Long Lost Leaves - part II

[Mari]

Ellysa smiled at the sight of the many tents and people before turning to her friends. "These tentcamps remind me of home. For as far as I can see, these people have somewhat similar habits as we do. Though there are major differences of course. Is anyone interested in a little sparring game?"

[Earniel]

Over the course of the day, a few more tribes arrived and the tent-camp swelled in numbers still. In the evening, many lanterns were lit and people gathered at the edge of the camp, on a large field. People stood or sat at both sides of a large, comfortable tent in which the Khagan and the Khans had taken place on cushy pillows. Their wives were gathered in the back of the tent.

The Khagan was immediately recognisable in among the Khans. His attire was richer, and his attitude spoke of someone who found it natural that everyone obeyed him. He was not a tall man, or a very imposing figure, but his deep-set eyes were shrewd and cruel. This was not a man to cross lightly.

The Khagan motioned to one of the Khans, who rose and with a loud voice declared that first day of the Celebration had begun. The people cheered, and happily helped themselves to drink and food that were distributed on stalls.

The loud-voiced Khan went on, saying Khan Geruth of the Southern tribe had brought an interesting group of foreigners along, for the entertainment of the Ultai and their noble Khagan during the Celebration. This caused more cheering and applause. Many had already caught sight on the foreigners, and the Ents specifically. This might prove to become a Celebration to remember.

Radagast stepped forward. He had for the occassion donned a bandolier with home-made charms and tufts of plants. On his head, he wore a garland of ivy and bright-coloured fabric. He looked absolutely preposterous, but every bit the conjuror. His appearance caused quite a bit of merriment among the Ultai crowd. Radagast took little notice of it, he was after all pretending to be a bonafide entertainer and he intended to play the part in full.

His first trick was to call birds down from the sky and he gave them flowers with the command to distribute these to the lovely ladies in the Khagan's tent. The birds did so immediately, and the women in the tent took the flowers with plenty a supressed giggle. Then the wizard had the birds fly in patterns around the open area. The people looked on in astonishment. They had seen bird-tamers before, but these birds performed stunts they had never seen before.

His next trick was call forth six dogs from the camp. Radagast explained to the crowd that he could talk to these fine animals and that he could learn the name of their owner from them. This was met with disbelief and laughter. But soon, Radagast called one owner after another onto the field, and they all had to admit, it indeed was their dog. The wizard then asked the dog questions about their owners, which each answered with a bark. Radagast than translated the answer for the crowd, and asked the six men before him for comment. The crowd now were roaring with laughter at seeing the surprised, and somewhat uncomfortable looks of the dog-owners.

With the help of his animal friends Radagast entertained the Ultai for several hours before resorting to his last trick. He bade his public not to be alarmed. Then there was a sudden burst of bright fire on the spot where Radagast stood, the wizard himself was gone. Two firy arrows streaked into the sky, trailing smoke until their broke apart with a loud bang into a shower of colourful sparks. The crowd went wild.

Radagast appeared into the camp of the adventurers again, panting for having had to run. "Gandalf's fireworks," he explained to his fellow-travellers. "He was always very good at it, and I always wanted to try my hand at them myself. Now was the perfect opportunity." He added brightly.

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl did not watch Radagast's display, preferring to remain back at the camp. The gathering of the Ultai tribes made her uncomfortable, although she was not quite sure why. Perhaps it was only that a similar event, among her own people, could never have ended peaceably.

She was followed by Ultai children whenever she ventured closer to the gathering, although she did her best to appear unapproachable. She did not suppose they had ever seen a Kindi m'had'i before, but they were accustomed enough to the presence of warriors among their own people that they had no fear of her for that. Tabrîl ignored them, for the most part, but on occasion, when she thought no others of their company were near, she would stop, the beginnings of a smile on her lips, and place her hand on the head of one child or another, and speak gently in the Kindi language to them.

There were no children among the Kindi any longer. Tabrîl supposed even the ka'marein thought this was no longer a world fit to raise a child in.

