Fire
(winter)
Four days later, they had resumed speaking briefly about mundane things. They rode abreast, shooting rabbits from the saddle, the left-hand rider shooting rabbits seen on the left, and right-hand on the right. Before long, they were sighting rabbits for each other. The casual hunt became a contest once they realised that the cold weather would keep the meat indefinitely. They were up to Sindo, nine rabbits, and Noldo, eleven, when the ice finally broke, and they laughed together.
That night Sindo roasted many rabbits, and dinner flowed into supper seamlessly, and they ate rabbit until they could hardly look at it anymore.
"We could use some herbs, or something," Sindo said.
"Potatoes," said Noldo brightly, "and greens-- kale. Remember that late Kale mother had us plant?"
Their eyes met, and they both wished that they were riding northward, home, instead of westward. Suddenly Archer snorted, and Hunter shied.
"You'll have a hard time finding potatoes here," said a voice, and they both jumped to their feet despite their painfully full stomachs. "But your fire is easy to find."
A tall shadow stood in the snow at the edge of the firelight. "Who are you?" said Noldo, drawing his hunting knife. Sindo, with one hand on his knife hilt, probed for thoughts. He sensed a normal mind, neither open nor closed, simply there, and unaware of Sindo's inquisitive probings and attention. Then it couldn't be an elf, Sindo thought. Sindo's fears faded as Noldo's intensified.
The tall shadow stepped forward into the firelight. "I am a wanderer in these wilds. You are a long way from any hobbit settlement, and the winter is growing cold."
"Who are you?" Noldo repeated.
"My name is not important. I scout these lands in the service of the king; some call us scouts, or rangers. You may call me Ranger."
He was very tall, Noldo thought, and regal, but not beautiful. Noldo did not think he was an elf, but he was leaving nothing to chance today. "Ranger, are you an elf, or a man?"
"I am a man. And now who are you, and why are you traveling here?"
Sindo kept his mouth shut tight, and his worries grew again. But he let Noldo do the speaking, as was his right, being the eldest.
"We are hobbits, from the Langwell River, and we are looking for elves," Noldo replied. "Do you know where we can find any?"
Ranger laughed. "You have come a long way. Perhaps if you tell me why you are looking for elves, I might be better able to counsel you," he smiled, not unkindly.
Noldo looked at Sindo, perplexed. He had not thought this far. How much should he tell the man? "We are trying to find a settlement of elves," he said, cautiously. He did not want to declare his parents' location or that they were alone.
"Ah. A settlement. Those are hard to find."
"Why?"
"Well, I know of four. Lothlorien, and Rhovanion, or Mirkwood, you may be familiar with. I am not sure why you didn't look there first, rather than crossing the Misty Mountains?"
"That was not the path fortune gave us," Noldo replied, shortly. "You said four settlements. What are the other two?"
"Imladris is one, and Mithlond is another," the man replied. "Imladris is eastward, and difficult to find. Mithlond is westward, and not so difficult; find the river and follow it, and you will find Mithlond."
"What river, and where should we look for it?" Noldo asked, his voice softening a little.
"Look to the West. The river is named Lune, and it leads west to the sea. Follow the river and you will find Mithlond."
Noldo slowly set it sink in. Go west; find the river Lune; follow it westward to the sea; and there will be Mithlond. It sounded simple, all right. But there was a more pressing question, to Noldo's mind. The man had said they were far from any hobbit settlements. Did that mean he knew where there were some?
"Do you know where there are any hobbit settlements?" Noldo asked.
"The King of Cardolan has granted several settlements well south and slightly east of here, along the Bruinien and the Hoarwell rivers," Ranger replied, now watching him closely.
Slowly, the point of Noldo's blade dropped, sagging, and relief flooded his body, and he whispered "Thank you." The ranger watched. Noldo’s relief washed over him in waves, and he turned aside, muttering, "thank you," torn between laughter and amazement. He sheathed his blade and paced, rubbing his face and scratching his fingertips through his hair. Sindo stood still, watching, his own hand still on his knife hilt.
