Chapter 11 - The Golden Isle
Once his tale was finished, Gandalf pressed Galadwen to tell him of what she knew of Sauron. She had no desire to relive her experience in the void nor to confess her weaknesses to the father she had just met. But under Gandalf's stern gaze, she dared not deny him. With the cool dawn light starting to fill the small room, she told Gandalf of her recent experience in the void. He listened closely and asked her many questions afterwards. Not just of Sauron, but also about her gift and the ending of the world with the void. His questions seemed endless.
"Why did you choose to leave Lothlorien now of all times?" he asked while puffing on his pipe.
The sudden change in topic caught her off guard. Galadwen gave a reluctant sigh before finally answering him. "As you know, for some time I suspected you were my father, so I have followed your possible futures more closely than others. I saw that you were going to encourage and help the dwarf Thorin Oakenshield in his quest to reclaim Erebor. I too saw that the halfling would join the party, and on this adventure, he would find a ring of power. I have seen this ring to do great evil in the hands of those who are weak. It brings on the terrible war and destruction that leads to the void faster than ever. With this ring in the wrong hands, we go from having decades of relative peace to only years. Even I have felt the strangeness of the ring when viewing it. I fear it may be one of the nine. But oddly, it does not affect the halfling like it does others. He seems to have a stronger character than his appearance would indicate."
Puffing on his pipe, Gandalf smiled at that.
"While it is in the halfling's keeping, it is nearly ineffective. Except for one trick. It will betray him like it did the creature that was its last master. So in answer to your question, I left Lothlorien to protect this halfling. To keep him safe and ensure the ring stays hidden in his keeping as long as possible. For we need time to find a way to defeat the evil that threatens Middle-Earth, else the destruction of the world will only be a matter of time."
"What have you seen of Thorin's quest?" Gandalf asked.
"Many things," Galadwen replied hesitantly. "It will be successful, in part. He will reach the mountain and find his way inside. But if the dragon is defeated, there will be a large battle on the slopes of Erebor. Many will die. I have seen a great orc host that will defeat any force in its path. Dwarves, men, and elves. None will stand against it and survive. Including Thorin's company and the halfling."
"When?" Gandalf asked with shock.
"The orc host will reach the mountain by the first waning moon of winter."
"Not enough time," Gandalf mumbled to himself.
"Not enough time for what?" Galadwen asked.
"Radagast has gone to inform the White Council of my suspicions regarding the Necromancer. But the White Council will do nothing unless I force the Necromancer to show his true self. Only then will Saruman agree to attack and remove Sauron from his stronghold in Dol Guldur." Gandalf pinched the brow of his nose in frustration. "But then the elves, dwarves, and men must be warned and prepared to face the army that is to come. They must unite and fight together. Only then will there be hope."
"Yes," Galadwen agreed, as she remembered the remote possibility of a small victory. "But many will still die."
Gandalf nodded, puffing thoughtfully on his pipe.
"If you would allow me, perhaps I can help. I can warn the elves of the orc host, as I will be passing through Thranduil's kingdom. But I fear I would be of little assistance with the dwarves and men."
"I think you will find Thranduil no easier to sway than an army of stubborn and prideful dwarves," Gandalf replied. "But nevertheless, I accept your offer. Thranduil is a cold, hard king. Like many elves safe inside their kingdoms, he does not care for anything beyond his borders, and especially not for dwarves. He must be at Erebor when the orc host arrives, but he will not march for the good of Middle-Earth. You must find another way to convince him to gather his forces and march on Erebor. Then warn the people at Laketown. They believe that they are safe from orcs on their lake, but you must convince them otherwise. Unite them with the elves. Then find Bilbo and keep him safe. Leave the mountain before the battle."
Galadwen nodded while wondering if avoiding the battle and therefore surviving would be possible. A small spark of hope ignited in her chest at the thought. But would it be right to do so, when so many others would die? Remembering the realisation she had come to in the void, Galadwen knew she could not save them all. But for the world to have a chance, she must save the halfling even if that meant fleeing from the battle.
With the morning sun now streaming into the room, it seemed as if Gandalf had finally finished asking his questions, so Galadwen took the opportunity to ask him the one question that was still on her mind.
"How did you do it?" Galadwen asked. "How did you bring my body back to life?"
"It was not dead as such," Gandalf replied slowly, as he came out of his own thoughts. "It had simply run out of energy. So I gave you some of mine."
"Mother did the same using the power of Nenya," Galadwen said. "When I was in the void, I saw a ring of fire on your hand that glowed with a brilliant white light."
Gandalf smiled at her then looked at his hands folded in his lap. "Narya," he whispered, and with a flash of red light, Galadwen saw a red ruby set in a gold ring upon his finger. Then it was gone.
"One of the three?" Galadwen asked in amazement. "But how? You are not an elf."
"What we are in this world has nothing to do with the blood that flows through our bodies. It is what is in our hearts and how we treat others, that defines who we are," Gandalf replied. "The ring was given to me by someone who knew what I truly am and foresaw my need for it."
"But how did you know I needed you here?" Galadwen asked.
"When you have been in this world as long as I have, you too may know where you are needed," Gandalf said. "I was in the High Fells of Rhudaur with another of my order, Radagast the Brown, investigating the tombs there when I felt something pulling me south. I sent Radagast to Lothlorien to inform Lady Galadriel and the White Council of my intentions, while I followed my heart here. I did not know it was you who needed me. But I am glad you did, for meeting you has been one of my greatest desires. You bring me such pleasure and I am very much looking forward to getting to know you.." Galadwen smiled at his kinds words and reached out her hand to him. Gandalf held her hand in his and squeezed it tight as if he never wanted to let it go.
Like that they stayed for a time, until, with the help of his staff, Gandalf slowly rose from his stool. From a hook by the doorway, he picked up a grey conical hat with a wide brim and placed it firmly on his head. "Now the morning is getting late and talking is a hungry business. So if you can manage it, would you join me for some breakfast?"
Smiling, Galadwen sent the tree at her back another thought of thanks and followed Gandalf out the doorway and into the new day. As she walked, Galadwen noticed that her body, although not back to its full strength, was surprisingly well rested.
Standing beside Gandalf on the small landing beyond the doorway, Galadwen shaded her eyes against the bright morning sun as she took in the scene before her. Standing about thirty yards above the ground, they looked out over the tops of the dark swampy forest of Gladden Fields. They were in one of a dozen giant poplar trees on a small island in the swamp. Similar huts were built at all different levels on the surrounding poplars. Except, where the other poplar trees were still the green of summer, the leaves on the poplar they stood in were the bright gold of autumn. The tree had given her all its summer life force.
"Thank you, noble tree, for your gift," Galadwen said aloud. "I name you Edhel, and wish you a long life." At her words, Gandalf gave her a strange look but said nothing.
Between the poplar trees and the swampy forest was about fifty yards of dark water, filled with people going about their business on rafts and small row boats. Laughter, shouting, and singing, mixed with the sounds of splashing water could be heard above the ruffling of the poplar leaves moving in the gentle breeze around them. The air was heavy with humidity and the earthy smells of the swamp.
Attached to the branch above them was a small elevating platform hanging from a pulley system, which explained how they had gotten her up the tree. Gandalf had started down a rope ladder that hung from the edge of the platform they were standing on. Galadwen followed him down it, but now that her body was moving, she wanted to stretch her limbs and test her recovered strength.
Reaching the roof of another hut, like the one she had rested in, Galadwen leapt from the ladder. Landing on the branch that formed the ridgeline of the roof, Galadwen ran down it to the trunk, and taking a hold of the large cracks in the bark, she climbed down the tree. Passing Gandalf on the rope ladder, she dropped onto a lower branch before leaping onto a ridgeline branch of another hut. In the trees is where she had grown up. It was where she felt the most at home.
With a large smile, Galadwen quickly climbed and leapt down the tree, landing gracefully on the damp soil at the bottom. There she waited patiently as Gandalf descended the ladder, more nibbly than his frame would suggest. He gave her an amused smile before taking off his hat and leading her through a low doorway into a lean-to house built against the side of the large tree. The smell of baked bread greeted Galadwen as they entered the dwelling. It was dark inside, with only a door and window at either end to give light. The room was stifling hot from the heat coming from a clay oven against one wall. At a long table against the tree trunk stood a short woman of middle years, with golden hair tied in a bun at the nape of her neck. She was kneading dough with the practised movements of someone who had been doing it a long time.
Looking up as they entered, the woman greeted them with a wide smile. "It pleases me no end ta see life in ya limbs," the woman said to Galadwen in a fast dialect of Westron. "I'm truly sorry bout the misunderstandin', m'lady."
Galadwen returned her smile. "No harm was done," she replied in her best Westron. "Thank you for taking care of me. But please, call me Galadwen."
"Of course, of course," the woman said, wiping her hands on her apron before coming over and taking Galadwen's hand. "I'm Ella. I'm honoured ta meet ya. Please take a seat and I'll get ya both somethin' ta eat." She guided Galadwen by the hand to a wooden seat at the far end of the table. Then Ella bustled out of the house calling out "Paige, Eel."
"Your Westron is quite good," Gandalf commented as he took a seat next to her. "Even I struggle to understand Ella."
