A gust of wind.
Whispers in the grass.
The breath of Ard-Galen.
Whispers in the grass.
If the meadows stop breathing,
Valariandë will fall, they say.
A gust of wind.
Whispers in the grass.
I can hear it…
The breath of Ard-Galen.
„We cannot go any further, Felyo!“
„True. And we cannot go back either.“
Nothing in front of us. Everything silent.
If they saw us, why has nobody stopped us yet?
I turn around and look at Macilvelco.
„Let us stay here for the night. But no campfire.“
Bind two hawks together, and they will lose their ability to fly.
Cage a bird, and after years it will forget the taste of freedom.
Even with freedom given, it will strive to return to the cage.
Control a realm with borders, and there will always be those who cross them.
Youth cannot be deceived by false limits.
There will always be those who go beyond.
„They will punish us.“
He laughs.
„They will punish YOU. My father will insist in punishing me himself.“
I look at Macilvelco.
In our little fellowship, he and Ururáto are carrying the heaviest burden.
Exposed to the diligence of two twisted spirits.
„If we found a scout and killed him, we could at least present a token of proof for our important patrol.“
„A token of proof?“
„An orc head, you fool. A trophy.“
„Disgusting. I leave that neat work to you.
Besides… have you ever killed an orc?“
My comrade mutters:
„Mmmh..n-not really.“
„Have you at least seen one?“
„No. …but my father has!“
„I do not care about your father. He is insane anyway.“
„Listen, Felyo.“
He grabs my arm.
„Trust me. We should try to find an orc. That might be our only valid excuse.“
„Stop that nonsense, Velco!“
„No, listen. Listen! Just one scout. I heard there are many scouts. We just need to go further north.“
„You do not even know how an orc scout looks!“
„I know how they look. My father has described them many times. Their faces look like being hit by a massive stone. They are small… and walk like injured dwarves.“
„How can you know, you have never seen a dwarf in your life! For Lothlann’s sake Velco!“
„Be quiet and listen. We will observe the whole situation. Once we have make sure the scout is cut off from the others, we will kill him.“
„That sounds like a really bad plan.“
„But it is a plan! What’s your plan?“
I sigh.
„Once we return, we will be like heroes! You will see, Felyo.“
„Heroes. Oh yes, for sure. For sure! We will return home like prince Findecáno, rescuer of Lord Maitimo. Do not make me laugh.“
The wise elf does not do business with fools.
However, there is no wisdom without foolishness.
Fools strive to go beyond their limits every day.
The wise try to stay within these limits.
Do not let yourself be fooled by the wisdom of fools!
They may make a wise out of the fool you were.
Moonlight.
We have left our horses behind. I narrow my eyes.
„This way!“
Macilvelco follows.
We run.
I hiss:
„Hold!“
I look around.
A silent night.
My comrade grabs my arm.
„Left side! There is something!“
We run.
He lifts up his hand:
„Hold!“
He points at the grass.
„Something…or somebody passed here.“
„I do not believe so.“
He whispers:
„Looks like an orc. A big one. Believe me.“
We run.
He grabs my arm again.
„There!“
He turns around:
„Felyo, stay behind me. If you see any sigh of other foes, whistle once.“
„Fair enough“ I tell him.
We continue, staying low. The high grass is protecting us.
He stops and makes a sign.
I look over his shoulder.
Someone is crawling forward, slowly.
A horrible smell.
I point at his bow - shoot him!
But he shakes the head and makes two fists.
I frown.
What is the point in engaging such a creature in close combat?
I continue to watch the back side, glancing at Macilvelco from time to time.
He suddenly charges, crossing the distance and jumping upon the creature’s back.
„Ugghn-n-n!“
The creature turns around like a snake, grabs Macilvelco and delivers a left hook to his face, drawing a short blade with the other hand in the meanwhile.
„I suni!!…“
The creature suddenly drops the blade and begins to jump around, holding his left hand between his knees.
I freeze.
An orc speaking the ancient tongue of the west? And using SUCH a word? And jumping around like this?
Macilvelco looks at the jumping creature. Then he glances at me, chaos in his gaze.
I shrug. Nobody knows what is going on in this very moment.
„Your jaw must be made of stone! Ai! Ai!“ laments the creature.
„By all iron gates of Angamando, who are you?“ mutters Mavilcelvo.