Ranger, bemusedly watching, smiled a little. At length Noldo turned back to him.
"I'm sorry, I'm a bit-- I am glad to hear of the settlements. Would-- would you like some cooked rabbit?" Noldo managed to say, stuttering, and Sindo approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Perhaps your road has been too long," Ranger observed, "and the news of a settlement is glad tidings to you."
Noldo choked, and nodded. Ranger took off his pack, and set it down in the circle of firelight. "I cannot find you any potatoes or Kale," he said, "but there is a stream not far from here, with a sorrel patch and some wild sage nearby, that might improve your meals tomorrow."
Sindo smiled. "Thank you very much."
"Would you like to find it tonight or tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow will be fine."
Ranger happily ate plenty of rabbit, and the hobbits were not sorry to see it go. Then they sat with him by the fire, and plied him with questions about the hobbit settlements they were hoping to find. He told them all he knew, that the rivers grew wider as they went south, and that the hobbits dwelt in holes along the riverbanks and the surrounding hillsides, tilling the land and fishing from the rivers, and not hunting much. He said there had been many travelers coming down the rivers of late to join the settlements.
Sindo almost began to hope that they could all go to the hobbit settlements together, but after Noldo had learned all he could and thanked Ranger, he had him review Mithlond again. Go west and find the river Lune; follow the river westward to the Elf settlement by the sea. It sounded simple enough.
Ranger stayed with them near the fire, and the next morning he led them to the stream and they collected plenty of sorrel and sage, knocking the powdery snow easily away. They thanked Ranger again and offered him some more rabbits to take with him.
"Aren't you going west?" he replied, puzzled. "I am returning to Amon Sul; we could travel together ‘til then."
"Thank you," Noldo replied, "but because of your news, our road now lies north."
Ranger laughed and shook his head. "Your road is your business," he laughed, "and I will not pry. But have a care; the Ettenmoors and the wilderness south of them are no place for unwary travelers. Travel by day, and mind that your fire is well hidden at night!"
"Ettenmoors?"
"The mountain range north of here, jutting out from the Misty Mountains. Trolls haunt that range, and the wilderness below."
Noldo and Sindo exchanged glances. "We had no trouble," they said, looking at Ranger oddly.
"How long did you spend in the Ettenmoors?" Ranger asked.
"Over a year, " Noldo replied.
Ranger frowned, pondering, and the hobbits could see that he was very puzzled and concerned. "Either you were extremely fortunate, or the trolls do not relish the taste of hobbit; or much more likely, some larger fear has driven the trolls away. And if something has driven the trolls away, you have the more need for caution. I do not wish to learn of your demise, or find your bones in some reeking cave." A somber sense of foreboding seemed to come over him.
"What could be worse than a troll?" Sindo murmured, and Ranger met his eyes in grim silence. Sindo did not like to think about it. Noldo thought of the Grey Mountains, with its blasted, desolate heaths haunted by wyrms and worse, and hoped that nothing from there would cross the high ranges of the Misty Mountains.
With an effort, Ranger shook the foreboding off, and cheered somewhat. "Take care, and be wary. Farewell! May we meet again where there is warmth and good cheer!"
"Farewell, and thank you!" the hobbits said, bowing.
They rode north, and soon Ranger's somber warning ceased to trouble them, and they thought instead of the earlier discussions. They began whistling and singing, greatly cheered; Noldo by the news of the settlements, Sindo by the thought of seeing Lorien again, both of them at the thought of seeing Doldo and Mallie. Noldo wanted to see Lorien too, in a brotherly sort of way, he thought. The reports of the Hobbit settlements had re-awoken all his old dreams and plans, and Lorien's love for him held little appeal; he dreamed of gentle brown eyes and soft rosy cheeks and long, shining brown curls as he rode. Lily still reigned in his heart.
