CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SUMMARY: Rhian has been dreading her first session with Radagast. Let's see what happens…
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"Hard is trying to rebuild yourself, piece by piece, with no instruction book, and no clue as to where all the important bits are supposed to go."
― Nick Hornby, A Long Way Down
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City of Dale, 15th of May 2946 T.A.
Two years ago, Radagast was in his small house in south Mirkwood when a bird arrived with a message from his colleagues who happened to be visiting the Kings in Dale at the time:
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"My dear Radagast,
Elrond and I are enjoying our time here in the North. Thranduil and Bard are excellent hosts, and the New Dale, can be described as the New Improved Dale. The people are prospering in their new lives here, babies are being born every day, and the children are healthy and happy.
I have joyous news! I am almost certain your search is over, and I am delighted to tell you that we have found the One from the prophecy, the Twice-born daughter of the Star-Mother.
Just this morning, Elrond received a message from Erestor that confirms to us that Rhian, now daughter of Benjamin, and wife of Daeron Adamarion, is the woman to whom you have been waiting for.
She is a lovely young woman, newly married, and has absolutely no idea of her heritage or her fate, as of yet. Elrond and I plan to meet with her and Daeron in two days' time to gently give her the news, but I must warn you; the child has been badly hurt during her life in Laketown and from a very difficult birth of a son from her now-dead husband.
Her fëa is fragile, Radagast, and we must tread carefully. As you know, Rhian must enter in all this full-willing, or our hopes, all of the Valar's hopes for her will be dashed. And we do need her, my friend.
Elrond and I have discussed at length how to proceed with this, and we both feel that Rhian should be given time to adjust to this news. Had she been fortunate to grow up in difference circumstances, we would not need to be so cautious, but alas, that is beyond anyone's control, for Eru has granted all free peoples of Middle Earth exactly what the title says; freedom of choice, freedom of will, and freedom to determine one's own destiny.
For Rhian, adopted daughter of Benjamin, she is only now beginning to understand this freedom, and I think that if you come right away, she will see it as an attempt to take it away, and will reject our help.
I recommend you wait at least a year, Radagast, but you might also ask your woodland friends for regular reports on her progress. Based on that information, I have confidence that you will know when the time is right.
Until we meet again, I am
Your trusted friend,
Gandalf the Grey
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Rhian answered the soft knock at her door with what they both knew was a façade of confidence. Still, Radagast had to admire the girl for not letting fear stop her. "Good morning, My—"
"Now, we've talked about this, my dear." He stepped into the front hall. "Just call me Radagast; we are going to be friends, yes?"
"Radagast," she repeated, with a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry for being so jumpy."
"Of course, you are," he gave her a serene smile. "You are, as they say, 'waiting for the other shoe to drop?'"
"Maybe I am," Rhian admitted, and stepped aside to lead him into their sitting room. "Daeron has just taken our son to nursery school, and I made some sweet bread and some tea for us."
"That sounds wonderful," Radagast clapped his hands together merrily, then looked through the archway into the dining room, and beyond where the light shone through from the back garden. "May I request we take our refreshments outdoors? It's going to be a perfect day to explore!"
"I don't see why not, though I warn you; there isn't as much space to explore as I would like. My garden isn't nearly as big as the parks here."
"That doesn't matter at all, as you will soon see. Here, let me help." They went through to the dining room and, after placing the spread on trays, carried them out to the table and chairs on the terrace. Radagast gleefully accepted the tea
"Oh, my; you are a good cook," he said, rolling his eyes. "This is wonderful!"
"Thank you," she said modestly. "I don't get to bake as much as I'd like, between my job with Lady Hilda and looking after my family. We hired a wonderful girl named Silvi last December, and it's made life so much easier."
"I am sure. Where is she now?"
"Well, when she came to Dale with the Greta—the housekeeper at the Castle?"
"Ah. She is the wife of the Cook, yes?"
"That's right. She didn't know how to read or write, so while Darryn is at nursery school, she gets lessons from one of the teachers at the secondary school here. King Bard wanted to make sure that any adult in Dale who wishes to learn, would have the opportunity. Mostly, that teacher meets in the evenings, because of all the work to be done during the day, but she was willing to tutor Silvi a few times a week."
"That's very considerate."
"It is, and I'm glad for her. She's so bright, and…" Rhian shrugged. "She reminds me of when I first started. It was like a whole new world had opened up to me and I couldn't get enough." She could feel the smile lift her cheeks, but she couldn't help it; it was wonderful to see the same hunger in Silvi's eyes as she probably had.
"Bard showed me the building that will house Dale's library. I imagine you are excited about that."
"Oh, I am! Our cousin Turamarth—you know him, right?"
"I do." For a moment, Radagast was back at that clearing, north of Caras Galadhon, when Pallando was destroyed, and in the cave when his family hovered over the young Ellon, their faces ashen with fear. How he saw the condition Turamarth was in when they brought him out of the Healing House and loaded him onto the wagon for the return trip home. 1 "He is a delightful young Ellon."
"Well, he's getting married to an Elf from Lothlórien at the end of the summer, and when they come back, she'll be in charge of it." Rhian refilled Radagast's cup, then her own. "I can't wait. He lived her for a while Tur is more like a brother to Daeron than a cousin."
