Chapter 28

A Prayer for Erebwen

It was not yet dawn, the quiet of the morning lingering in the hallways. Sammy awoke with a start, feeling as though he were being touched. He felt strokes upon his cheeks, whispers along his arms, and a pulling at his legs. He lay still for a moment a gasp on the verge, but it stopped. He waited, wondering if it had only been a dream. Quiet it was, so quiet he could almost hear his heartbeat. Then he shook it off, convincing himself, "Yes, it was only a dream."

He climbed out of the bed, and dressed; pulling on his trousers and then his white shirt, getting lost in thought halfway through the buttons. He went over to the basin and poured some water from an elegant pitcher, crafted from seashell. The water was cold as he washed his face and when he dried it he suddenly felt a stroke upon his chest. His first reflex was to dry his chest with the towel, thinking it was the water that dripped from his face, but he found it did not feel wet. He laid the towel down as his gaze was drawn down into the bowl. He saw a reflection quickly pass over it and he got the sensation someone was behind him! He turned around in a whirl, but there was no one there! His door to the hallway was slightly open, softly swaying in some otherwise unfelt breeze.

He flew to the door and threw it back, but there was no one, nothing in the hallway; just the looming quiet and the darkness of the grey time before dawn. Slowly, he sauntered down the hall looking at each doorway, listening for the slightest sound. Silence continued to hush through the hall, each door stood closed as though the wood also slept in soft golden slumbers. He reached the end; his heart began to pull him, guiding him round the corner. Up a narrow stairway he climbed, higher and higher; up a great round column, in circles that seemed would never end. All that could be heard was the soft urgency of his panting. He reached the top and found a door with soft yellow light slipping through the hinges. Curiosity drew him, and he forgot his fear for a moment as he knocked gently.

"You may enter" a soft voice called, its sound reviving his fear.

She was standing by the window looking out as if she were waiting for something, or someone. When she turned to face him an overwhelming sensation of time and history pierced his soul. Immediately Sammy knew these were the eyes that he had felt ever since he sailed into the harbor. Lonely they felt and evil though it seemed not to come from within her; but as a shadow of her essence, greying the edges of her being. As her eyes penetrated his, he perceived they were aqua blue as the sea and as deep as its depths. Her smile was slightly melancholic, although she tried to make it pleasant.

"You came from Aman, didn't you?" She said in a voice sultry and mature. She approached him, her eyes never leaving his and it unsettled Sammy so severely he hesitated unable to answer. "I saw you on that ship, sailing into the harbor. I have felt your presence. It is unlike any other. You are Peredhil, are you not?"

Sammy felt his cheeks redden and he didn't quite understand why. "I am," he answered a little reservedly, surprising himself.

She stopped smiling and breathlessly spoke on, "You are not of the east. I can see the light of the Valar in your eyes. But you have chosen the gift."

Sammy replied, "You seem to know all about me and yet it seems you seek my service." Caution entered his voice, "What may I do for you, my Lady?"

She laughed gently and sweetly, but bitterness escaped into the tone. "I simply wish to know my fate. Long have I lingered here, the elves are now all leaving. Should I go?"

She walked behind him and stroked his back gently, sensually. Sammy felt his skin tighten as if her touch was stressful. He didn't quite know what to say, or how to react. She was beautiful, yet uncomely in her mood. Her jet black hair, matted, tussled and in disarray gave her the look of leisure and uncaring. There was an air about her that drew him and he found himself longing to hold her in comfort though it seemed an unnatural and invading desire. Yet he stood firm, unable to move for within him he felt a loss of control as though a scent of evil had taken hold of him. Confusion filled him as a mingling of wills surrounded them.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "Why do you seek my counsel on such a crucial decision? I can not advise the destiny of your heart."

"No," she said, the melancholy returning. "No, you can not. Long I have lingered here."

She had circled around to his front now, slowly, still touching him, her fingers gliding around his shoulder and onto his chest. Her touch burned softly as though a touch of ember resided in her fingertip. Sammy's skin tensed further as her eyes again, met his.