She sat alone now, as was usual for her, watching the lights of the gathering in the distance, and wondering what her companions were doing to entertain the foreign mortals. They truly were a strange group, their very presence was likely entertainment enough.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel watched Radagast doing his tricks, having planned that she should be next. She enjoyed seeing him speak to the animals. It gave her an idea, and quietly, not to draw the attention away from the entertainer, she called out - in the birds' language - a few stuttering words, "Bird - speak - Elf-language?"

For a while nothing happened. She tried again. This time, a small sparrow flew over to her and sat down on the ground next to her, looking up at her.

"You speak our language?" it twittered.

Barufiniel shook her head. "Not much," she twittered back.

"Oh -," the sparrow seemed confused, then suddenly understood, "you understand us, but you need someone who can understand you?"

"Yes," Barufiniel answered, pleased not to have to say any more in the language she could understand well, but couldn't speak much. The sparrow disappeared, and came back a few minutes later, followed by a starling. Barufiniel hurriedly explained to the starling that she didn't need him to speak to her right there, but could he help her a little later? The starling listened to her explaining her proposal in full, and finally nodded its head.

"I can do that," he said, still in the birds' language, "and we should get a good reception for it."

That settled, they went back to watching Radagast, and the starling made sure to stay close to the Elf.

Barufiniel was surprised to see the wizard disappear. She was reminded of what Bilbo had told her about his last birthday party in the Shire, when he had disappeared with the help of the Ring ... she hoped that Radagast didn't have another ring which he hadn't told anyone about. Hopefully he had only used the confusion of the fireworks to run off.

When the clamour had calmed down and people seemed to be looking for new entertainment, she stepped forward.

"Perhaps now would be the time for some music?" she suggested, loud enough for everyone in the tent to hear.

First people were just staring wide-eyed at her - and at her ears - as if they had never seen an Elf before. Barufiniel guessed that most of them hadn't. Then there were tentative cheers and some clapping of hands - not half as much as for the conjuror, but enough that Barufiniel knew that she could go ahead, especially since the Khagan nodded to her and clapped his hands, too. She lifted up her lyre.

"There will be music, then," she announced, "- and there will also be singing! My home is in a small valley called Rivendell, and first of all I'll sing you a couple of songs about that valley."

Accompanying herself on the lyre, she sang one of the songs that Bilbo had heard that evening long ago when he came to Rivendell for the first time.

"O! What are you doing,
And where are you going?
Your ponies need shoeing!
The river is flowing!
O! tra-la-la-lally
here down in the valley!

O! What are you seeking,
And where are you making?
The faggots are reeking,
The bannocks are baking!
O! tril-lil-lil-lolly
the valley is jolly,
ha! ha!"

It was a merry song, and to Barufiniel's satisfaction, the cheering after it was louder than it had been before the song. She sang another merry song, and then announced that for her next song, she would have another singer join her. She whistled the signal they had agreed on, and the starling came and perched himself on her lyre.

"My friend," she asked loudly in the Common Tongue, "do you know some of my songs?"

The bird nodded a few times, and the audience cheered - would there be more animals' tricks, perhaps?

"Do you know the song 'Yavanna gave names to all the little birds'?" Baru asked, and the bird nodded again.

"Join me, then," Baru said, and began singing.

To her surprise, a few voices in the audience joined in as well. The words were not those that she used - they were of a language she didn't know - but the tune was obviously known to them.

The song - a children's song, really - was about Yavanna creating the birds, naming them all. Each verse of the song would describe a bird and end with giving its name - and then imitate the song of the bird as a kind of chorus. As they had planned, the starling did the imitation of the other birds - Baru could do a recognizable imitation herself, but the starling was perfect. And the reception from the audience was everything she could have been hoping for. The starling flew away, making his way towards the camp where Baru had promised to meet him afterwards.

The success made the Elf risk another experiment.

"It seems that we know some of the same tunes," she said. "Please sing the beginning of some tunes to me, and if I know them, I'll sing the songs in my language."

There was a moment of embarrassed silence, but then a woman in the middle of the tent piped up with a few notes which Barufiniel recognized as a children's song. She sang it, and this seemed to open up for the others. Many tunes were not known to her, but surprisingly many were at least a bit similar to songs that she knew. There was another children's song, then a sad children's song, then some more sad or sentimental songs. She sang her own songs, in Westron or Sindarin or Quenya, and the Ultai sang along in their own language.

Barufiniel wasn't quite sure how to announce that her voice would need a rest, when the end of her session announced itself. At the end of a very elaborate flourish, one of the strings of her lyre broke. A sigh of compassion went through the audience, and when Baru promised that she would be back for more singing later in the week, there were contented murmurs, and the applause was deafening.

Back in the company's camp, Barufiniel made sure to get some delicacies for the starling, who promised to stay around and listen for any further calls. Then she got out materials for making a new string for her lyre, and looked around for somewhere to sit and work on it.

Tabril was sitting by herself, sharpening a knife - as usual, Baru thought. I wonder what will be left of that knife in the end, when she's sharpening it all the time? I don't think I should ask her, though. Perhaps it isn't even the same knife every time.

Barufiniel went over to Tabril.

"May I sit with you?" she asked in Sindarin. "I need to do some work - I have to make a new string."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl looked up, startled, as she was addressed. The newest elf, Barufiniel, stood before her, and that was strange enough in itself. They had not spoken more than a few words since her joining of the company. And to ask to sit with Tabrîl, as if her company might be pleasing? It puzzled her. She could not think of anything Barufiniel might wish to speak with her about.

Even so, Tabrîl thought then, she has asked. It is courtesy enough.

'You may sit here,' she said quietly, in Sindarin, and she tilted her head slightly to look at the instrument Baru carried. It was a kithir, she realized. Oddly misshapen, as if it had been crafted by a very young elf trying to learn how they were made - but a kithir nonetheless, and the familiarity of it eased Tabrîl's tensions somewhat.

'Do you know how to mend it?' she asked as Baru sat. It was possible she did not, if the example of her carving was anything to go by, but Tabrîl's question was not unkindly meant. Perhaps the elf merely came to ask her help with the string, and if that was so, Tabrîl would give it.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel was about to say that she was perfectly capable of mending it - but she realised in time that this would be to miss a good opportunity. Two good ones, actually. Asking for help might be a good way to approach the enigmatic Avarin Elf, which was Baru's real reason for joining her - and of course learning something new was always a good thing.

"I know one way of mending it, one technique," she answered, "but perhaps you know some better techniques? I believe you've got more experience than I have - I'm only eight hundred years old. And the lyre will be used a lot over this week - the string broke right now, when I was about to finish my performance, and I need to be able to trust it next time I perform. We must seem to be professional entertainers."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl was silent for a long moment, deep in thought and uncertain of what to say. She did not think it was right for her to offer suggestions to this elf, whom she did not know. Likely it would be perceived as discourteous. Yet Radagast himself had stressed the importance of the ruse the rest of the group were trying to maintain, and she was not about to question his judgement.

'Eight hundred,' she said slowly. 'It is young in the reckoning of your people, yes?' Tabrîl did not know her own age. She had asked, once, long ago, and had been told it was not important for her to know, and in any case, the dating system used by the Eldar and Atani of modern times could not apply to one born before the sun first rose. Her curiosity about the subject had soon faded.

'I need not show you how the string is mended,' she continued, 'if you already have knowledge of a technique. But-' she looked down at the knife in her hand for a moment, and then back up at Barufiniel, 'I do not say this to offend, but if you truly wish to pass as an entertainer...'

Tabrîl reached over, ran her hand along the outer edge of the lyre. 'The curve of the wood is wrong, to begin with,' she said plainly, 'it ought to be shallower. And you have made the kithir too small, that is why you were unable to attach the correct amount of strings, and so your range of notes will be limited. It is good,' she added, almost as if she were attempting reassurance, 'for a first attempt, but I am not certain that it will pass as you need it to.'

She was going to regret this, Tabrîl thought instantly. Barufiniel was going to ask her to help craft a proper kithir, she was sure of it. She should not have said anything to her. It wasn't as if it mattered to Tabrîl what the Ultai thought of the other elf.

Yet she had spoken, and the words could not be unsaid. She looked away again, returned to the sharpening of the knife that she held.

