In An Age Before - Part 28
Chapter Twenty-two
Eriador - The Second Age of the Sun
"'Tis the same as last year and all the years ere that," Beinvír said sadly as she looked down the steep face of the downs towards a small, empty field.
The falls sang brightly in the early morning light and the Withywindle sparkled as it ran off into the forest. Again they had come, and again no trace of the house of Iarwain Ben-adar had they seen. 'Twas 23 Ivanneth, (September 23rd), S.A. 1601; 340 years to the day since Helluin and Beinvír had met, and 340 years to the day since they had last left the house of Iarwain and Maldiaving. Most years they had returned on this day if possible, and there beside the waterfall they camped the night, for the Green Elf had ne'er given up on her company and her king. Helluin humored her to the best of her ability despite her uneasiness 'nigh that place, and though they had indeed missed many years, including the year just past, the dark Noldo had come to doubt if Dálindir, Celegaras, and Gérorn would e'er reappear. They had walked in strange company and had gone, (so she deemed), fore'er beyond the world.
Today Helluin was edgier than e'er. Indeed since mid-year she had been afflicted with a dark foreboding, from no source she could identify, save as an anniversary of yet worse recently past. On the night of the solstice of summer a year aforetime, Helluin had bolted upright at the very moment of dawn, feeling as if she were being picked apart with needles. Something had felt as if it was stinging every inch of her skin, flaying her slowly, and then burrowing beneath. At first she had suspected homicidally aggressive ants. Even from the first moment she had resisted. By noon the onslaught had reduced to a level she could barely endure, but it hadn't diminished further for o'er a week. She had been miserable, snappish, and had wanted to fling the Sarchram at anything that moved. Her anger had been hair-trigger and directed blindly at whate'er was discomforting her. Much of the time her eyes had been blazing.
Even after the torment abated she had felt edgy and nervous, and at times as if she were being watched by a hostile presence. She had despised that sensation intensely and closed her mind tight as a green mallorn nut, surrounding it thence with a virulent hatred for her unknown malefactor. It had been like fighting a pitched battle, but slowly those sensations too had faded, leaving her in grave doubt, uncertain and worried about what the next day would bring. 'Twas as if she had driven off a host that now lurked 'nigh in the surrounding woods, invisible but threatening. Her nervousness had persisted all through the following year. A good measure of it was with her still, a year and a season later.
"Non nienorui, meldis nín¹," Helluin said softly as she wrapped a comforting arm about Beinvír's shoulders, "perhaps it shalt be different next year." ¹("Non nienorui, meldis nín", "I am sorry (lit. sorrowful) my (female) friend", Sindarin)
The Green Elf wrapped her arms 'round Helluin's waist and leaned against her to ease her disappointment. "Perhaps the night shalt reveal it this time," she said hopefully.
They started down the path from the downs, Helluin hating the yearly dashing of her friend's hopes, and feeling helpless as she watched Beinvír clinging to the possibility of her friends' reemergence into the sunlight. She shalt ne'er give up, Helluin thought, and she did not give up on me for all how foul my company has been this year past. She stuck by me as I fought an enemy I still have not seen. Ne'er have I known one so loyal, and greatly do I love her for it.
Despite her horror and alarm, Beinvír had remained at Helluin's side throughout the days and nights when the Noldo had been in anguish, barely able to contain her rage, and possessed of the certainty that someone or something was trying to command her will by usurping the power in the Sarchram. The Green Elf had refused to leave when, in a lucid moment, Helluin had warned her that she was close to losing control of her violence completely and falling down into darkness. Beinvír had listened to Helluin ranting hour after hour, likening the attack to unseen hands relentlessly jerking the weapon from her spiritual grasp so it could become an avenue to her fëa and a yoke to constrain her. Helluin had fought back of course, and because she was already linked to the Grave Wing, she had finally wrenched it again solely to her own will. Thereafter she had sealed herself to all external powers, encircling her spirit with a blinding wall of Light and fire. Ere the defense stabilized, Helluin's body had radiated, blazing as it had once done 'neath the Two Trees in Aman, scorching her bedroll of dog skins and actually kindling grass fires 'nigh where she lay in their campsite.
Beinvír had been shocked at the display and horrified by the absolute conviction of Helluin's beliefs. Such an assault could come from only one being she could imagine, but ne'er had she heard of him having such powers. She was still terrified for her friend. Sauron had already shown his interest in her, and now he had tried to enthrall her fëa through the weapon Helluin had empowered. Yet when she'd voiced her suspicions, Helluin hadn't believed her. They had been two hundred leagues and more from Eregion; surely he couldn't reach so far and with such force. No tale spoke of such an attack. Not in all the years of war during the First Age had such a spell been known. Helluin was convinced 'twas the work of a lesser sorcerer much closer to hand, and her belief had been strengthened when no further attacks materialized, for Sauron was relentless. In response she had become relentlessly vigilant about their surroundings and deeply suspicious of strangers e'er since. After o'er a year she remained so still. For Beinvír as well as Helluin, S.A. 1600 had been a bad year; and 1601 but slightly better.