"I had a good teacher," Galadwen replied with a smile. "I think you would know his name, Toron. He mentioned that he knew you."
"Did he now," Gandalf said, chuckling to himself.
Before Galadwen could ask what was amusing, Ella returned with a large basket of fruit under her arm. She set it down in front of them as a girl, on the cusp of womanhood, came running through the door behind her.
"Paige," Ella said to the girl, who on seeing Galadwen and Gandalf, had stopped running and stared at her feet with embarrassment. "Tell Master Mellor that our guest has awoken and ask for two mugs of his best mead. Then find your brother. I'm still waitin' for the fish he went ta fetch from the markets this mornin'."
"Yes Ma," the girl said, and with another shy glance towards their guests, ran back out the door.
"She's a good girl that," Ella said as she started putting cups and plates out for them. "Quiet like her Da was. A sensible head. Not like her brother. Those two are like chalk and cheese I tell ya. That boy loves ta talk. I'd bet my hat that he's been yakking away with the fisherwomen all mornin'. He could spin a yarn as well as any of 'em."
Galadwen shared a smile with Gandalf as Ella continued talking about her children. She could talk so fast without pausing for a breath, that Galadwen wondered how she did not collapse from lack of air. Ella only stopped talking when Paige came through the door carrying two tankards of mead, closely followed by a younger boy with short blond hair sticking out at all angles, carrying a string of dried fish.
"There ya are," Ella said, taking the tankards from Paige and placing them on the table in front of Galadwen and Gandalf.
"Ma," the boy said. "Ya'll never guess what Sissy told me at the markets. She said that eels swim all the way down ta the sea then back again. She said if ya catch an eel and give it a kiss, it'll bring ya back a pearl from the sea." Paige giggled behind her hand, while Ella frowned at the boy. "But I told her I'm not gonna kiss an eel, I am Eel, so I'll get her a pearl from the sea if she kisses me."
"Eel, ya'll not be swimming down ta the sea," Ella said with a stern look. "And ya'll not be kissing Sissy either."
"I wasn't gonna," the boy said with the same cheeky grin Galadwen had seen in her vision in the void. "She was gonna kiss me."
With an exasperated sigh, Ella took the fish from the boy and handed him an empty pail. "Be a good boy and fill this with water, then ya can have some lunch."
"Yes Ma," said the boy as he spun on his heel and ran out the door.
"Please, eat," Ella said as she put a couple of the dried fish on the table for them with the mead, sliced fruit and vegetables, bread, and a rich smelling hot steaming dish.
Galadwen's stomach grumbled in anticipation. She needed no more encouragement and began on the unfamiliar leafy greens that she had read about in one of Toron's books. They had an unusual peppery taste and went well with the sweet carrots.
The rich smell of the hot dish as Gandalf served himself intrigued Galadwen. Most everyday foods were not cooked in Lothlorien, and never meat, so she had never smelled anything like it before. Seeing Galadwen watch him eat, Gandalf gave her an encouraging nod. Deciding that after facing orcs and wargs, she should not be scared of a little food, Galadwen picked up a spoon and served herself some. The hot, thick stew tasted as good as it smelt. She assumed the small chunks were some type of meat, but having never tasted meat before, she could not be certain.
"What is this?" Galadwen asked Gandalf in Sindarin.
"I am quite sure that I do not want to know," Gandalf replied as he put another spoonful in his mouth.
Dissatisfied with his answer, Galadwen asked Ella.
"Water Rat Stew," Ella replied with a proud smile.
"Yes," Gandalf said under his breath in Sindarin. "I did not want to know." But that knowledge did not stop him putting another spoonful in his mouth.
With encouragement from their mother, Paige joined them for lunch, while Ella continued to knead the dough at the far end of the table. As they ate, Paige would keep shooting Galadwen shy glances from the corner of her eye. When Eel soon returned with the water, there was no shyness about him and he kept them entertained with his stories.
"Did ya know," he said with a mouthful of dried fish and bread. "My real name isn't Eel. That's just what everyone calls me since I swam like an eel ta get away from orcs. Ya wanna hear the story?"
Galadwen nodded as she chewed a mouthful of the soft bread.
"Well," Eel said. "When I was little."
"Last autumn," Ella amended.
"When I was littler," Eel revised with a glance to his mother. "I'd go out fishing with Uncle Jon. He knows where all the biggest fish are. But after we caught a fish or two, we'd go on our secret business. Ya see we had a secret job that he used ta do with his Da before he died. This secret job is passed down from father ta son ya see. For nearly a hundred years. But cos he's only got girls and my Da is dead, he'd take me."
"What was this secret business?" Gandalf asked, eyeing the boy over his spoon.