A rosy blush covered her cheeks slightly as she said, "I am Mithrellas, though now they call me…" her voice turned to sadness, "… Erebwen"

Sammy's mind searched, he knew the first name, but in the moment memory would not come to him. He felt her sadness deeply as the second name brought him understanding. 'Lonely Maiden' she was, in his Mother's tongue, as the Colters spoke. She knelt down in front of him coming face to face, with longing in her eyes. Gently she leaned in and placed her lips upon his forehead so softly it was as though he was being brushed with a feather. Heat seared through his body, as he felt his mind open to her; a sharing he had never felt before. He had no power to fight it, nor the desire, although he felt as though it held evil. But stronger than the evil was the presence of a song. And its wordless melodies were of good and heart wrenching sorrow. A gathering of memory swirled in his thought, and craving pulled at his knowledge; it was seeking the truth of his life in his birth home.

Suddenly the door opened and Erchirion entered; his face showed great alarm. "Mithrellas, why do you trouble our guest?"

Mithrellas stood up, cowering as great fear shuddered through her body. She quickly slipped behind the thick curtain that hung from the window and Sammy could see it shake as she trembled. He took one step towards her, but Erchirion took hold of his arm.

"I am very sorry, Master Baggins." He said. "Come, we must leave her." Sammy hesitated, unsure whether leaving was the right thing to do. Erchirion again pleaded as though he himself felt fear, "Come, Master Baggins."

As they turned to leave suddenly a bold and defiant voice came from her, "I know of where he has come!" Desperation resounded in her voice. "Tell me, please. Why did you leave? Is it not beautiful there?" Eyes peered out of the curtains, fraught with panic.

"Wait," said Sammy, feeling the need to answer. He turned and took several steps closer to her. "Aman is very exquisite if that word does it justice; a land of peace and majesty beyond the bounds of the mind. Aman is a land of healing. I left because I did not belong. I am a Hobbit. My eyes were ever drawn to the east and though parting was painful, I had to follow my heart."

Relief embraced her eyes and a smile settled upon new tears. Then as if broken from a spell, Sammy's mind opened and he remembered the name, Mithrellas. It was from one of the stories, told long ago as his little brother Bilbo was delving into history. They were in Avalonnë visiting Galadriel. There was a festival planned for the evening and Bilbo had been questioning her in preparation for a narrative he planned to perform. Sammy sat with Bilbo, as she told them the tale of Nimrodel and of Amroth the Elven King of Lothlórien. The King had fallen in love with the elven maiden and had gone ahead to the southern shores to prepare the way for their departure over the sea to the Undying Lands. Nimrodel was to join him, and with many elves, journeyed far through the wild lands, but they were lost on the way, disappearing into fate unknown. Amroth waited many a day upon the ship at harbor, but a wind took him in sorrow and in his desperation to get back to her, he perished in the stormy seas.

The story went on to tell how one of Nimrodel's companions, Mithrellas, a Silvan Elf that had been found in the woods, was taken to wife by Imrazôr, a Númenórean who dwelt in Belfalas. She bore him a son and a daughter and then disappeared one night slipping away unnoticed, never to be seen again.

Now, Sammy almost gasped as the reality of her existence became apparent.

He felt no fear in speaking his heart, "They said you left. Never to be seen again, yet you are here all these long years!"

A soft laughter could be heard through her tears as though he had discovered a little secret. Its evil could be felt and once again Mithrellas cowered.

Erchirion became insistent. "Come, Master Baggins, we must leave her."

Sammy left the room behind Erchirion and as he closed the door behind him, they heard the lock click and the soft laughter began again.

Erchirion sighed, "I am truly sorry my friend, for this episode. She has never done anything like this before. She is always in hiding especially when guests are present. Come, let me get you some breakfast and I will explain."

Sammy was led to a large balcony, and placed before a small table laden with sweet bread and peaches. Tall torches stood in each corner boldly dancing in the breeze, providing their light for the sun had barely begun to awaken the clouds behind the castle to the east. Erchirion offered him a chair and then poured his tea. The sound of the waves pounded the rock below as the ocean brought intensity to the mood. The man was clearly embarrassed by the encounter with Mithrellas and he apologized many times.

"You see," he said with soft murmur, "she clearly is troubled and needs healing. My family and the elves of Edhellond have often tried to convince her to take a ship to the Undying Lands." He sighed, "An evil poison has hold of her and she will not let us get too near. She wallows in loneliness, always in hiding. I don't think I have seen her more than, maybe fives times in my life. You know, I also feel her fear of the unknown holds her back. I was glad to hear you say positive things about the west, although I was a little bit worried there for a moment. I had wondered about why you left Aman, in our conversation last night. I am sorry to invade your privacy. I know it was a personal thing for her to ask, though it was good for her to hear the things that you said."