Tonight their campsite was the same one they had used so many times afore; a large willow sheltering a small space 'nigh the Withywindle, just downstream from the falls. From there they could keep watch on any approach, whether from the forest, the downs, or the borders of the narrow corridor 'twixt them. And they had an unobstructed view of the site where Iarwain's house had once stood. They whiled away the afternoon, Beinvír playing a slow tune on a carved flute, Helluin ceaselessly flicking her eyes to check any possible avenue of approach. Eventually Anor sank 'neath the forest canopy and dusk settled. Helluin started a hunter's fire in the same small, shallow pit they'd used two years aforetime. Beinvír crafted a stew from the provisions they'd brought. The sky darkened and night fell about them like a deep cloak of soot, whilst o'erhead the stars shone, brilliant, unblinking, and undimmed by Ithil's light. Eärendil was nowhere to be seen. Helluin freed her weapons. It had been first quarter the past night, but now the moon was absent.
Not thirty yards away the phantom house shimmered into existence like the ripples spreading on a placid brook. 'Twas as though a reflection of the world had shivered as something from behind forced its way in. Ere a few moments passed the effect was complete. The house of Iarwain Ben-Adar stood, solid as the land 'neath it, windows glowing with warm golden light. For many heartbeats, Helluin and Beinvír watched, petrified in amazement. Then Beinvír was running forward towards the door.
"No, wait!" Helluin screamed as she found her feet and sped 'cross the rolling lawn after her friend. She was terrified for the Green Elf. Imagining her falling into Iarwain's clutches brought her heart to her throat. She had been suspicious of him for centuries, but after the recent attack, her increased distrust kindled her to panic. Now she was frantic. Beinvír had followed her about the land all too much like her younger brother, Verinno, and Helluin would ne'er forgive herself if a similar fate befell another that had loved and trusted her. She hardly noticed the pair of rabbits scampering toward the house ahead of her.
Beinvír made it to the doorstep a stride ahead of Helluin, but the dark Noldo flung herself forward and tackled the Green Elf ere she reached the threshold. She had wrapped both arms tightly 'round her friend's legs to immobilize her. For a moment neither moved. And then the door swung open.
Maldiaving stood upon the threshold, and she was unchanged in every respect from the image of her in their memories. Her slender figure moved gracefully and her baby doll face was surrounded by a backlit halo of wavy, golden hair. She looked right past the prone bodies of the two ellith and made a beckoning gesture. The rabbits hopped up to her, passing right by Helluin and Beinvír, and obediently lying down side by side in front of Goldberry. She smiled at the coneys and then stepped into their backs! They became her slippers, just as Helluin had suspected. A small flow of water accompanied a squishing sound to create a puddle at her feet. Not an arm's length in front of their faces, the sight chilled them both to the bone. The Riv-er Daughter looked deeply into the night, but paid no attention to Helluin and Beinvír though they lay sprawled at her feet. Indeed 'twas obvious that she couldn't see them! They stared at her in shock.
Then Iarwain appeared behind his beloved, filling the door frame and blocking the light. From their point of view, his bright yellow boots and stumpy legs looked even thicker and more grossly out of proportion than they recalled. Whereas aforetime he had appeared comical, now he seemed monstrous. He looked down, casting bright blue eyes upon them and smiling when he noticed his two guests lying on the ground, but he said 'naught to them. Instead, he ushered Maldiaving back inside with a hand laid gently on her elbow. The door closed, leaving Helluin and Beinvír in the dark.
"Let me go!" Beinvír screamed.
"No! Something's wrong…indeed, everything's wrong!"
Helluin struggled to control her friend's legs as the Green Elf kicked and thrashed to get free. With great effort, she managed to drag Beinvír backward along the ground 'til they were a fathom from the house. Then she crawled up and covered the Green Elf with her body, effectively pinning her in place.
"They should have seen and greeted us, even were they not to make us welcome this night," Helluin hissed, trying desperately to reason with her, "rather, Maldiaving saw us not, and Iarwain ignored us. We art not welcome hither."
"I won't leave 'til I have at least seen my friends," Beinvír said stubbornly, "I shan't!"
"Then through the windows we shalt examine the view," Helluin told her firmly, "but I shalt not allow thee to enter. 'Tis perilous; Iarwain is perilous, and I greatly fear for thee. I fear that should thou enter, then like thy friends thou shalt ne'er leave, and I…I could not bear it."
At this, Beinvír's eyes widened. The dark Noldo seldom proclaimed the depth of her concern though the Green Elf felt it always nowadays. Very disturbing was the realization that Helluin had ne'er believed her friends would be free. Beinvír finally understood why Helluin had been so nervous coming hither every year. Her friend deemed the house a death trap.
