Terreis: Yes, I do plan to have at least one character visit the Shire in an upcoming chapter. Gandalf will definitely go, of course, and I'm trying to decide whether to send Legolas along as well. The problem is that I can't let Frodo meet him because Frodo apparently has never seen Legolas before the Council of Elrond. Last time Legolas visited the Shire, Frodo was away, conveniently enough, and it would seem a bit much if he just happened to be away on Legolas' return visit. So I'm rather inclined not to let Legolas go and instead to provide him with some other adventure while he's waiting for Gandalf to rejoin the company.
Legosgurl: Congratulations on getting your keyboard fixed. Of course, now that it's fixed, you will have to write and post your story! I am not sure you received my reply to your last e-mail, in which I said that, yes, I would be glad to read and comment on your story. I did set one condition: you have to promise not to take any suggestions or corrections personally! Some writers seem to view critiques as personal attacks and become defensive. (I can understand why, though. If you really get involved in what you are writing and invest a lot of yourself in it, well, naturally, you may take umbrage if you think someone doesn't properly appreciate your efforts.)
Andi-Black: Of course something is going to happen. Mwah hah hah.
Joee: I don't think I'd like to live forever. I really like the intensity of a mortal life, and I don't think it could be sustained for an infinite period of time. That's an oxymoron, isn't it: 'infinite period'?
Dragonfly: Yes, Edwen Nana has her own special brand of creativity.
Yarrie: I'll update! I'll update! I don't want to be chased all the way back to my computer by an irate reader.
Beta Reader: Dragonfly.
Chapter 61: After the Deluge
Círdan's realm, Mithlond, was called in the common speech the Grey Havens because it consisted of not one but two settlements, one on the east bank of the River Lhûn, the other on the west. Legolas and his companions had been staying on the west bank. To return to Rivendell, it was thus necessary for them to cross the river, which was very wide at Mithlond itself, situated as it was at the point where the channel entered the Gulf of Lune. Normally Círdan's folk would have ferried them across, but on that day, a strong breeze was blowing east off the Gulf so that the waters were rough and the swells covered with whitecaps. There was, however, a ford. It was considerably to the north of Mithlond and thus, ultimately, of Rivendell, but this did not trouble the travelers in the least, for they had already been planning to follow a track that would cause them to pass to the north of the Shire. They did not wish to enter the land of the Periannath but instead intended to bivouac on its border whilst Gandalf went about his business. Elves did enter the Shire from time to time, but rarely in such large numbers, and Legolas preferred not to draw attention to their presence.
The Elves also planned to avoid Bree-land. Instead, even once past the Shire, they would keep almost entirely to a northern route, one that would take them just below the Emyn Uial or Hills of Evendim—the Twilight Hills Men called them in Common Speech. They would also pass just south of the North Downs. The Weather Hills, however, they would pass to the north, for they had no desire to draw near to the Midgewater Marshes! Once past the Weather Hills, they would descend at last to the Great East Road.
In spite of the fact that they lacked horses, the company was merry enough at the outset. They had packed carefully, so that their supplies had been well and fairly distributed, and no one suffered from his burden. Moreover, they were walking at a comfortable pace. Even if they had been mounted, they would have journeyed only a little faster, for it had never been their intention to push themselves.
Shortly after crossing the River Lhûn, however, they began to march more rapidly than they had initially planned. They came upon the tracks of the horses, and it was easy to see that their steeds had only passed that way recently.
"If we go only a little faster," suggested Legolas, "mayhap we will be able to catch up with them."
Yet no matter how quickly they marched, and for all the acuity of the Elves' vision, the horses stayed just out of sight.
"They are staying out of reach, but only barely. It is almost as if they mean to tantalize us by their nearness," said Legolas thoughtfully.
"I think you are right," agreed Gilglîr. "The horses want us to journey on as quickly as ever we may, and this is their way of drawing us forward. You must admit that at this point we are scarcely traveling any slower than we would have if we had been mounted! Indeed, I believe we are making faster time, for we have not been dawdling over lengthy breaks for meals!"
Gilglîr was right. By the end of the first day of their journey, they had in fact covered more ground than they would have if they had been horsed and traveling at leisure.
The second day of their journey, when the travelers arose they saw heavy grey clouds roiling the skies to the north. Within the clouds they could make out mighty bolts of lightning.
"Yonder a great storm beats down upon Arda," said Gilglîr. "Let us hope that it remains to our north."