Getting a bit closer, we see a young elf standing in front of us, smeared with something that could only be described as… some sort of dung.
„Who are YOU two for Narog and Ginglith’s sake? And what are you doing here?“ he hisses, still in pain.
„I am Felyanáro. And this is Macilvelco. We are both from Lothlann.“
He studies us, slowly moving the fingers of his left hand.
„Lothlann? That is far from here! I come from Dorthonion.
Altárion is my name.
What are you doing here? Why did this fool attack me?!“
„I thought you were an orc!“
„I might be predominantly covered by orc dung, but I am still a warrior of my Lord Aicanáro and I am patrolling Ard-Galen at the moment“ he explains proudly. He catches my gaze. "Well, the dung...it is camouflage. To extinguish the eldarin scent." I raise my eyebrows and nod slowly.
„How is your hand?“ asks Macilvelco.
„I believe every single bone is shattered by your stony jaw. Has his jaw punished your fists too?“ Altárion glances at me.
I try to soothe his pain:
„No, but his horse has punished that jaw several times.“
„We are patrolling Ard-Galen too, by the way“ says Macilvelco.
„As far as I remember, Nos Fëanáro maintains the eastern part of the siege. The middle part of Ard-Galen is protected by Nos Arafinwë. And I…“
„Alright alright alright,“ interrupts Macilvelco.
„We just wanted to have some fun. We rode west and north. But now we need some token of proof for our..well, for a happy ending of our successful expedition. We need an orc.“
Altárion raises his eyebrows. And suddenly he grins.
„I have the impression we share a very similar fate indeed, my friends.
For I am tracking a single orc scout right now.“
„That sounds marvelous!“ I smile.
He frowns suddenly.
„That is MY orc. I need a token of proof too.“
„What if we just share“ suggests Macilvelco.
„Head for you, a finger for me and a toe for Felyo.“
„Why a toe for me?“ I ask, angrily.
„You can run faster than a horse.“
„I will feed you with that toe until you run faster than all horses of Lord Tyelcormo together, Velco.“
Altárion laughs.
„Why not take a belt, or a quiver, if he should have one? I have never heard of naked orcs traveling. So, no need to do gruesome business.“
After this brilliant idea, I begin to regard our new friend with growing respect.
Soon, we are ready to go on.
„Be careful, friends“ Altárion tells us.
„It is only thirty leagues to Dor Daedeloth, and danger grows the closer we get. The last line of our scouts is ten leagues ahead, and I know everything about their positions. Therefore, do not worry. They will not find us.“
A gust of wind.
Whispers in the grass.
Valariandë will fall, they say…
if the meadows stop breathing.
Whispers in the grass.
A gust of wind.
Sunset.
I study the gauntlet. Very poor work.
„Such awe in your eyes. I know, your trophy is truly precious.“
„It stinks. Besides, your new quiver is a masterwork too!“
„I do not mind. Not even the lovely smell. These trophies will come handy once we have arrived to Gwaevarad.“
„The whole cavalry will adore those jewels of orcish craftsmanship. Just do not tell them anything about their owner. The dangerous orc scout we found, laying dead in the grass."
Macilvelco does not answer.
He gazes at the setting sun for a while.
„You know what, Felyo. In this moment, I wish I was in Thargelion again. One day, I will go back.“
„But what would you do there?“
„I do not know. Sculpt. Live. Travel.“
I study my comrade.
They say, in Thargelion he has already fashioned some remarkable statues, but still I have never seen any of them.
„Where would you like to travel, apart from Thargelion?“
He ponders my question.
„To the east. And the south.“
He takes a gulp from the flask.
„That was the promise Fëanáro made in Tirion, wasn’t it, Felyo.
To discover countries far away, to behold the wonders of Endor.
I would travel to Tasarinan, with its many bees and willow trees…
And it is said the Onodrim dwell there!
And to Dorthonion, to visit Altárion.
And Taur-im-Duinath I would love to see one day. Is it as dark as they say?“
I laugh.
„The Onodrim! Sure. And they would just talk to you. Just because you know nothing about trees. Give me the flask, you are drinking like a horse.“
I take a sip.
„I would rather go to Vinyamar. It must be an impressive city.
Or Eglarest. The summer breeze is hot and humid there, and the foam of Belegaer rises high in sunlight. I envy the Falathrim when it comes to these things.“
Macilvelco nods.