[feawen]

Nami had never throught of her self as an entertainer, she could not sing very well, she could tell stories she guessed but she did not think these people would really understand them. She had puzzled over what she could add to the group. From their first appearence in the large camp the mottle group had drawn crowds to them, mostly children. It had been while Nami had been watching some of the tents being put up that she had had her big idea.
Digging around in her pack later that day she found what she was looking for. Slinging it over her shoulder she strode off in search of a suitable place. Nodding to Tabril and Barufiniel as she past them. As she got further in to the collection of tents, a crowd of interested children and a couple of adults followed her, wondering what that bright eyed, pointie eared woman was going to do with that rope.

[Varnafindë]

"My people reckons eight hundred as young, yes," Barufiniel said, "my father was more than six thousand years old when he left. My great-grand-aunt, Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood, was even older - but she was born before the Coming of the Sun, and they reckoned time differently then."

Why wouldn't Tabril teach her a new technique, she thought. Of course she didn't strictly need to, when Baru could use her own, but even so ... She tried to think what the reaction of the M'nak people might have been in a similar situation. Perhaps there were secret techniques that only the instrument makers were allowed to learn - or at least only members of their own people.

"I accept that you don't need to teach me anything," she said. "I had hoped that you could come up with some better suggestions, though. I like learning new skills - my people have always been eager for such. But if I have asked for something that you shouldn't teach to those outside of your own people, then I apologize. I don't know what would be reckoned as secret knowledge to you."

Hesitatingly, she looked at her lyre. Wrong shape - and not the correct amount of strings?

"I appreciate your concern as to whether my lyre would pass, and I'm not offended," she said, trying a small smile. "But I think it passes as a lyre. If your kithir has a different number of strings, then I believe it is a different instrument - one which I would also be interested to learn more about. But not this week when I'm busy with the Ultai. If it is something you are allowed to teach me, perhaps we could look into it after the Celebration? A small instrument with a greater range of notes is a good idea."

[Aikanáro]

If Tabrîl didn't know better, she could have almost believed this Barufiniel to be a young m'had'i. It was proof, she supposed, that she had spent far too much time among these strange and unpredictable people, that she warmed to the slightest amount of behavior that seemed understandable to her. Barufiniel's quickness to mention her kinship to the in'kasha Galadriel, for instance, and the care she was taking not to offend Tabrîl herself. To the point of over-caution, in fact.

It pleased the Kindi elf, and while her posture remained unchanged, her tone grew softer. 'Do not apologize, itêyen,' she said, 'for you have not offended to ask. The crafting of instruments is not a secret, not among the Kindi. It simply seems to me unnecessary to teach you that which you already know. Particularly,' and there was the very slightest trace of humor in her voice, 'if that which you are repairing is not a kithir at all.'

Tabrîl's mistake had come as a surprise to her, but also as a relief. It would have been a poorly-made kithir indeed, if that was what it had been. Knowing that it was not this, but something foreign, a lyre, akin to a kithir but still utterly different from it, she had more faith in Barufiniel's ability to play it well.

'It also would appear,' she continued, 'that to carry an instrument on a quest such as this is a needless burden. They are better kept to the halls where they can be played by those with light hearts.' Tabrîl could make a kithir. She could even, if the inclination struck her, play one. Yet this was neither the time nor the place to do such things, and she did not see why Barufiniel asked it of her.

Tabrîl thought for a moment longer over what had been said, before realizing that there was something that in former times would have been her duty to tell Barufiniel. She did not know if the old ways still applied among these other elves, but it was custom, and so, no matter the strangeness of their circumstance, she would follow it.

'You must send regard to your kinswoman,the Lady Galadriel' she told the younger elf, 'from my Mother, Khaisel il'Tathilei il'Lildië, in'kasha of the Kindi.' It would also have been custom for Tabrîl herself to greet Barufiniel's nearer kin, but she said that her father had left, that could only be a way of saying he had passed to the Dark, and so that subject she would not broach.

[Varnafindë]

"Thank you, I will send her regard at the earliest opportunity," Barufiniel answered. There would be more ships going to the West, she expected. Many Elves of Rivendell were thinking of leaving, and would do so over the next few years.

What had Tabril called her? Itêyen? Judging from Tabril's tone, it seemed to be a friendly term. It would have been interesting to try to learn some of her language - Baru was a Noldo, after all - but it was probably not the right time to ask such a thing. Not yet. But Baru was relieved that she had not caused offence.

"And I see your point about burdens on a quest like this," she admitted, a bit embarrassed. "I like to carry my lyre with me at all times, though - I find that it can lighten both my own heart and those of others. But you are right that this is not the time for adding another burden. I was being a bit over-enthusiastic."

She smiled, still a little embarrassed.

"But the reason I ask for more techniques, is that I'm not sure my own is good enough," she said. "I hadn't expected the string to break yet. I use the same technique for the lyre-string as for my bow-string, but perhaps it is better suited for the stronger materials for the bow-string. Or perhaps the lyre-string material was poor quality."

She sighed.

"I'd rather not have to do this every night while we're here."

[Aikanáro]

'Then you need not,' Tabrîl replied perfunctorily, as if the answer to Barufiniel's concern was immediately obvious. 'You need not play for them each night.' Tabrîl wondered why she would feel the need to, as if it were more to her than a nuisance to be endured until they had left Ultai territory. It puzzled her.

'If your lyre is important enough to you that you will carry it, you ought to take care of it, and this means not subjecting it to overuse.' Her tone now was almost lecturing, as if Baru truly ought to know better. 'And if your ability with that bow is any indication of your knowledge, it is not your technique that is at fault.'

'Barufiniel-' she said the name carefully, trying to be sure of the pronunciation, 'if it should please you, mend it here and now, and I shall observe it. In all likelihood, it will be well. If it should break again when you play, then I shall show you another way.'

There, again she was putting herself forward as a teacher. It was unwise, Tabrîl knew, especially after her earlier attempts with Nami had failed so utterly, but she was driven to it nonetheless. Even as she had taught the young ones of her own hall in years past. Even as she had followed her brother Keshai in teaching those other children, those Aftercomers, so long ago. It was part of her now, she supposed, as it was part of any m'had'i who had lived far longer than she ought to.

[Varnafindë]

"So you don't think Radagast will require it each night?" Barufiniel asked. "I didn't promise them anything, I just said I would be back later in the week. You are right that I should beware of overusing it."

She hadn't talked to Radagast about how much she would be needed. But it would make sense to him, too, not to overuse her instrument - or her voice, for that matter. He would probably agree with Tabril.

"I very much like singing, though," she added, "even more than playing. I found that we had some tunes in common, and then I had them sing along with me - in their own language, of course. I really enjoyed it."

So Tabril didn't think that her technique was wrong? 'Your ability with that bow' - it was very close to some kind of praise, and Baru sensed that Tabril didn't give her praise lightly. The other Elf's pronunciation of her name was close to perfect - with a charming little deviation.

"I will mend the string now, then," Baru said, "while you observe my technique. Thank you. It's nice to have company while working."

She removed the broken string and untwisted it to see whether any part of it could be reused. Then she took what she would use and set to work. She changed her position a little to make it easier for Tabril to watch her.

[me9996]

Ferris muttered to himself "Elves live thousands of years and chatter like beavers every year of their lives"

[Aikanáro]

'You must, of course, do whatever Radagast requires of you,' said Tabrîl at once, a little disconcerted by the thought that she might have unwittingly contradicted the seth'enati.

She fell silent then, knowing that Barufiniel would need to concentrate on her task, and idle chatter in such a situation would be impolite. One of the mortals stared at them, and muttered something under his breath, and Tabrîl frowned deeply. It was a reminder to her of the constant underlying hostility she faced, petty though it was.

As she watched the other elf at work, Tabrîl thought over her words again. She liked to sing, she said, and doubtless she had heard the songs and chants that Tabrîl sang softly in her own language as they travelled, confident in the knowledge that none save Abasi would understand their meaning. They were the history and the m'had-lore of her people, and she would not risk forgetting them simply because she was separated from her kin. Even so, she felt an unease now, concerned that Baru would seek to question her on the subject.

She put it from mind, however, and returned her attention to the matter of the broken string, which Barufiniel had removed from the lyre. She appeared to know what she was doing, Tabrîl thought, and she wondered why the younger elf so lacked confidence in her own ability.

[Varnafindë]

Barufiniel worked quietly on her string until she was satisfied with it. She put in on the lyre and tested it, and it seemed to be fine.

