still going...
Jun. 4th, 2005 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaydeefalls
The Jewels of the Sea, part 3/6
a Fourth Age hobbit fic
by kaydee falls
part 1. part 2
When asked, Tom would not remember exactly how they got the ship out of the harbor. He had never even been aboard a little river vessel, let alone a proper boat, and he was completely at a loss. He followed Ayer's orders in a sort of daze. There were a lot of ropes involved – ropes to be pulled, tied, untied and retied because Ayer didn't think his knots were strong enough. He was fairly sure the boat required some sort of direction that wasn't limited to pulling ropes, but if so, Ayer did that part.
What he did remember, with perfect clarity, was the moment the boat passed between the two cliffs, and the Sea opened up before them.
From the Towers, hobbits could see a great distance, and Tom had always been aware that the world was quite a big place. But nothing could have prepared him for the sheer vastness of the Sea. He'd always pictured it as he saw it from the Towers – a glittering line on the horizon. It was still that, but far more; it was everything up to the horizon, too, and stretched out in every direction. If the sky was vast and endless, then the Sea was even bigger, because it reflected the sky like an infinite mirror, or rather countless little mirrors sparkling with every wave and ripple. Middle-earth behind them seemed shadowy and insignificant beside that staggering expanse of water.
"Oh, glory," he whispered – and he couldn't know it, but the sense of pure, unadulterated awe that washed over him at that moment was quite precisely the same as had been experienced by his legendary ancestor, Samwise the Brave, when he encountered elves for the very first time.
"I know," Ayer murmured. But he didn't, not really; the Sea meant no more to Ayer than the means to an end. He would never experience that selfless wonder, for Ayer would never meet an elf, and he knew not how to fully appreciate the glories of the world without the guidance and example of the elves.
Tom was not fully aware of any of this, of course. But when he glanced over at Ayer, he felt a sudden, unexpected surge of pity, and did not know why.
*
The first day of the journey was a remarkably easy one. A fairly strong wind came up out of the east, and the white sails snatched it up. It was as though the ship were flying across the water, and by midday, the land behind them seemed no more than a memory.
"If I'd known boats were this simple to navigate, I'd have tried this much sooner," Tom laughed, lying stretched out along the deck. He would have liked to trail his hand in the water, but it was a bit too much of a reach down from the railings, and he did not want to topple out. Swimming was all well and good when it was in a bit of stream trickling out of the Lune, but the sea was somewhat deeper, and he realized that beneath the tempting sparkle, there were unknown and potentially dangerous currents and other such unfamiliar things. Fish, perhaps. Big fish.
Ayer smiled. "Well, we've got a good wind headed in the right direction, but not too strongly, and not a cloud in the sky. It wouldn't be so simple in other conditions."
Tom rolled over onto his stomach and propped his chin up in his hands. "How do you know anything about sailing, anyway? This is a far cry from the little river boats on the Lune or the Brandywine."
"It's not all that great a leap," Ayer said. "There's just a lot more water, and more emphasis on wind rather than currents. And I took this out for many little expeditions while I was building it, of course."
Tom sat straight up, appalled. "You took this thing out on open water all on your own? Ayer, you idiot, what if something had happened to you? No one would have known where to find you! You're the next bloody Warden of Westmarch, you've got...responsibilities!"
Ayer looked vaguely cross. "Well, I had to make sure it worked properly, didn't I? I could hardly get halfway to Valinor and then realize I'd built it wrong. And nothing did happen to me, so why fuss over it now?"
"You shouldn't be taking risks like that," Tom insisted. "The Warden—"
"If you think the title is so wonderful, why don't you take it?" Ayer snapped. "Until I marry and have kids, you're next in line. Yet here we are, the future Warden and his backup, floating about on the open sea all alone."
Tom leapt up. "Ayer, we've got to go back. I don't know what I was thinking. We really should not be here."
"Don't be ridiculous," Ayer said. "We're not children anymore. And there is historical precedent, after all. Meriadoc would become master of Brandy Hall, and little Pippin was the next Thain. Yet they went off on a far more dangerous adventure than ours. And which of my silly 'responsibilities' could be more important than finding the land of the elves?"
"They'll be worried when they realize we've vanished!" Tom persisted, pacing the deck anxiously.
Ayer grinned recklessly. A strange light gleamed in his eyes. "I left a note for my father explaining that I'd gone off on a bit of an expedition, but not to worry, because you were coming along to look after me. He always believed your little fables so well when we were young; he's sure to hold you responsible for my continued well-being."
Tom froze in his tracks and stared at Ayer in dismay. "Oh, horror!" he exclaimed. "Do you have any idea what he'll do to me if anything happens to you? I'd rather drown!"
*
"Why Valinor?" Tom asked on the third day. It was raining lightly, a warm and not at all unpleasant rain. There was not much wind, but Ayer was content to let the boat just drift along – given the clouds, it was difficult to make out the position of the sun, or determine exactly where West was, so he deemed it better to make little progress than to plunge ahead in the wrong direction.
"Well, because that's where the elves went, of course," Ayer said distractedly. He was fumbling with a knotted rope for some unfathomable reason. Ropes were apparently very important to boats, Tom decided.
"Yes, but what else do you know about it?" Tom said. "It's hardly even mentioned in passing in the books I've read, although I dare say you've leafed through more than I. Our library has little in it about the elves – but you're the scholar. Are there more elven scrolls in the library at Brandy Hall? Or at the Great Smials? You spent two solid months there once."
Ayer put his rope aside. "I was looking for more books on elves, yes, but I didn't find much. The library at the Great Smials has the most, and that is hardly enough. I wish I could visit the great libraries at Minas Tirith," he added wistfully. "They have all the old scrolls."
"You should go with your father the next time the King requests an audience with him."
Ayer shook his head. "That's rarer and rarer, these days. In the records, it is said that King Elessar met with the Warden once every five years. Now it's once every thirty, if that. My father has not left the Shire since this King's coronation, and we were practically babies then. No, I think the Big People have all but forgotten about the Halflings."
"So why Valinor?" Tom repeated. "I only dimly remember hearing the word."
"I first remember reading it in the Red Book," Ayer told him. "It's in Bilbo's song of Earendil – He saw the Mountain silent rise / where twilight lies upon the knees / of Valinor, and Eldamar / beheld afar beyond the seas."
"So you're just following your namesake?"
Ayer sighed in exasperation. "Not exactly. I mean, yes, I am, in a way, for he was seeking the aid of the Valar as I seek the elves. But he wanted them to help the elves fight a great evil, while the only evil of our days is the dying of the light of the elves."
The rain was lightening. Tom brushed his damp hair out of his eyes. "The Valar? But they aren't elves."
"Yes, but the elves all returned to the land of the Valar, in the end. To Eldamar, Elvenhome – to Elvenhome the green and fair."
"But wouldn't that be a different place, then? If it's got a different name?"
"Oh, do be quiet," Ayer said crossly. "It's all the same realm. If I'm muddling up the names, it's because my knowledge of the elves has been pulled together piecemeal out of dozens of different references and half-remembered lays. What matters is that's where the elves are, and when we find them, they'll be able to teach me the proper names."
"But why do you want to find the elves so badly?" Tom asked softly, but Ayer, who had stood up and strode across the deck in his irritation, did not hear. Tom slowly pulled himself up to his feet and moved to follow him. "Ayer?"
Ayer was staring out into the distance. The sun finally broke through the clouds, glittering suddenly across the Sea.
"Ayer?"
"Look, over there," Ayer said urgently. "See? Just on the horizon? I think it's an island."
on to part 4
a Fourth Age hobbit fic
by kaydee falls
part 1. part 2
When asked, Tom would not remember exactly how they got the ship out of the harbor. He had never even been aboard a little river vessel, let alone a proper boat, and he was completely at a loss. He followed Ayer's orders in a sort of daze. There were a lot of ropes involved – ropes to be pulled, tied, untied and retied because Ayer didn't think his knots were strong enough. He was fairly sure the boat required some sort of direction that wasn't limited to pulling ropes, but if so, Ayer did that part.
What he did remember, with perfect clarity, was the moment the boat passed between the two cliffs, and the Sea opened up before them.
From the Towers, hobbits could see a great distance, and Tom had always been aware that the world was quite a big place. But nothing could have prepared him for the sheer vastness of the Sea. He'd always pictured it as he saw it from the Towers – a glittering line on the horizon. It was still that, but far more; it was everything up to the horizon, too, and stretched out in every direction. If the sky was vast and endless, then the Sea was even bigger, because it reflected the sky like an infinite mirror, or rather countless little mirrors sparkling with every wave and ripple. Middle-earth behind them seemed shadowy and insignificant beside that staggering expanse of water.
"Oh, glory," he whispered – and he couldn't know it, but the sense of pure, unadulterated awe that washed over him at that moment was quite precisely the same as had been experienced by his legendary ancestor, Samwise the Brave, when he encountered elves for the very first time.
"I know," Ayer murmured. But he didn't, not really; the Sea meant no more to Ayer than the means to an end. He would never experience that selfless wonder, for Ayer would never meet an elf, and he knew not how to fully appreciate the glories of the world without the guidance and example of the elves.
Tom was not fully aware of any of this, of course. But when he glanced over at Ayer, he felt a sudden, unexpected surge of pity, and did not know why.
The first day of the journey was a remarkably easy one. A fairly strong wind came up out of the east, and the white sails snatched it up. It was as though the ship were flying across the water, and by midday, the land behind them seemed no more than a memory.
"If I'd known boats were this simple to navigate, I'd have tried this much sooner," Tom laughed, lying stretched out along the deck. He would have liked to trail his hand in the water, but it was a bit too much of a reach down from the railings, and he did not want to topple out. Swimming was all well and good when it was in a bit of stream trickling out of the Lune, but the sea was somewhat deeper, and he realized that beneath the tempting sparkle, there were unknown and potentially dangerous currents and other such unfamiliar things. Fish, perhaps. Big fish.
