Chapter 9
March, Third Age 2968, Halls of King Thranduil
Falling asleep in the library for the tenth time that week hadn't been the plan, yet Emily found herself being shaken awake once again all the same.
Groggily, she opened her eyes, lifted her head slowly from her books, and squinted up at the disturber of her slumber. After the fourth time someone had woken her, she'd stopped startling awake and apologizing. By now she was becoming mildly annoyed whenever someone tried to be helpful and ask if she should go to bed.
The creased brow and telling frown of her Uncle Faervel greeted her as he bent over her with a hand on her shoulder.
Rubbing her eyes, Emily moaned. "What did I do this time? I haven't even been outside all week...scratch that, I haven't been out in almost two weeks, nor have I left the library...what could I have possibly done?"
Shaking his head, Faervel gave her a pointed look. "Why must you always assume I am going to lecture you every time we interact?"
Peering at him in the dim morning light of her alcove, Emily shrugged. "Because I feel like I'm always in trouble with you?"
"Always?" Faervel raised his eyebrows at her and folded his arms.
Not really caring at the moment about feelings or making him mad, Emily sleepily told the truth.
"Most of the time."
She didn't see the lopsided smile grace his face as she began dragging her things into the bag at her feet. Class would be soon judging by the sunlight breaking through on the ceilings of the cavern. Another night spent sleeping at a desk. Her neck didn't thank her, nor her back. She just hoped that she'd actually got everything she needed to do and not dreamt it instead.
"Perhaps you just have a talent for finding trouble."
Slamming the top of her bag closed with slightly more force necessary, Emily cast a sharp look at her uncle. "I really wish people would stop saying that! Trouble finds me, not the other way around."
Faervel laughed, taking her bag from her gently, setting it on the table, and tossing her a bundle instead.
"Put these on." He ordered, leaning against the wall and glancing out the door of the alcove into the rest of the library.
Confused, Emily recognized her cloak and soft leather boots as well as socks for her bare feet. "But, I have classes."
"Consider this a prison break," Faervel told her mildly, jerking his head to the bundle in her hands. "Hurry up. We do not have all day."
Slowly, Emily pulled on her sock and boots, staring bewildered at her usually serious and tightly wrapped uncle. Once her boots were on, Faervel rocked forwards and started off, waving for her to follow without so much as a backward glance. Running to keep up with him, Emily fought with the clasp of her cloak and realized now they were in a better light that Faervel was also dressed for the outdoors.
"Where are we going?" Emily asked.
"You will see."
He took her out the front gates, nodding to the guards as they went. Blinking and squinting in the bright light of the day, Emily drew a deep breath and let her senses take in the day.
The warm breath of spring tousled her hair playfully, chasing away the cold that lingered from the previous night and bringing things above freezing. Patches of snow dotted the forest floor, revealing to Emily that in the near two weeks she had spent locked away in the library, Springtime had arrived. The dead leaves rustled underfoot but without the same finality and crush that leaves in the fall do. There was a feeling of waking in the warmth of the day, with birds calling cheerily to each other and life returning to the limbs of the trees after the long winters rest. The branches no longer creaked and squeaked in the cold when the wind blew, instead they swayed with easy spring in their boughs.
"When did things warm up!?" Emily exclaimed, gazing in awe at the transformed forest and melting snow. She felt the buzzing of life waking from hibernation in the back of her mind. It threatened to overwhelm her talents and had it been when she first discovered them, she would have been. Now that she was more skilled at managing them, she could mute the chorus of voices and focus instead on her Uncle.
"Friday of last week," Faervel answered, still keeping a brisk pace as he led them through the woods.
"Oh wow! Look how swollen the river is! The snow must have melted fast!"
"Indeed they did. Do not get caught in the waters," Faervel warned. "They are unforgiving this time of year."
"Yes, thank you." Emily couldn't help making a face. "I did grow up in a country known for its harsh winters and dangerous springtime. I know about rivers and their dangers."
Laughing again with his light, breezy chuckle, Faervel glanced down at her and teased. "I thought perhaps I better remind you, seeing as you have a history with falling into the water."
"OK! But that was NOT my fault!" Emily protested. "Daerada was really scary and intimidating and I didn't realize how close to the edge I was!"
Grinning, a look that well suited him and made him look younger, Faervel said nothing more and continued to lead Emily up through trails she was having trouble recognizing. Everything looked so different without the snow.
Singing greeted her ears in the distance, heralding a sizable group of elves in the trees ahead. Then she saw smoke rising gently through the trees and wafting to them on the breeze.
Inhaling, Emily had to stop for a moment.
"Wait…"
Faervel turned to her, his face working to stay neutral as humor danced in his eyes.
"Why...why does the smoke smell like…"
"Smell like what?"
Emily closed her eyes and inhaled deeper, drinking in the sweet scent mixed with the smell of campfire.
"Maple syrup!?" Eyes snapping open, Emily could hardly trust her nose, looking wildly and hoping against all hopes as she questioned her uncle. "Is that what I think it is?!"
"It is." Faervel laughed as she surged forth in haste so she could get a better look.
"But, I didn't think there WAS Maple Syrup in Middle Earth!" Emily cried excitedly, following the sweet smokey scent like a hound. "Why has no one said anything?! Why haven't we had any at meals?!"
"Because the last two years were not optional years for the sap to run, thus we have been out of syrup for a while," Faervel told her, clearly enjoying her enthusiasm. "And I happened to overhear you lamenting the fact to your sister that there was none not long after your arrival and that you deeply missed tapping the trees, collecting sap, boiling it, and enjoying the labors of spring, so, I requested everyone stayed quiet as the season approached so it could be a surprise."
They rounded the last bend, and through the bare trees, Emily could finally make out the grove of Sugar maples and see the camp where elves were gathering sap from the pails and pouring it into the huge pan for boiling.
"I LOVE IT!" Emily cried, her face bright and glowing as she took in a picture that made her feel so much at home.
"I thought you might." Faervel smiled, coming to stand next to her. He was nearly knocked over when she hugged him suddenly.
"Thank you!" Emily said, tightening her arms and willing all her gratitude to be felt through their still fledgling familial bond. "You have no idea how much I needed this right now!"
"Hmm," Faervel returned the hug warmly. "I can only imagine, what with you sleeping in the Library rather than your own rooms."
Pulling back, the elder elf took in his niece's bright eyes, huge smile, and healthy color in her cheeks. All signs of fatigue vanished from her body and instead she was practically buzzing with energy.
"You really should not spend so long indoors," Faervel told her seriously. "It isn't good for any elf to spend so long locked underground, in a dimly lit study space no less. I should have dragged you out here sooner."
"No matter!" Emily shrugged him off brightly. "I am here now and there is work to be done!"
"Then we best get to it." Faervel agreed, handing her some buckets and sauntering off into the trees with his own. "Start down there and work your way up to me."
Without hesitation, Emily sprang off in the direction Faervel had pointed, hurrying to collect what she could before more people arrived and she had to compete for trees to gather from. Many hands make light work, however, Emily wasn't ready to share her work just yet. It was too dear to her.
Emily stepped lightly from tree to tree, her buckets swinging in her hands and getting heavier with each tree she visited. Everything about the day and the activity brought a deep calm to her soul.
Oh how she loved this time of year, and how even more she had adored the Sugar Bush growing up.
The empty pails on the trees, on a warm day, make a pleasant symphony of light 'pinging' as the sap drips into them with an upbeat rhythm. As the woods come to life, they seem to call you deeper and deeper, promising renewal and rebirth for your weary heart. It was even more true in Greenwood than on Earth.
Gathering had always been a highlight of the day and still was. Emily loved going from tree to tree and seeing how well they ran since the last gathering. Thirsty? The sap has a wonderful nectar, cool, sweet, and clear. A little dirt didn't bother her and the draught was quenching.
Wafting down from camp, she could smell the sweet smoke and steam of the sap boiling down into maple syrup. She knew she just had to go stand in the steam. It lingers through the hair and clothing as a beautiful, sweet, and smoky scent. Best smell ever.
Smiling, Emily knew she had plenty of time to stand in the steam. Boiling down the sap takes days, and gallons of sap to make just a few liters of syrup. You need about 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of syrup and it takes about four hours to boil down 5 gallons. To get the best yield, you boil all night and keep adding in more sap as it boils down. When it's ready, it will 'flake' off the scoop, like a lazy drip. When it's finished, or at least close to done, it can be taken to finish boiling off, be strained, and cleaned indoors before getting bottled up and stored.
Hot, fresh maple syrup is probably the best thing ever tasted.
Tasting and testing, skimming off foam and debris, enjoying the spring weather, and taking walks are all pastimes while boiling, ones that Emily eagerly looked forward to today. If she wasn't doing that, there was always cutting up dead wood to keep the fire going.
"I will trade you."
Faervel interrupted her happy thoughts as he held out two empty buckets and moved to take the ones she was beginning to struggle with.
"Oh, no! I've got it!" Emily began. A raised eyebrow slowed her protest. "I can carry them."
"There are plenty of opportunities to carry heavy buckets, Emily," Faervel told her, sounding amused. "It does not reflect your abilities if I carry these up for you...that and there are many trees. You are going to need to pace yourself if you plan to see the day through."