Sammy was clearly shaken by the encounter, but mostly out of pity for Mithrellas. "Well, I am happy to help, but I am not sure if I did. What happened to her my Lord?"

Erchirion sighed deeply again, "Well, it is a sad story. She came from the land of Lorien. My ancestor Imrazôr found her in the woods, lost, hungry and wounded with no real memory of what had happened. She knew who she was and knew her past up until the attack. She had set out for Belfalas with Nimrodel and many elves to take ship to Aman with Amroth. But they were waylaid by a pack of Orcs and from that point she has no memory. Imrazôr took pity on her and brought her back here where he nursed her back to health as best as he could. In the process he fell in love with her, taking her as his wife. She mended well physically, but the mental anguish she suffered never healed as if the poison slowly melded into her mind. Her manor grew fearsome and troubled. She gave birth to two children, Galador and Gilmith but took no hand in raising them. Life became too difficult for her and suddenly she disappeared, not to be seen again for many long years."

Erchirion stopped a moment to reflect and sip his tea. Sammy sighed in sadness, thinking about the devastation of so many lives by the hands of the Orcs and the evil of Sauron. And way in the back of his mind he dared to wonder what had happened to stop this elf from laying herself down, to enter the Halls of Mandos for sweet sleep in relief.

Erchirion continued, "It was long after the death of Imrazôr when she returned and Galador, their son, had become Lord of Dol Amroth. She was like a frightened child, fearsome and paranoid. He took his Mother in out of love; learning that she had existed solitary and lonely in the woods for many years. She has never been capable of expressing why she left or what it is that frightens her so; it is assumed her mind has been taken by the evil poison, consumed in gentle madness."

He said these last words with a quiver in his voice and pity mingled with fear as it poured from his eyes. Sammy sat stunned as Erchirion continued. "She has lived on with love from our family for many generations; a recluse, preferring the peaceful and quiet solitude of the tower you found her in. She never speaks to any of us and when we try to coax her out she just burrows in deeper in tragic fear. Out of respect, we speak of her to no one and we leave her alone; placing her food and clothing on her doorstep. But now I fear for her. As she told you, the elves are all leaving this land. If she does not go soon, she will be doomed to this life -fading slowly and bitterly from existence."

They sat quietly for a while as Sammy reflected on his words and Erchirion stared off into the waters. Morning light slowly crept in around them and the cawing of a bird flying over head brought Sammy back to the present. He then politely excused himself to prepare for his journey. The tugging within his heart for the faces of tales stirred his anxiety, though now a sense of need began to tear him in two and he was not sure if he should leave so soon. He felt a sense of responsibility to stay and approach Mithrellas again. What he would say, he did not know. But he knew his presence had stirred turmoil within her and his task, though unknown to him, was unfinished.

He entered his room and began to gather his things. Debate argued in his mind as he packed and frustration grew burdensome as he struggled to make a decision. He picked up the towel near the basin and wringed it with thought, "What do I say? Dear Eru, what do I say?"

Suddenly a song came into his thoughts as a white wave; filling his heart with overwhelming urgency! He threw down the towel and slipped through his door. Down the hallway, he made his way quickly with echoing in his mind. Up the stairs he went as the song flowed through his thoughts in exigency! He reached her door and softly tapped. All was quiet, not a sound came from within.

"Mithrellas," he called softly, "Mithrellas."

A soft hum sweetened the air as he began to sing and his tenor notes flowed smooth in intricate breath. Sammy's face blazoned red as tears moistened his lashes and all of his heart flowed through the music as if it was guided by a power foreign to his soul. And though the emotion of the song was heavy and intense, lightheartedness came over him as though a great victory over evil had occurred! And when all had been sung and the last sigh left his lips, he collapsed to his knees and leaned his face against the door, as his peaceful tears kissed the wood.

Later that morning as the sun began to smile broadly above the horizon, a little Hobbit rode from Dol Amroth with the greyness of the clouds dissolving in peaceful sighs within his heart. And as he rode a whisper of a prayer brushed his lips, for Erebwen.