Radagast's bright blue eyes studied her. "Not just to Daeron, I expect."
"No," her mouth curled into an affectionate smile. "He's been there for me in ways not even Daeron could be. When I was a little girl, I wished I had a big brother to look out for me, and…" She stopped herself as her gaze fell to her plate.
"Rhian, child. I know you had a difficult life."
Instantly her wide green eyes flew up to meet his, and he sensed the panic and—embarrassment?—in her heart.
"What I mean to say," Radagast raised both hands quickly, "is that I see faded shadows of sadness in your fëa." At her puzzled expression, he continued. "For you do indeed have a fëa, my dear; that is the gift you have been given. I do not know of your history, or any such thing, nor do I need to, do I?"
Rhian's mouth worked for a moment, then she nodded.
"Of course, I don't! Like I said, faded shadows. What that tells me is you are a courageous, determined very talented young woman. I can also see that your fëa, which has always been remarkable, helped you to seek solace and strength in green and growing things, did it not?"
She didn't know what to say, so he continued. "Can you tell me something?"
"Sure," she said, her voice as faded as her complexion.
"When you first came here, to this house, tell me what it was like to design and plant this lovely garden?"
Rhian opened her mouth and spoke, hesitantly at first, but then as she delved further into the subject, her entire body relaxed. Eventually, she shoved her crockery aside and, with her fingers drew invisible diagrams on the surface of the table to illustrate her process. The excitement in her voice increased, and her lovely face took on the glow that Gandalf had written to Radagast about twenty-two months ago.
Yes, she was indeed the One.
After a pause, Rhian blushed. "Look at me; I must be boring you to tears."
"On the contrary, child," Radagast gave her a serene smile. "I find all this intriguing. It's wonderful to meet someone with such a deep love for the natural world. I imagine Daeron speaks fondly of his tree?"
"Mmmhmm," she nodded. "He told me that each Elf develops a relationship with a certain tree, and through it, they can listen and understand a great deal."
"True, true. Daeron's first tree is sleeping at the moment, but he tells me of a certain Oak west of the city that has become quite special to him. Have you ever seen it?"
"Oh, yes!" She smiled. "After our honeymoon, he took me there. It was wonderful!"
"Rhian," he set both his feet on the ground, and leaned slightly toward her, "what if I were to tell you that your natural intuition is equal to that of the Silvans?"
Her face grew pinched. "I… don't know about that."
"Well, what if I show you?" His eyes drifted toward the large maple in the back corner. "When you see that tree, what do you think of?"
"Wh—"
"Just relax, and look at the tree, and tell me what goes through your mind. Can you do that for me?"
Rhian took a deep breath, let it out through her nose, and let her lovely emerald eyes rest on the thick trunk, then move upward along the wide limbs into the full green leaves. "I love it, I suppose. Sometimes when I'm out here, I find myself leaning against the trunk. It helps me think, I guess. I love to watch it in spring, when all the leaves come out, but in the fall, when it's getting ready for winter, the leaves turn such beautiful shades of gold and red… It takes my breath away. The first year I saw it, I cried, it was so beautiful." She laughed softly. "It's strange, I guess, but I was so happy."
"It isn't strange at all," Radagast reached over and patted her hand. "He's your tree, Rhian. And he loves you."
Her mouth softened and opened slightly, as she blinked. "You mean like Daeron?"
"Have you ever tried to talk to it, the same way Daeron speaks to his Oak?"
She shook her head. "I never thought of it."
"Would you go to it now? Just for a moment, my dear."
"If you'll come with me."
"Of course I will." And together they got up and strode slowly down the winding stone path, then over the patch of green grass until they reached its trunk. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"Nervous, I guess."
"If you get too uncomfortable, we will stop. I promised I wouldn't push you beyond your limits and I meant that. I only want you to place your hands on the trunk, close your eyes and try to quite your mind. Just for a few minutes? And I will do the same beside you."
They did so, and within moments, the Brown Wizard could feel the depth of affection the Galacaron held for this young woman. The tree sensed her hesitation and sent reassurance and comfort.
The tree asked him a direct question. Is she the One?
Yes, he answered, but do not tell her; she must discover her powers in her own time.
Radagast opened his eyes to see Rhian's face glow with astonished joy, as a tear fell from her left eye. The Wizard carefully lifted his hands away from the bark and stepped back. He could have watched the rapture on her face for hours, but after twenty minutes or so, he gently placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Rhian," he murmured, so as not to startle her.
The girl reluctantly pulled her hands away and wiped her eyes with an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry about that." She turned to him, as realization came over her. "I was doing that by myself?"
"You were," he chuckled. "I only helped you get started, but the rest was all you." He raised his arm and gestured toward the table. "I think that's all we'll do for today. Shall we enjoy some more tea? I would love to have the recipe for that sweet bread, if you're willing to share it."
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Galacaron – "Red Tree" the large Maple tree in Rhian's back yard.
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NOTES:
1 Legolas, Ion nîn, Ch. 28: /works/17088320/chapters/45143632