„Indeed. But of these places we know things. What about the east, beyond the Ered Luin?“
I shrug.
I remember the words of my father… Far in the east, under the Misty Mountains, about mighty Casarrondo, kingdom of dwarves.
„Imagine…“ my comrade narrows his eyes.
„If we traveled to the Misty Mountains and beyond… what would await us there?
Through vast forests and dark meadows, maybe one day we would have reached the Water of Awakening.
Imagine that sky… Stars, beyond count. And under those stars you would stand, Felyanáro, and be in presence of something that is bigger than us.
You would be home… the true home of our people, beholding the origin of the Eldalië.“
His words have evoked something strange.
Suddenly, I feel as if I understood the whispering of the wind, I feel as if I heard the grass growing, and the undying heartbeat of Arda.
But the vision is gone, and I find no words to describe what just happened.
„Cuiviénen,“ I round, and suddenly the wind awakens again.
Macilvelco glances at me, and the breeze ruffles his hair.
Whispers in the grass.
„Listen! Listen! Listen!“
A gust of wind.
„Watch! And remember!“
If the meadows stop breathing,
Valariandë will fall…
A gust of wind.
Whispers in the grass.
---
[Translations and Notes:
Ard-Galen - Green Realm (Sindarin). Wide, green plain in the north of Beleriand. The fires of Morgoth turned the whole area to a charred desert, hence it was named Anfauglith later
Valariandë - Beleriand (Quenya)
Findecáno - Fingon, meaning "Hair Commander" (Quenya). Fingon was considered an elven folk hero during his lifetime in Beleriand. After the death of his father Fingolfin, he became high king of the Noldor in middle-earth. He was slain in the battle of Nirnaeth Arnoediad
Maitimo - "Well shaped one", mother name of Maedhros (Quenya). Referring to the eldest son of Fëanor and close friend of Fingon
I suni - "that b*tch" (Quenya)
Angamando - "Iron gaol", Angband (Quenya). The vast fortress of Morgoth, destroyed at the end of the first age in the War of Wrath
Narog and Ginglith - two rivers in west-Beleriand, flowing through the realm of Nargothrond
Dorthonion - "Land of pines" (Sindarin). This region in the north of Beleriand was slowly destroyed by the forces of Morgoth and Sauron, the later name was "Taur-nu-Fuin" (Forest under nightshade)
Aicanáro - "Fell Fire", Aegnor (Quenya). Brother of Finrod Felagund and Galadriel
Nos Fëanáro - House of Fëanor (Quenya)
Nos Arafinwë - House of Finarfin (Quenya)
Tyelcormo - "Hasty riser", Celegorm (Quenya). Third son of Fëanor
Dor Daedeloth - "Land of Shadow of Horror" (Sindarin). The area south of Angband, the land of Morgoth
Gwaevarad - "Wind tower" (Noldorin). Invented name, this location does not exist on Tolkiens maps (Beleriand / Lothlann)
Dor Caranthir / Thargelion - Land of Caranthir / Land beyond the river Gelion (Sindarin)
Tirion - "Great Watch-Tower" (Quenya). City of the elves in Valinor, built on the hill of Túna
Tasarinan - "Willow Vale" (Quenya). Referring to Nan Tathren, a warm and peaceful region in the south of Beleriand
Onodrim - Ents (Sindarin)
Taur-im-Duinath - Forest between rivers (Sindarin). A vast forest in the southern part of Beleriand
Vinyamar - "New Dwelling" (Quenya). City built by Turgon in Nevrast, western Beleriand. It was perched upon high terraces that looked towards the sea. By the time of this story, Vinyamar was already abandoned by Turgon who went to Gondolin with his folk (since the protagonists don't know about the existence of the Hidden City, they assume Vinyamar is still inhabited by the elves)
Eglarest - "Forsaken Cut", one of the two great cities in the Falas, western Beleriand (Sindarin)
Belegaer - "Great Sea" (Quenya)
Falathrim - "Elves of the Falas" or "Wave Folk" (Sindarin)
Ered Luin - "Blue Mountains" (Sindarin)
Casarrondo - "Dwarrowvault" (Quenya). Another name for Moria / Khazad Dûm
Cuiviénen - the place where the first elves awoke during the years of the trees. After the War of Wrath, this place probably ceased to exist