"Ahhh," said Eel, enjoying the attention. "It was very secret business. Not even Ma knew about it. Uncle Jon said a great wizard had lost his favourite gold ring in the river. The wizard told Uncle Jon's Da's Da that if he found it for him, he'd get a reward of great riches. They made a map of the river and would cross off areas they'd looked. Every once in a while the wizard would stop by ta check their progress and give 'em some gold for their efforts. Uncle Jon said his Da found a jewel in the river once that the wizard paid him richly for. He said that it was set in some strange silver metal and seemed ta reflect the light of the stars, even when none were about."
"Did your Uncle say what this wizard looked like?" Gandalf asked.
"Nah, but I saw him for myself one time," Eel replied. "He was tall. Taller than you. With long white hair and beard. And he wore a white robe. I don't know how he kept it so white. Ma is always tellin' me off for gettin' dirty, even when I haven't been anywhere. I bet he used his magic. I would if I had any, then Ma wouldn't have ta keep tellin' me off." He grinned at his Ma, who was now rolling the dough into buns.
"I'm sure you'd find other things ta do so I could still tell ya off," Ella replied with a fond smile.
"So anyway," Eel continued. "It wasn't a week after the wizard came and we had finally filled all the river on the map with crosses and were going over some of the older spots. We had the boat tied up in the river and Uncle Jon was diving under it. It was my job ta keep an eye on things and make sure the boat didn't float away. But that day I really needed ta, ya know," he said gesturing oddly.
Galadwen frowned at Eel, then looked at Gandalf for clarification, but he seemed just as confused on what the boy meant.
"I needed ta," the boy started to say, shifting uncomfortably with embarrassment. "I needed ta drop the brown logs in the river," he finally said in a rush. Gandalf chuckled at this, but Galadwen just frowned at him, still not comprehending. "I didn't wanna do it on Uncle Jon's head, so I jumped outta the boat and swam to shore. So here I was, squatting over the river bank when two massive orcs jumped out. It scared the crap out of me," Eel said with a snigger.
Gandalf chortled, Galadwen raised her eyebrows in surprise and Ella scolded her son for his foul language.
Looking abashed but please with himself, Eel continued his story. "So one of them grabbed me you see. He had huge hands, with long bony fingers and dirty claws for nails. But I was still slippery wet so I slipped out of his hold, only ta be caught in a bear hold by the other orc. I didn't like being that close ta him cos he smelt rotten. The first orc was growling at me in some foul language as he came at me with a knife in his ugly hands. I didn't want ta wait around ta see what he was gonna do with the knife so I wiggled with all my might in the smelly orc's arms. Until suddenly I went plop and slipped out the bottom of his arms. The orc with the knife came at me, but quick as a rat, I jumped in the lake. Everyone knows orcs aren't great swimmers, so once I reached Uncle Jon's boat, I knew I was safe.
"But you'll never believe it, Uncle Jon was so busy diving he didn't even know the orcs had nearly got me. Once he saw them on the bank, he stopped diving and we rowed away. But that wasn't the end of the orcs. Oh no, they followed us along the bank, keeping up with the boat. I was scared that we wouldn't ever be able ta get ta shore again. But Uncle Jon, he's a smart man and he had a plan.
"We lowered the anchor rock and Uncle Jon got back in the river to do some more diving. While he was at it, I lay down as if I was tired see, leaving just my hat showing over the gunnel of the boat. Then when Uncle Jon gave the say so, I slipped overboard without the orcs knowing. Then we dived underwater, and holding our breaths until I thought I was gonna burst, we swam with the eels through the river grass downstream. It was a sad thing to leave Uncle Jon's boat. But Uncle Jon said it was worth it ta get away safe. And imagine how long those orcs would have sat there watching the empty boat!"
Galadwen smiled in amusement as Eel finished his tale with a proud grin.
"What happened with the wizard?" Gandalf asked.
"Oh, we had ta stop looking for the ring then. Uncle Jon had ta explain ta Ma why he didn't have a boat no more, and she wasn't too happy when he told her about the orcs. Said we had ta cut that nonsense and not put our lives in danger looking for a good for nothin' wizard's ring. And we never saw the wizard again."
Gandalf frowned as he nodded thoughtfully to himself. He took out his pipe and started packing it.
"Mr Gandalf," Ella said. "You'll not be smoking in here. Please take that outside so the smoke doesn't ruin the dough."
Gandalf looked at her in surprise, then with a huff, snatched up his hat and walked out.
Galadwen looked on in amusement. These people obviously didn't know who Gandalf was. He was just another old traveller to them, and he did nothing to correct that view. She stood, and thanking Ella for the delicious meal, she followed him out.