Ayer smiled. "Well, we've got a good wind headed in the right direction, but not too strongly, and not a cloud in the sky. It wouldn't be so simple in other conditions."
Tom rolled over onto his stomach and propped his chin up in his hands. "How do you know anything about sailing, anyway? This is a far cry from the little river boats on the Lune or the Brandywine."
"It's not all that great a leap," Ayer said. "There's just a lot more water, and more emphasis on wind rather than currents. And I took this out for many little expeditions while I was building it, of course."
Tom sat straight up, appalled. "You took this thing out on open water all on your own? Ayer, you idiot, what if something had happened to you? No one would have known where to find you! You're the next bloody Warden of Westmarch, you've got...responsibilities!"
Ayer looked vaguely cross. "Well, I had to make sure it worked properly, didn't I? I could hardly get halfway to Valinor and then realize I'd built it wrong. And nothing did happen to me, so why fuss over it now?"
"You shouldn't be taking risks like that," Tom insisted. "The Warden—"
"If you think the title is so wonderful, why don't you take it?" Ayer snapped. "Until I marry and have kids, you're next in line. Yet here we are, the future Warden and his backup, floating about on the open sea all alone."
Tom leapt up. "Ayer, we've got to go back. I don't know what I was thinking. We really should not be here."
"Don't be ridiculous," Ayer said. "We're not children anymore. And there is historical precedent, after all. Meriadoc would become master of Brandy Hall, and little Pippin was the next Thain. Yet they went off on a far more dangerous adventure than ours. And which of my silly 'responsibilities' could be more important than finding the land of the elves?"
"They'll be worried when they realize we've vanished!" Tom persisted, pacing the deck anxiously.
Ayer grinned recklessly. A strange light gleamed in his eyes. "I left a note for my father explaining that I'd gone off on a bit of an expedition, but not to worry, because you were coming along to look after me. He always believed your little fables so well when we were young; he's sure to hold you responsible for my continued well-being."
Tom froze in his tracks and stared at Ayer in dismay. "Oh, horror!" he exclaimed. "Do you have any idea what he'll do to me if anything happens to you? I'd rather drown!"
"Why Valinor?" Tom asked on the third day. It was raining lightly, a warm and not at all unpleasant rain. There was not much wind, but Ayer was content to let the boat just drift along – given the clouds, it was difficult to make out the position of the sun, or determine exactly where West was, so he deemed it better to make little progress than to plunge ahead in the wrong direction.
"Well, because that's where the elves went, of course," Ayer said distractedly. He was fumbling with a knotted rope for some unfathomable reason. Ropes were apparently very important to boats, Tom decided.
"Yes, but what else do you know about it?" Tom said. "It's hardly even mentioned in passing in the books I've read, although I dare say you've leafed through more than I. Our library has little in it about the elves – but you're the scholar. Are there more elven scrolls in the library at Brandy Hall? Or at the Great Smials? You spent two solid months there once."
Ayer put his rope aside. "I was looking for more books on elves, yes, but I didn't find much. The library at the Great Smials has the most, and that is hardly enough. I wish I could visit the great libraries at Minas Tirith," he added wistfully. "They have all the old scrolls."
"You should go with your father the next time the King requests an audience with him."
Ayer shook his head. "That's rarer and rarer, these days. In the records, it is said that King Elessar met with the Warden once every five years. Now it's once every thirty, if that. My father has not left the Shire since this King's coronation, and we were practically babies then. No, I think the Big People have all but forgotten about the Halflings."
"So why Valinor?" Tom repeated. "I only dimly remember hearing the word."
"I first remember reading it in the Red Book," Ayer told him. "It's in Bilbo's song of Earendil – He saw the Mountain silent rise / where twilight lies upon the knees / of Valinor, and Eldamar / beheld afar beyond the seas."
"So you're just following your namesake?"
Ayer sighed in exasperation. "Not exactly. I mean, yes, I am, in a way, for he was seeking the aid of the Valar as I seek the elves. But he wanted them to help the elves fight a great evil, while the only evil of our days is the dying of the light of the elves."
The rain was lightening. Tom brushed his damp hair out of his eyes. "The Valar? But they aren't elves."
"Yes, but the elves all returned to the land of the Valar, in the end. To Eldamar, Elvenhome – to Elvenhome the green and fair."
"But wouldn't that be a different place, then? If it's got a different name?"
"Oh, do be quiet," Ayer said crossly. "It's all the same realm. If I'm muddling up the names, it's because my knowledge of the elves has been pulled together piecemeal out of dozens of different references and half-remembered lays. What matters is that's where the elves are, and when we find them, they'll be able to teach me the proper names."
"But why do you want to find the elves so badly?" Tom asked softly, but Ayer, who had stood up and strode across the deck in his irritation, did not hear. Tom slowly pulled himself up to his feet and moved to follow him. "Ayer?"
Ayer was staring out into the distance. The sun finally broke through the clouds, glittering suddenly across the Sea.
"Ayer?"
"Look, over there," Ayer said urgently. "See? Just on the horizon? I think it's an island."
on to part 4