That second day, mindful of the storm, the company moved even faster than the day before. Once again, they could have traveled no faster had they been mounted. Quickly they reached the foothills of the Emyn Uial. From then on, they would have to cross several streams that flowed from the Nenuial, the mighty lake that was nestled in those foothills. To their surprise, they forded those streams with ease.
"Odd," mused Legolas when they had come to yet another stream whose bed was nearly dry. "Odd that with all the rain to the north so little water flows through this channel. It is true that it is not the major outflow of the lake, which serves, after all, as the headwater of the Baranduin. Still, there ought to be a fair amount of water in this channel."
"Yes," agreed Gilglîr. "It is indeed odd."
"Not so very odd," disagreed Tathar. "Something has blocked the channel, is all. My guess would be a beaver dam. Over the years, a family of beavers can construct a dam so extensive that it will flood an entire valley. I warrant that if we were to ride further north, we would find the Nenuial to be vastly enlarged."
The third morning of their journey, the rain was still confined to the north, but there was a stillness to the land that Legolas found unnerving.
"The earth is awaiting something," Legolas murmured to Gilglîr as they stood together at daybreak. "I hear no birds, and it comes to my mind that we have seen no living thing for the space of two days."
"Yes," agreed the Seneschal. "We should get underway as quickly as possible and hasten eastward. Those clouds lour down on us from the Emyn Uial. Its peaks are veiled in danger."
Legolas and Gilglîr went amongst their companions, rousing those who still slept and urging on those who were already awake. They did not spare even Gandalf, whom Legolas found a little apart from the rest of the company, sheltering under a blanket with Edwen Nana.
"Get up, O mighty wizard," teased Legolas, seizing the blanket and trying to yank it from the couple.
"I was up," complained Gandalf, yanking back on the covering, "but, now, thanks to you, I am not."
Chuckling, Legolas went off to allow the two an opportunity to make themselves respectable. Tathar and Caranlass were also sheltering a little apart from the others, under a sort of tent that Tathar had contrived from their cloaks.
"Tathar," called Legolas as he stood by this tent. "Caranlass. Pardon me for disturbing your peace, but we must get underway as soon as ever we may."
Tathar came crawling out from the shelter, looking, Legolas noticed with amusement, as if he had not spent any time that night in actual slumber.
"Is something the matter, Legolas," he asked softly, straightening himself up.
"I do not know," Legolas replied, equally softly. "It is almost as if Arda apprehends something. Mark you how silent the land lies?"
Tathar looked about and then nodded thoughtfully.
"We will be ready to depart upon the instant, Legolas."
"Thank you, my friend."
Hastily, all the travelers made ready, and soon they were marching across the land, breaking their fast as they walked on food left over from the evening meal. Legolas urged them to advance as quickly as possible, for fear grew upon him with the passage of every minute. The silence of the land had deepened. Now not even an insect stirred. The only sound was the grumble of thunder to the north that accompanied the lightning bolts that sheared the clouds with increasing frequency.
At last, to Legolas' immense relief, they spied the ruins of Annúnimas, the Tower of the West.
"We are nearly past the Emyn Uial," said Legolas happily to Gilglîr, "and, see, to the east of those hills the sky begins to clear."
Just as he spoke, he felt a trembling in his legs, and the land seemed to dance before his eyes. He passed his hands before his eyes, but when he removed them, the land had not ceased its motion. If anything, it gyrated even more than before. Gilglîr uttered one word.
"Earthquake."
The oldest and wisest among the Elves at once flung themselves down, rightly judging that it was better to drop to the ground than to be thrown upon it by the heaving earth. As the shaking of the earth grew more violent, several of the younger and smaller Elves were indeed knocked to the ground. Tathar flung his arms around Caranlass and supported her, else she would have been one of those thrown off her feet.
When the earth had at last ceased trembling, Legolas strode from Elf to Elf, checking to see whether any were badly injured. Those who had been knocked down sported bruises, but no worse. Legolas had little time to rejoice in this discovery, however, for at once a new peril arose. The ground did not resume shaking, but all heard a rumbling sound. Tathar gave a shout and pointed to the north. It looked as if a grey cloud had dropped to the ground and was rolling toward them. But Tathar knew better.
"Run," he shouted, "run east! The dam has broken. Yonder rushes a wall of water that shall sweep us to our deaths if we remain here."
Just then the company heard another noise, but this a welcome one. It was the sound of pounding hooves. Their steeds were coming back for them.