Reisa bounded past just then, having been brought out later by a guard on Faervel's orders. He hadn't wanted the pup to ruin the surprise by running ahead and babbling to Emily before she had a chance to figure out what was going on for herself. It was a prudent call, for the labrador was uncontainable, racing about, smelling smells, chasing squirrels, jumping in puddles then putting her muddy paws all over the workers within seconds of arriving. All the while her little soul buzzed away at Emily through their bond, ecstatic.
Faervel and Emily watched the dog zoom off, nose to the ground, and then Emily noticed her uncle was still holding out the empty pails to her.
"Right…" Emily ducked her head and grinned a little at the ground feeling foolish, yet she noted not as embarrassed as she might have been once over something so small. Leaving her full buckets, she took them. "I'll just go collect more sap than, shall I?"
"The trees are running well," Faervel nodded as he headed off once more. "There should be plenty to gather."
What Faervel said was true. There was much to collect and for the remainder of that morning, Emily trekked to and fro with buckets alongside her people, laughing merrily, learning new songs, and finding herself revived in a way she hadn't known she needed.
The past weeks had been draining and a little lonely. Merenith was away with her mentor, learning about healing trees deep in the woods. She wouldn't be back for a few days. The Dull Ones were on their rotation for patrol and weren't due home for another two weeks. With her friends gone, Emily had thrown herself into assignments and studying to pass the time. The anxious perfectionist ruled mercilessly without the distraction of her companions, causing her to obsess over getting it right and lay awake at night worrying about letting everyone down if she didn't do well in her classes.
As she stood by the fireside, watching the steam rise up off the boiling sap and drinking in the sweet smell, Emily took a sip of the liquid in her tin cup. She smiled, listening to the laughing and singing around her, feeling utterly at ease and accepted.
The feeling was wonderful. Emily was pretty sure she had talked to more new people today than she had in months and interacted with them genuinely, without fear. Ordinarily, she stuck with her own group, kept her head down, and avoided talking to too many other people for fear of them disliking her. Without her friends here today, she found herself forced to step forward and take it all on and she had done so with surprising confidence.
I suppose it could be because this is my happy place…in the woods gathering sap like old times. Emily mused as she considered her bravery that day. People really are way nicer than I keep imagining them to be, and just as accepting as my friends. I feel so at home with them all. It's so easy. Maybe I should spend more time out and about without Merenith sometimes.
Being out here, working together with her people, and being a part of something brought things into focus, if only for a moment. Maybe it wasn't all about how well she did at something. Maybe Glorfindel was right and what really counted was her willingness to give it her all, do her best and be eager to work hard for the good of everyone, including herself.
Shaking her head, Emily couldn't contain the joy over the weight lifting from her shoulders.
"That." Faervel walked toward her, smiling slightly as he regarded her with satisfaction. "That is what I was hoping to see."
"What?"
"That smile, your real one, like you do not have a care in the world."
Laughing, Emily tilted her face to the sky. "Right now? I don't!"
"And what has changed." Faervel asked her, standing next to her and drinking from the cup in his hand.
"I'm not really sure." Emily told him. "But I think, if only for this moment, I really believe that I don't have to be perfect. That the acceptance of our people isn't based on how well I perform, and that people aren't as scary as I think they are. I think for once I don't feel like I have to strive to prove to myself I belong. I don't know...I just feel...at home."
Faervel studied her seriously as if deeply considering her words, then he gazed at the group around them, taking in the many elves sharing in the joy of spring.
"You are correct." He said slowly, almost more to himself. "Their acceptance is not based on how well we perform. They do not expect perfection, only honest effort."
Coming back to himself, Faervel gave Emily his lopsided smile and opened his arms in invitation, hugging her fiercely.
"Thank you." He said quietly.
"What...why!?" Emily squawked, pulling away a little and squinting up at him. "I should be thanking you, Vede. Not the other way around."
"You are not the only one who needs reminding that one does not have to be perfect." The elder elf told her soberly, hooking an arm around her and leading her away from the camp. Reisa appeared at their heels, panting as she trotted along with a goofy grin. "Now then, I hear there is a home high in a tree that needs repairs so two awful elflings can live in it and cause more mayhem than they already do. You better show me what you envision so I can start working on some of it...not that I am in a hurry to see you out of the palace. It will be so much harder to keep you two from causing trouble out here."
Emily laughed, smacking her uncle playfully. "Vede…We aren't going to cause trouble...scratch that, we won't cause too much trouble, very often. And you know what? Your definition of trouble is usually most people's definition of fun so, like, it's not our fault you're old and boring."
It was Fearvels turn to laugh then, long and hard.
AN: Inspired by my own love of springtime and making maple syrup. I hope you enjoyed it! As always, still taking requests and working on the ones I have already received. Take care, everyone!