Gandalf was sitting on a large stump overlooking the busy waterway, thoughtfully puffing on his pipe. Galadwen quietly took a seat beside him. She peacefully watched the locals aptly go about their business on all manner of watercraft. An old man with weathered skin, sitting in a hollowed out log, lazily paddled past them, with the slow but deliberate strokes of one who had spent his life on the water. Behind him came a young man on the back of a raft that was piled high with straw. He used a long pole to slowly push his raft forward. He called out to two women chatting merrily in a rowing boat stacked high with fish traps. They called back before continuing to row in the opposite direction. There were fisher men and women returning with the mornings catch, some whistling as they went. A group of women and children sat on a long barge like raft with baskets in their laps, while armed men pushed them through the water, and into the swampy forest beyond.
Galadwen found it fascinating to watch these people go about their daily lives. Mortal lives that were so short. So much noise and activity. More action than she was used to seeing in Lothlorien. These people lived in a dangerous place during uncertain times, but they had adapted and life still went on. She was not sure if elves would be able to adapt as easily.
Gandalf interrupted her thoughts with his own grumblings in Westron. "He's very prideful. I have always known that. And he has always craved more power. Yes, but not just craved it, he has been acquiring it. He thinks I do not know, but I have seen through his omissions and half-truths. And now, he is looking for the ring. Surely he cannot mean to use it. He must know it only answers to one master. To wield it would be terrible indeed. No, I cannot believe it. We were brought here to protect against the darkness. I don't believe he could have strayed so far from our mission. For he is our leader, the wisest of us. The one chosen to guide us."
"You talk of Saruman?" Galadwen asked in Sindarin, interrupting his thoughts. Gandalf looked at her in surprise, seeming to only just realise that she was sitting next to him.
"Yes," Gandalf said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "What do you know about him?"
"Nothing for certain," Galadwen replied. "I know he is powerful. His power and influence stretch across the far reaches of Middle-Earth. I believe that he desires even greater power to defeat Sauron. But I fear what that power could do to him. I have seen many futures where he will betray you and your order."
Puffing thoughtfully on his pipe, Gandalf turned back to stare out across the water. When he finally finished his pipe, he carefully put it away and turned back to Galadwen.
"I wish we had more time," Gandalf said, taking one of her hands in his. "But the fate of Middle-Earth is in our hands. I must leave for Dol Guldur at once."
Remembering some of Gandalf's possible futures, Galadwen suddenly feared for him. "But you cannot go alone," she said, squeezing his hand in earnest. "Sauron has the power to destroy you. I have seen it. Please," she begged. "I cannot lose you after only just finding you."
He replied with a warm smile. "We are both immortals Galadwen. You cannot lose me. If something happens to me, we will still see each other again in Valinor. I do not fear death, and neither should you. For death is only the end of one journey and the beginning of another."
"I have seen my death enough times to know that it is inevitable. I do not fear it. I only fear my own failure."
"That is good," Gandalf said with a sad smile. "So hear me now, I will not fail you. For I will not be alone. Galadriel and the White Council will come to my aid. It is never a goodbye, only a see you later."
Perhaps it was being amongst these people who wore their heart on their sleeve, or perhaps it was being away from the confines of elven society, but Galadwen surprised even herself as she threw her arms around Gandalf in a tight hold. She could not dispel the grin of pure happiness on her face as Gandalf's arms embraced her.
"I love you, my strong and courageous daughter," Gandalf said as he held her close.
"I love you too Adar," Galadwen replied, trying and failing to hold back the tears.
After a long moment that felt all too short to Galadwen, Gandalf pulled back and stood up. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he looked into her emerald eyes sparkling with tears of happiness. "I have no right to ask anything of you Galadwen," he said. "But please, let your body recover for another day, even two, before you continue your journey. You will need all your strength for the challenges ahead."
"Yes Adar," Galadwen replied.
Gandalf smiled again, then leaned down and laid a tender kiss on Galadwen's forehead. "I will see you again on the slopes of Erebor."
Galadwen watched him walk away through a vision blurred with tears. Fifty yards down the shoreline was a small jetty. Gandalf approached the man perched on a post at the end of the jetty, and after a short discussion, they both climbed into a canoe and soon disappeared between the trees of the swampy forest.
Galadwen sat on that stump for a while, staring where Gandalf had disappeared from her view. That was until a presence caught her attention. Paige was standing half a dozen yards from the stump, shyly watching her. Galadwen gave her a warm smile and motioned for Paige to join her on the stump. With a small smile, Paige ran over to the stump, then hesitantly sat next to Galadwen.