Two weeks they rode, and the Ettenmoors came into sight. That cheered them further, and they began pushing their ponies harder across the snowy ground. They were more tired at night, and slept better than they had since the trip began.
They shot a young buck early in the morning, and when they camped that night, they build a fire in a hollow out of sight. Sindo was roasting a deer haunch over the fire, tending it, when suddenly Noldo heard a gasp. Sindo dropped the haunch into the fire, but made no effort to retrieve it. He stared glassy-eyed into the fire.
"Sindo."
Nothing.
"Sindo!" Noldo reached forward, snatched the haunch and tossed it into the snow beside the fire.
Sindo's lips moved.
"What is it?"
Noldo heard a sharp intake of breath, and then Sindo cried aloud. "Don’t go near it!" Sindo stood, panic rising in him. "No, Lorien, stay in the woods!!"
"What? Sindo, tell me!"
"No!! Mother, no, no!!" Sinda stood frozen, every muscle taught, sweating, weeping, eyes wild, and kept screaming. Noldo dove into his thoughts.
Lorien was there, panic-stricken and hysterical, and between her terror and Sindo's anguish Noldo couldn't sort it out, but he could grasp that something was terribly wrong with Mother. He seized Sindo by his shoulders and said "Show me!"
Sobbing, Sindo did. At first Noldo couldn't believe what he saw. All the heather around their hill, their home, was burning. The roof and door in front of their hole was pouring out thick black smoke. The ponies, some with burning manes and tails, were neighing and galloping in a panic around the hill, vainly seeking the only safety they knew in the midst of the fire.
In front of the doorway, ignoring his own burning clothes and the burning heather around his feet and legs, Doldo stood. His hunting knife raised, he howled defiance and rage, protecting the charred and unmoving body of his wife. Over him towered something Noldo had never seen, but knew at once. This was no goblin, no troll. Dominating the hillside and glowing reddish in the firelight, the dragon glared down at the tiny hobbit. Doldo lunged at him with his puny knife, and the dragon responded with flame; then one sweep of the lizard's huge tail sent Doldo flying through the air. The dragon seized him as he fell and shook him as a cat shakes a mouse, and then dropped him; the flames engulfed Doldo's body, and he did not move again. The dragon launched himself and killed the ponies one by one. Then the dragon returned to Doldo's still body and landed.
Then he heard Lorien sobbing; and he realized she was calling them both, in fear and terror and confusion. He could see the hillside still in flames, with several dead ponies, and the unmoving body of his mother, and the dragon bent over the still body of his father. As he watched in horror, the dragon launched himself, snatched up the bodies of his father and mother, turned, and flew northeast. They watched numbly as the dragon swiftly receded into the distance and disappeared.
Slowly he realised Lorien was at the edge of the woods. She did not know what to do, and was rooted to the ground in terror with her pony's reins in her hand, on the verge of panic.
"Ride southwest," he told her. "Mother and Dad are gone. There's nothing you can do to bring them back. And the dragon may return for the dead ponies. Ride southwest, towards us. We will come and meet you. Hurry."
She stirred, and still weeping and shaking, led her pony into the woods, watching fearfully behind her. She led the pony into the woods over the first hill, mounted, and galloped southwest.
Noldo and Sindo stood shaking, and together they wondered what to do. If they had been able to go back and bury their parents they would have done so, but they were gone. The hillside was in flames; they both thought the hole had been thoroughly burned out. With the odd clarity that sometimes happens in such moments, Noldo realised that the black smoke pouring out of the hobbit hole was probably from the winter stores of potatoes and roots, burning. The only pony left alive was being ridden south by Lorien. There was nothing left for them to return to.
As if in a dream, they quenched the fire by dumping snow on it. Noldo absently packed the deer haunch away, they mounted, and without speaking, they rode hard northward.