The company sprinted toward the horses; the horses galloped toward them. Mere seconds before the water struck the two groups collided, and each Elf (plus one wizard) scrambled onto the nearest horse, never minding whether it was his or not. Tathar boosted the smaller Caranlass onto one horse before turning to find one for himself. Ai! Before he could do so, the surge struck him and swept him off his feet. But his skill as a carpenter saved him, albeit in an odd fashion. Tathar of course had a frame of wood affixed to his back, and that frame supported a bundle that contained more wood than anything else: the trencher, spoon, and bowl he had carved for Caranlass, plus the architectural models he had fashioned. So now, his pack buoyant, he floated in the water like an empty barrel on its way to Esgaroth. When a riderless horse plunged by, he seized that creature's tail, and the steed—it couldn't very well have been called a mount at this point!—swam toward dry land with Tathar bobbing in his wake.
Edwen Nana also had a bit of a bad moment before her safety was assured. She had been scrambling onto a horse when the flood hit and had lost her grip, tumbling into the raging water. Gandalf, however, was securely astride a mount and urged the horse to swim toward her. Nearing her, he reached out his staff. She seized it and he drew her to his horse and lifted her up before him.
With all the company now safely horsed, the steeds swam steadily toward the east. Of course, they were in effect traveling southeast. Even a powerful elven horse could not fully overcome the power of such a great quantity of rushing water. So, as they swam east, the current simultaneously pushed them south. This delayed their arrival upon dry land, but it could not prevent it altogether. They had, after all, been very nearly past the Emyn Uial. At length, after what seemed like hours of swimming but what was really only a short while, the horses heaved themselves out of the water and stood panting beside the flood. The travelers looked back. Behind them was a great expanse of water, the earth submerged for as far as they could see.
"If we had delayed our departure," said Gilglîr soberly, "we would have found the way blocked and been forced to detour to the south."
Legolas shook his head.
"No, my friend. You are wrong. If we had delayed our departure or journeyed in a more leisurely manner, we would have been in the middle of the lowlands when they were swept by that wall of water. Not even the strongest elven horse would have been able to withstand the torrent. We were lucky to be caught in naught but the edge of it."
"Lucky?" said Gandalf. "Luck had nothing to do with it. Gilglîr has been saying all along that the horses were urging us to make haste. I don't call that luck, although I will call it good fortune. We are blessed in our friends, both two-footed and four."
All within hearing assented to the words of the wizard, and any cloth that remained dry was first used to rub down the horses before any of the travelers thought of seeing to their own needs. The horses made comfortable, Elves then searched about for any wood not too damp to be burned. With such branches and limbs as could be gathered, fires were kindled beside which garments were spread. Whilst their clothes were drying, not a few Elves sported about in nothing more than strips of cloth wound about the middle in such a way as to obscure strategic areas. Gandalf and Edwen Nana both declared that they had too much dignity to engage in such a display, and they made as if to vanish into a nearby thicket with one of the few dry blankets.
"Are you sure that you will need only one blanket," Legolas asked the couple, his manner carefully composed.
"Far be it from me," said Edwen Nana, her face solemn and her voice solicitous, "to deprive another member of our company by laying claim to more than is absolutely needful in the way of shelter. Rather than keeping a blanket all to myself, I am sure I don't mind sharing one with a fellow traveler."
"My sentiments pre-cise-ly," concurred Gandalf, equally grave. "'Tis a sacrifice I am willing to make."
"It you are certain, then," said Legolas. "Oh, by the way, Mithrandir, good work with the staff. It is lucky that you can extend that pole of yours as far as you do. I do not know of anyone else who could have served Edwen Nana so."
Gandalf emitted something that very much sounded like a growl, but the wizard was smiling, as was his companion.
Whilst this conversation was taking place, Tathar and Caranlass were disappearing into the other side of the thicket, bearing with them another one of the dry blankets. Legolas forbore pressing another coverlet upon them.
"Given Tathar's ingenuity," he commented to Gilglîr, "I am sure that with one blanket he could erect a pavilion."
"Oh, he'll erect something, I'll wager," said Gilglîr. "But," he called over his shoulder as he strolled toward one of the campfires, "I doubt a pavilion is what he has in mind."
At this reply, Legolas, perhaps mindful of his own dignity, suppressed a giggle—although it must be said that at this point he had very little dignity left to preserve, owing to the fact that his outfit featured the peculiar juxtaposition of a diadem and a hastily devised loin-cloth. Why he chose to wear the hated diadem at this moment has never been answered, although it has been opined that he did so in order to indulge his mischievous appreciation for the ridiculous.
Thus for a time we leave the company as its members adopt various and sundry means of sheltering themselves for the night, arrangements that, if somewhat ad hoc, were nonetheless practical and even, in some cases, pleasurable.