Elven children in Lothlorien were few and far between so Galadwen had no experience with children. She found herself at a loss for what to say to her. So they sat in silence for a while, watching the water.
"I saw ya climbin' down our tree," Paige finally said in a whisper, as if she was sharing a great secret.
"Yes," Galadwen replied with a smile. "I like to climb trees. But is it not something you do here?"
"Ma used ta say children shouldn't climb trees cos they're likely ta fall and hurt themselves," Paige replied in a quiet voice. "I love climbin' trees so I used ta climb them anyway. But now she says young women shouldn't climb trees cos it's not the done thing for a respectable woman."
Galadwen thought about that for a moment before replying. "I have a special connection to trees. The ones I grew up with were my friends and I would talk to them daily. They would listen and answer me. Because of that, I knew that when I was in a tree, I was safe."
"Ya talk ta trees and they answer?" Paige asked with a sceptic tone.
"Oh yes," Galadwen replied. "The trees in Lothlorien were awake, and they would move and grow when you sing to them. The trees here are asleep still, but I could try to wake them up if you would like?"
Paige nodded slowly. There was an eagerness in her eyes, but her face still showed scepticism.
"Well I need to get to know all the trees first, so would you like to be my guide around the island?"
Paige nodded more eagerly this time. They stood, and Galadwen followed Paige back to the golden-leaved tree.
"This is our tree," Paige said proudly.
"Do you have a name for it?" Galadwen asked.
"We name the trees after the family that lives in 'em. This is called Captain's Tree, after Da. They tried ta call it Baker's Tree after Da died, but Ma wasn't havin' any of it. So now the new Captain's tree is called New Captain's Tree."
Galadwen placed her palm on the tree. "Hello, Captain's Tree. Thank you for keeping Paige and her family safe, and thank you again for the gift you gave me."
"What'd the tree give ya?" Paige asked.
"Some of its energy," Galadwen replied. "When Gandalf woke me up, I was very weak, so the tree gave me its summer energy. That's why its leaves went all yellow before the other trees."
Paige gazed up the tree trunk to the golden leaves above in amazement. "How?" she asked. "Can I learn?"
"I talked to it," Galadwen said simply. "And yes, you can learn. You just put your hand on the tree and say hello. A tree can be your best friend. You can tell it your secrets and all the best stories. Trees are great listeners. It may take a long time for the tree to reply, but if you talk to it enough, it will."
Paige put her hand on the trunk beside Galadwen's. "Hello Captain's Tree," Paige whispered to it. "Thanks for keepin' me safe. And thanks for keepin' Ma and Eel safe too. Thanks for keepin' Ma's wheat dry. And thanks for not catchin' fire last winter when I forgot about the candle."
Once she was done, Paige looked to Galadwen for approval.
"The tree was listening," Galadwen said with a warm smile. "Shall we go say hello to the other trees?"
Paige nodded, and lead Galadwen around the island.
"This is Chandlery Tree," Paige said as they approached another tall poplar. At the base of it was another lean-to, except the entrance to this one was stacked high with boxes of all sorts and sizes. Galadwen laid her hand upon the tree trunk and sent it a greeting, and smiled as Paige did the same. As they talked to the tree, a broad-chested a man, walking with a heavy limp, approached them. He took Galadwen's hand in both of his own.
"From the bottom of my heart, I thank ya for saving my wife and daughter," the man said, squeezing her hand gratefully.
Galadwen felt her heart swell with the sincerity of the man's words. "It was my pleasure," she replied with a warm smile.
With embarrassment turning his face red, he bowed over Galadwen's hand before quickly shuffling back into the lean-to.
"That's Eddy," Paige whispered to her. "Durin' an orc attach a couple of years ago, his eldest son was killed and Eddy got an axe in the leg. Left him with the limp. Ma said he was lucky ta survive."
"Do the orcs attack often?" Galadwen asked her.
"Didn't use ta. But they've been happenin' more and more. Yours was the third this summer. And winter is usually worse."
Galadwen nodded thoughtfully as Paige continued showing her the trees around the island.
With as many trees as they greeted, more people approached them to give Galadwen their thanks. Most held her hand in theirs as they thanked her. One old fisherwoman, with tears streaming down her face, gave Galadwen a hug, much to Galadwen's surprise. When the fisherwoman left, Galadwen looked to Paige, who like all the previous times, told her of the person who had just left.
"That's Joan, Sissy's Gran'ma," Paige said in her quiet voice. "Long ago, before I was born, her daughters were captured by orcs." Paige shivered before she continued in her matter of fact voice. "Her husband and two of her sons died when they went after them. Joan forbade her youngest son, Sissy's Da, ta go after them. So he grew up and married Sissy's Ma. But then she died giving birth ta Sissy's little brother. And last year Sissy's Da died protecting some farmers from orcs. So now Joan's only got Sissy and her brother."
