Perhaps the most important thing I packed for our Bridal Tour was the gift my lovely bride Seregrian had given me as a wedding gift, her work Mortals: A Case Study. I knew that there would be times during our journey when her insatiable Elven curiosity would require her undivided attention, and although I could descend into jealousy over that, this Mortal is resolved to not be that foolish. On those occasions, I will find a place to set myself down, read, and be reliably found when her inquisitiveness is satisfied.
We are mid-afternoon on our first day of the Tour and have stopped to rest the horses near the village of Needlehole, an interesting mix of Dwarf and Shire cultures. Despite their differences and because of their similarities, they have built a thriving community along the banks of The Water, as they call it, upstream from the Rushock Bog. Although my bride has passed this way many times, She has always been on errantry that denied Her the opportunity to explore the village. Our Bridal Tour is a more blessedly leisurely affair, and She has expressed the urge to interact with the villagers with more than just the courteous greetings exchanged upon our arrival. In response to her desire, I held up her case study and a brow, silently asking her leave to stay with the horses and read. With tender respect, she gently kissed the end of my nose and bade me sit beneath a tree for quiet shade as I continue to read, and she explores.
“Interrupted Research” describes a time when Her attention was drawn away from research on mortals, with me as an example, as we had both decided for our own reasons to leave the Company. Furthermore, her colleagues in Imladris had summoned Her for errantry sending her through Moria and Lothlorien to the east, Eregion and Dunland to the south, and even to the horse-lord lands of Rohan. The nature of Her errands was not laid down in the case study, but one serendipitous result was clearly stated.
“These Mortals have nobility, not savagery. I never would have guessed such a thing.”
With the notable exception of Moria, these were also lands I had at least passed through in my own wanderings and, like Her, became more enlightened on the commonalities across the Free Peoples, even though my activities were far more mundane. Whereas she was apparently on some heroic adventure, I was merely working my way along a rover’s unplanned path, an unremarkable fellow toiling here and there for a time on a farm, in a kitchen, or afield as a hunter and trapper. Like Her, I came to realize that amongst all the Free Peoples, there are folk good, bad, happy, frightened, brave, desperate, or some combination of the all myriad of things any of us may be, depending on when or where we are on our own personal journeys. When Her path finally crossed mine, we were both ready to dare love.
Near the end of the case study entry, She describes an encounter with Captain Teahesto who, upon reflection, was the indispensable seasoning in the recipe that brought Her and I together. He was the essential messenger that carried my letter to Her, assuring Her that I was well (hoping that it would matter to Her) and that I resided in Bree (thinking She might one day visit). I recall, at that time, the thought of romance with Her, despite my waking-dream to the contrary, seemed most unlikely. I would not allow my love for Her then to be more than its most essential ingredient, respect. I must smile as I recall my first encounter with the Elf Captain:
'What is it, exactly, that makes Elves so...compelling?', Cutch thought as he rode out the Bree South Gate and viewed their camp from a distance. His mare browsed the grass and he dismounted, giving her a chance to find something tasty. He watched their camp for a few minutes, pretending to search saddlebags and check cinches.
'Well, they are beautiful', he thought, 'and graceful. They seem so calm and confident. There is something else though. They seem to charge the air about them with.... their own wisdom. Or maybe it's just the long history of an immortal life?' One of the Elves, the tallest and most regal in posture, began looking at him. Cutch offered a wave, which was not returned, and began leading his horse to the camp.
'There is an arrogance perhaps', he continued to muse, 'or maybe the certainty that they cannot be impressed, surprised, or intrigued, since they have seen all there is to be seen.' The Elf began to walk towards Cutch, apparently intent on meeting him halfway. Even from a distance, Cutch could see the Elf was examining him carefully. Offering to shake hands on his last step, