânâl nâm, ettu kêtkirâr. [He asks but, we, the heights, order you to.] »Yavanna commands
-« Ennâ! [What !] » Laurelin exclaims;
-« Nīṅkaḷ atai eppaṭi uttaraviṭa muṭiyum? Nīṅkaḷ am'mā paṭaippāḷar irukkum! Avaḷ yār? [How can she order you? You are the Creative Mother! Who is she?] ». She does not respond. « Am'mâ pataippôlar? [Creative Mother? - old haradrim language] ».
-« Evvalâvu kâlattîrku? [For how long?] » Telperion asks with a broken voice as he lays one of his hands-branches on the shoulder-trunk of his companion;
-« Nârpatti âru ântukal. [Forty-six years.] »Yavanna answers firmly;
-« Illai! [No !] » Telperion and Laurelin roar in unison;
-« Nînkal vêrû valîyillai. [You have no choice.] »Yavanna sentences. Then a disturbing idea finds her way to my conscience: what if all these Valar's stories are true? What if the Creative Couple is not? What if they are only Valar ? Perhaps I deceive myself imagining that this Yavanna is not a Valië like the Men of the North thought but that her history have been corrupted by time.
-« Am'mā paṭaippāḷar ?! [Creative Mother ?! - old haradrim language] ». Still no answer. « Laurelin ?! ».
-« En nînkal êrka avar nâm teriyâtu enrû yâr ceyvatu? [Why are you agreeing to this, what is it that we do not know?] » Telperion questions suspicious. The memory goes on despite my calls; this is why I try to leave yet again.
-« Vênrû onrûm illai. [Nothing more.] » Yavanna assures while I struggle in order to regain my freedom however someone seems to hold my head under the water;
-« En kulântaikal ennâi tirumpinâr enrâl illai, nân capikkappattâ nilam telîvupatûttunkâl pâyvitûm. Valinor marrûm mattiya puvi inî maraṇam oru paranta irukkum. Pinnâr nînkal âriyan ennâi patâippâlâr enrû ên teriyum. [If my children are not returned to me, I will cease to shine upon these cursed lands. Valinor and Middle Earth will only be a large area of death. Then you will know why Arien calls me the Creator.]Laurelin threaten, her foliage brighter than ever. Stunned, I understand now...I have not the strength to fight anymore.
-« Nînkal unkâl katânta palâm kavilntûvitûm nînkum? [You will let you last fruit perish?] » The ''Valië'' retorts while arcing one of her eyebrows.
-« Nînkal eppatî teriyum? [How do you know?] » Laurelin asks caught off guard;
-« Atu kuttîccâttânkal, ânâl enâkku pulappatâta irukkalâm. [She is perhaps imperceptible to the elves but not for me.] Yavanna reveals, a discreet smile on her lips;
-« Nârpattâru varusam mattûm innûm oru ântû. Nân oru uttaravâtam kôri. [Forty-six years not one more and I want a guaranty.] Telperion consents with a heavy heart as he looks at Laurelin in the eyes and held her hands;
-« Nârpatti âru ânttukal. Nân oru makân. [Forty-six years and I will have one of his sons.] » the woman in white confirms;
-« Ippolûtu cel. [Go now.] » Telperion demands. The woman in white accepts but turns around after a few steps:
-« Aval eppatî enrû ? [What will be her name?] »;
-« Nânkal innûm mutîvu ceyyavillai, Kātalparicu allatu Aṉpēparicu. [''GiftofLove'' –Melyanna in quenya- or ''DearGift'' -Melinanna in q.-, we have not decided yet.] »Telperion deign to answer. The ''Valië'' nods before she walks away.
Soundtrack in order of appearance:
-Inkama reaches the Fangorn Forest= Lord of the rings II Soundtrack – The Entmoot decides;
-Inkama enters the forest= Lord of the rings II Soundtrack – Fangorn;
-Inkama meets her first Ent= Lord of the rings II Soundtrack – Ent-Draught;
-Inkama meets the Creative Mother in the flesh= Game of Thrones Season 3 Soundtrack –Mhysa;
-Inkama and the Creative Mother's talk (''Do you remember your promise'' to ''Good, now dive into my past child.'' )= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack –Love is in the eyes;
-the Creative Mother shares her first memory, part I (Feänor and his sons)= Lord of the rings Song– Emyn Muil Alernate;
-the Creative Mother shares her first memory, part II (Arien and the mystery man)= Game of Thrones Season 1 Soundtrack –When the sun rises in the west;
-the Creative Mother shares her second memory, part I (meet Yavanna)= Lord of the rings The musical – Saruman;
-the Creative Mother shares her second memory, part II (rest of the memory)= Game of Thrones Season 3 Soundtrack –Chaos is a ladder.
Author's notes:
Thank you for keep reading me!
I imagined Inkama to look like a young Jennifer Lopez with darker hair, the Lady-Tree and Arien looks like Madhuri Dixit, the mystery man looks like Jean-Marie Winling, Yavanna is portrayed by Gina Torres and finally Fëanor looks like a younger Zeljko Ivanek.
Next chapter: In spite of betrayals
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, only my brain!
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