"So many people are dying," Galadwen said. For every person that had given Galadwen their thanks, Paige had told her of at least a couple of people they had lost to orcs. "Is there nothing that can be done?"
"They're tryin'," Paige said. "After ya killed all those orcs, Master Mellor declared that any woman who wishes ta learn will be trained ta fight. But we don't have many good warriors left ta teach us."
Galadwen walked in thoughtful silence as they approached another tree. This tree had a large building all around the base of the tree. The round building centred on the tree trunk, with small windows dotted around the exterior wall. Over the front door was a painted sign showing honeycomb dripping into a beer glass.
"This is Master Mellor's Tree," Paige said. "He tried ta get people to call it Master Mellor's Mead Tree, but everyone calls it Tavern Tree."
Galadwen followed Paige through the low door. Although it was still early, nearly a dozen people sat at the dimly lit tables lining the outside wall. The conversations hushed as Galadwen entered and all eyes turned to her. Behind the bar against the tree trunk stood a large man with a rotund middle. Polishing the bar with a cloth, he smiled at Galadwen.
"Welcome ta Master Mellor's Mead House," the man said in a loud booming voice. "I'm ya honoured host, Master Mellor. Please, won't ya take a seat." He came around the bar and indicated that they follow him. "Ya're just in time for the start of tonight's entertainment. My daughter Lilly has the most beautiful voice," he said proudly as he directed them to a seat against the wall, opposite a small stage.
"If you could be so kind," Galadwen replied, "we would like to sit next to your impressive tree."
"Of course," Master Mellor said, indicating they take a small table against the tree trunk next to the stage.
Galadwen sat on the wooden bench, polished smooth by years of use. With Galadwen seated, the other patrons returned to their own conversations. As Master Mellor bustled away to attend to the requests of another patron, Galadwen placed her palm on the trunk and sent the tree a greeting. Sitting across the table from her, Paige mirrored Galadwen's movements, sending the tree her own greeting. Galadwen smiled at the girl's earnestness.
With a frown at the other patrons, Paige leaned forward and whispered to Galadwen. "Not everyone copes well with loss. Ma says there is comfort for some at the bottom of a flagon, but those who do nothing but drink are no better than the dead cos they're dead inside. People here," Paige said, indicating the people sitting at the tables, "are dead inside."
Galadwen looked at the other patrons more closely. Some were dressed in relatively tidy clothes, others in barely more than rags. But all of them had an unkempt look, with dirt stains and messy hair. What really hit Galadwen hard was the same distant look in every eye. The haunted look of those who had given up on life. They had no desire to fight, no hope. Their only comfort was their drunk comrades of loss sitting with them, sharing their misery. Galadwen felt her chest tighten with their pain. She had not had an easy childhood, but at least she had not lost anyone she loved, and until recently she had been safe. These people had not been so fortunate. Her heart went out to them. Galadwen had never seen an elf fade, but she suspected this was the human equivalent. She wished there was something she could do to help.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sweet voice that filled the tavern. On the stage next to them now stood a young girl with sandy hair in plaited pigtails. Her clear voice hushed the patrons as she sang a mournful song. Galadwen struggled to follow all the words, but from what she could understand, the song was a lament to those who died before their time. It was a simple song compared to the elven ones Galadwen knew, but it was sung with such pure emotion by a girl who should not know such feelings that Galadwen could not help but be moved. When the final pure note sounded, there was not a dry eye in the house. The sounds of men and women crying openly filled the following silence.
Then Master Mellor bustled over and with a frown, whispered something in the girl's ear. She nodded before starting to sing an upbeat jig. She sang well but it sounded almost flat to Galadwen when compared to the strong emotions of the previous song.
Master Mellor returned to their table with a jug of mead for Galadwen and a small pint of something for Paige.
"That's my Lilly," Master Mellor said with pride towards the girl singing on the stage. "Beautiful voice doesn't she? Best voice on the island, so everyone says."
"Yes, beautiful indeed," Galadwen replied. "That last song-"
"A favourite of our regulars, but not one fit for a guest such as ya'self," Master Mellor said.
"It was beautiful," Galadwen insisted.
"Oh," Master Mellor said, taken aback. "Well then," he said and bustled away.
Galadwen smiled as Paige giggled. "He's not used ta bein' told he's wrong," Paige said with another giggle.
As Lilly started her fourth song, Master Mellor returned to their table with two bowls of stew and a plate of buns that Galadwen recognised as Ella's handy work.
"Thank you, Master Mellor," Galadwen said as he placed the food in front of her. "But I have no money to pay you for this."