*******
Noldo and Sindo rode as far apart as they could and still see each other, in the hopes that they would not miss Lorien. They rode hard and stopped late at night only when they could ride, and the ponies could stumble, no further.
Sindo stayed in contact with Lorien, and Noldo often checked in. In two days they found her. She was ravenous, terrified and in shock, but she had ridden hard and kept her course. Noldo was proud of her. Sindo clung to her, and buried his face in her hair. Noldo did not separate them.
They camped in a small wood, where there were still leaves clinging to a copse of old oaks, and built a fire under that. Lorien, once having found the two brothers and realised she was safe, descended the rest of the way into real shock, and was soon shaking and glassy-eyed and all but limp. She was horribly cold. They made the fire as hot as they dared, and Noldo held her carefully near the fire while Sindo cooked some venison and some rabbit. Sindo worried that she would be too upset to eat. Noldo was sure of it. They melted water in their metal cups and poured it down her throat; at least she swallowed that.
"Sindo, can you help her?" Noldo asked.
"I'm not sure what you mean," Sindo said.
"The way you used to when I was too upset to sleep. Find her some pleasant memories to think about, or something."
Sindo considered that. "You weren't as upset as she is now. And Noldo, I'm pretty upset myself. I might just make it worse."
"You? Are you?"
Sindo nodded, looking down.
Noldo shrugged. "Should I try?"
"Be careful, Noldo."
"We've got to try something."
Sindo approached him and knelt in front of him. "I'm not so sure that now is a good time. Wait. Just hold her. Be patient."
"I don't understand, Sindo. Explain what you are thinking to me."
Sindo considered his response. "When we found her-- after the last fire-- she reached out to us when she was ready. She came around to us, not the other way around. She will again. I think the second fire reminded her of the first, when she lost her own parents. She's lost another set of parents now. Wait. Give her time."
Noldo accepted that. "How about you? Are you all right?"
Sindo shook his head. "No, Noldo, I'm not. I've lost my Dad and my Mother. I'm not all right at all."
"We haven't had time, have we?" Noldo mused, his heart aching for his brother. "We've been so focused on finding Lorien."
"No, we haven't," Sindo replied.
"Stay with me," Noldo said. "Stay with me, Sindo."
"I will, Noldo," Sindo reassured him. "I will." But he seemed absentminded. He busied himself with the fire and the meat, and Noldo thought about the girl in his arms.
She's seen too much fire, he thought. It's time she saw some safe, green fields, peaceful green forests, soothing blue rivers. It's time for her life to be peaceful. It's time for her to have a home. Mithlond, he reviewed. I wonder what it's like; I wonder what the people are like, and if she will be happy there.
The cups of snow had melted, and he waited ‘til they were quite warm to the touch, and then poured them down her throat, and filled them with snow again. Then he smoothed her hair, and tried to make her as comfortable as he could. They ate, and Noldo fed Lorien a fair amount of venison and rabbit; she ate mechanically and swallowed when he gave her sips of water. Occasionally she would lean against him and cry, but that would pass. As she warmed up, she grew drowsy, and soon slipped off to sleep.
Sindo took the first turn tending the fire and keeping watch. He looked after the ponies, and uncovered what grass he could find for them, which they ate hungrily. Noldo's pony was slightly lame, and Sindo used a rabbit skin to wrap snow around the swelling. He melted water for the ponies too when the hobbits were done drinking, lifting their heads by the bridles and pouring the water into the corner of their mouths as best he could; they coughed part of it out, but swallowed enough that he kept trying. Afterwards he washed the horse slobber off of the metal cups.
By then Noldo had fallen into a deep sleep still holding Lorien. Sindo watched them a few moments, and then brushed the hair out of his brother's eyes, and spoke very softly to him. "Idiot. You're holding a treasure, and you can't see her for what she is. Open your eyes."
Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. If he closed his eyes, he knew he would see the fires again. He paced and tended the fire all night, and let Noldo sleep.
*********
The Fairy Wife