When Helluin had finally gotten Beinvír's word that she would look carefully first, they rose and moved to the windows along the front of the house. These looked in on the main room; the dining area to the left of the door, the hearth and sitting area to the right.
At first what they saw seemed reassuring. Seated 'round the dining table were Iarwain, Goldberry, Dálindir, Celegaras, Gérorn, and two others whom they didn't know, a young Dwarf of Nogrod, judging by his attire and the dark auburn tint of his hair and beard, and a barely civilized Man. The company was merry, sharing a bountiful feast in good humor, with much banter and many jests. But as they watched they realized that though all appeared to eat, none actually did so. Nor did they drink. 'Twas all a mimicry, a miming of behaviors well known, but shorn of their actual execution and perhaps their need. And their friends were clothed exactly as they had been on that night 340 years ago. Then Helluin looked down and noticed that rather than wearing comical slippers, each of the guests sat with their feet immersed in a bucket of water! She pointed this out to Beinvír and the Green Elf froze. Then she started shaking. Without bloodshed or violence, the scene had taken on the most profound horror. Like Goldberry, Iarwain had animated his 'friends' and retained their company.
"They art not truly alive, art they?" Beinvír asked in a hollow voice.
Helluin could only take the shuddering elleth¹ in her arms and hug her close, resting her chin atop her hair. She stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. ¹(elleth, term for a female Elf. Sindarin)
"I do not believe so, no," she said softly. "I do not think they have lived in a very long time. None have dwelt in Nogrod during this Age, and yet the Dwarf is young. A millennium and more has passed since he came hither, I wager. And look thou at the Man's raiment…'tis like something from a tale of the Elder Days ere the Edain came to Beleriand and learnt the craft of weaving cloth."
Indeed the Man was dressed entirely in hides and skins. He wore no work of metals, only a woven bracelet of leather, and his face had ne'er known the touch of a razor. Beinvír nodded through her tears, accepting the evidence she saw before her eyes.
"I am sorry," Helluin whispered, knowing the words would provide no solace.
Inside the dining room the meal concluded. Maldiaving moved to clear the table and the rest stood and thanked her. She disappeared repeatedly into the kitchen area, bearing away the still full platters of food and pitchers of drink. In the main room, the company took their seats before the fire, bringing their buckets with them as one would tankards or goblets. Shortly thereafter Goldberry came to bid them goodnight ere she retired. And finally as they watched, Iarwain entertained his 'guests' with tales and lore, finally putting them to sleep.
To Helluin and Beinvír, who stood outside the window watching, the whole evening seemed to take but a little while. Indeed 'twas hard to tell the passing of time, for the stars moved not in the sky and no moon made its way on its course. All seemed timeless and suspended. Finally they turned to leave.
They had walked but a few paces away when the door opened and Iarwain stood upon the threshold. He surveyed the night and then looked directly at the two Elves, seeing them again and finally acknowledging their presence. Then he sang them chilling words to a happy tune and both found the performance grotesque.
Tippy-tee-tine, thy friends are mine,
They stay, hey, hey, they stay to dine.
With Tom and Goldberry beside the falls,
Ever sup-a-lup-luping in Bombadil's halls.
From un-dun-der the sun and un-dun-der the moon,
To join-oin me, tra-la, in my merriest tune.
Hey never to fly, and hey-yay, never to die,
As all-lal-lal-lall of the Ages pass by.
But 'tis not so mould-oldy-old cold,
My steal-a-weal-ing away thus their souls,
For they-hey came hence to me freely 'tis true,
Not like the attack-ack-ack-ack by the Werelord on you.
So go now your way to your parts in the play,
To the fell-dell-dell derry-o deeds of the day.
The call of war sings, yo, on bloody black wings,
A-timber-a-tinder o'er Celebrimbor's Three Rings.
Most of it was gibberish save the confirmation of their fears for their friends' fates. Helluin deemed it a taunt, and despite her belief in the danger, she drew her weapons and moved to advance on the strange character who called himself Tom Bombadil.
Iarwain let forth a deep, rolling belch, but whether 'twas a farewell or a command, the Elves had no idea. In the next moment, Iarwain and his ghostly house shimmered and vanished from the world. O'erhead the stars twinkled and the moon was revealed half shy of full, just rising o'er the forest. 'Twas early in the night still, as if but an hour had passed since all had first appeared. That night for the first time, Helluin and Beinvír removed from the falls and made a new camp upon the downs. Helluin wrapped Beinvír in her arms and tenderly held her in the dark as she cried her broken heart out.
Thither a messenger from Lindon found them early upon the morrow. He walked into their camp and hailed them formally upon sight, producing also a scroll bearing the royal seal.
To Be Continued