"Don't fear m'lady, ya got half the island offering ta pay your bill," Master Mellor said with a grin. "So ya'll be eatin' and drinkin' well tonight."
Galadwen looked around the tavern that had been slowly filling up with men and women, and she wondered how she could thank these people for their kindness and generosity. Killing a few orcs hardly felt like a fair trade for the warm welcome she had received.
The rich steaming food reminded Galadwen how hungry she was. Her recovering body demanded a huge amount of sustenance. With her mouth watering at the delicious smell, she tore a piece of bread off and dipped it in the thick, creamy stew. It was different to Ella's stew but no less appetizing.
When Galadwen had taken her first mouthful, Paige eagerly dug into her own bowl.
"This is Misses Mellor's famous Trout Soup," Paige said between mouthfuls. "Everyone says how good it is, but Ma would never buy us any."
"And what do you think?" Galadwen asked her.
"It's really good," Paige gushed before putting another mouthful of soup-soaked bread into her mouth. "But I think Ma's bread makes it better."
"I agree," Galadwen said, which made Paige grin.
As they ate, Lilly finished another song and was replaced on the stage by an old man playing a small twangy string instrument and a younger woman with a flute. Their instruments produced a strange but complementary sound when they played. Taking turns singing popular folk songs, they were heartily applauded at the end of each.
Galadwen finished her first bowl of stew, and other soon replaced it, then a third. It was all washed down with a handful more jugs of the golden mead. Leaning against the trunk of the tree, feeling it's life force flow through her, Galadwen felt quite content as she listened to the music and watched the people crowding the tavern. Paige sat opposite her, leaning against the trunk like Galadwen, and every now and then would whisper to Galadwen some story or details about people she would spot in the tavern. Like all her previous stories, loss of loved ones was the main theme. And yet somehow these people continued living their lives to the fullest, laughing and joking with friends over a drink after a long days work. But not all. Galadwen remembered the vacant stares of those that had been in the tavern all day. She could still pick them out amongst the crowd, with their unkempt look and the smiles that did not reach their dead eyes.
A loud bell went off, and there was a sudden frenzy as the patrons rushed about. Galadwen gave Paige a questioning look.
"The last call for drinks," she said in her usual quiet voice. If it wasn't for Galadwen's keen elven hearing, she would not have been able to hear Paige over the noise in the tavern. "Misses Mellor makes Master Mellor close at the same time every night. Ma says it's her one condition for agreeing ta marry him."
The man and women playing on stage, played a final song then followed by a hearty applause from the crowd, went to the bar for a drink. With the music stopped, some of the patrons started to file out. The haunted eyes of a man sitting nearby as he stared into his final glass of the day touched Galadwen deeply. So with a boldness enhanced by a dozen jugs of mead, Galadwen rose from her seat and took to the stage. The tavern instantly went silent as all eyes turned towards her, filling her stomach with butterflies and tightening her throat. But for those haunted eyes, now looking her way, Galadwen opened her mouth and started to sing.
She sang in Quenya of Nienna, the Valier of Mourning. The song, taught to her by Nestor, was not of endless grief, but of hope and continuing on when all seems lost. She sang of the death of the Lamps by Melkor and the subsequent destruction of the land. Nienna mourned the lamps, but hope was not lost. Yavanna sang into existence the two trees Laurelin and Telperion. Watered with the tears of Nienna's grief, the trees grew into mighty sources of light. The world rejoiced and all basked in the light of the two trees. All except Melkor, who with the assistance of Ungoliant, a giant spider-like creature, destroyed the two trees.
Again Yavanna sang and Nienna wept for the destruction of the trees. And still hope was not lost, for with the power of their grief, a final silver flower emerged from Telperion and a single golden fruit from Laurelin. These were given to Tilion and Arien to be carried into the heavens to become the Moon and the Sun, lighting the whole world for all to enjoy. So from the death and destruction, grief and hope have the power to create something more beautiful than what had been before, only if we have the heart to continue on when all seems lost. Singing the last words of hope and determination, Galadwen felt her own heart renewed with hope for her quest and the future of Middle Earth.
As the last note echoed around the walls and silence settled over the tavern, Galadwen thought that perhaps she had made a mistake by singing in a language they did not know. But as she looked around the room, she saw every eye fixed to her with mixtures of wonder, hope, and determination on their faces. The man who had sat near her with the empty eyes now stared at her with tears streaming down his face. There was a determined set to his jaw and a spark of hope in his eyes. Galadwen smiled and took a bow. The spell of silence broke as people started to clap. The applause grew to a thunderous racket of stomping, cheering and whistling as Galadwen returned to her seat.