"There!" she said. "And perhaps it's nothing to do with the technique after all. I just thought about this probably being a drier climate - it could be doing the string more brittle. In that case I just have to be careful not to use too much strength on it."

She smiled, happy to have her lyre working again.

"Do you like music as well?" she asked. "Do you play - when you're not on a quest? I've heard you sing, but I don't understand any of your language. And I've never heard you use any tunes that are the same as any tunes that I know."

[Aikanáro]

Tabrîl watched, and nodded in approval as Barufiniel finished. Her technique was sound, and it was very likely the string would hold.

To her next questions, however, Tabrîl did not know how to answer, for she did not know how much to say. If one of the others had asked, she would simply have told them her songs were not their concern. Yet Barufiniel, unlike most of the others in the company, had done nothing to offend her, and her company, Tabrîl supposed, was not entirely displeasing.

'I know how to play,' she said at last, 'and I do so tolerably well, although I have no great talent for it. I am unsurprised that you do not understand my songs, and that you have never heard them. They are Kindi. They tell of the history and traditions of my people, and I sing so that I will not forget any of them.' The songs sounded far better in her hall, she thought, with some to sing and others to play, but Tabrîl would do what she could to remember, and she did not care if her singing displeased any of the others. It reminded her of home.

'And I am not,' she said suddenly in irritation, 'on a quest. Unless the desire to return home is said to be a quest. Enchantments compel me to follow after these people, it is not by my own will that I am here.'

Tabrîl turned away from Barufiniel as she spoke, and the momentary anger that had flashed in her eyes turned swiftly to a look of deep shame. She presumed that one of the others would have told the new elf the story of her arrival, and although Tabrîl had come to accept her place among them, and no longer complained even to Haldis of the injustice of it, realizing that she had no other choice, she did not like to be reminded of the fact.

[Varnafindë]

"You're not - ?" Baru's eyes widened in surprise. "But - but - I thought you were part of our quest ..."

She stared at Tabril, not trying to hide her confusion.

"I know that you might not have got a letter," she tried, and, not feeling happy with her words, tried again, "I mean, I knew that not everyone on the quest joined it because of having been invited by the wizards - but I thought that everyone joined it because they wanted to join for some reason. You were compelled? Did you say 'enchantments'?"

[Aikanáro]

'I did,' Tabrîl answered simply. 'It is so.'

Barufiniel had not been told, then, and that made Tabrîl feel even more uncomfortable, for having revealed such a weakness without cause. Perhaps it was preferable, though, to having her think Tabrîl would wish to take part in a journey so ill-advised as this one.

'It is not for me to understand such things,' she continued, 'they are Mysteries. The seth'enati Radagast tells me there is some purpose in it, and so I must trust to that. Nonetheless, it grieves me to be so separated from my people.' This was the furthest Tabrîl had been from home in a very long time, and the furthest east she had been since Tathilei the Wise had led the last westward migrations, countless years ago.

[Varnafindë]

Oh no, Barufiniel thought. This could be part of the reason why Tabril didn't mingle much with the other members of the company. Even though not the only reason.

She was silent for a long while, not knowing what to say, as she realised that Tabril wouldn't give her any further explanation of what she considered Mysteries.

But Barufiniel wouldn't have expected it from a wizard. She didn't know Radagast, but she was fairly certain that Gandalf wouldn't have used enchantments to compel someone to join one of his missions. Unless that's what he did to Bilbo, causing him to run out of his hole without a handkerchief? But the Tookish side of Bilbo wanted to go, he didn't need to be chained to the quest with enchantments. It had been different.

Tabril would say that it wasn't Baru's place to question the wizard's decisions, and it probably wasn't. But she would be more cautious around Radagast after this.

There was some purpose, he had said. He needed Tabril for something, then. And why Tabril? Did the purpose have something to with her skills? Or perhaps with who she was?

"We need to fulfil our quest as soon as we can, then," Barufiniel said, "not only for the sake of the Ents, but also to be able to release you so you can go home to your people. You're a Princess, aren't you? When you're the daughter of the in'kasha? Perhaps that's part of the purpose - perhaps you're needed for something only a royal person can do."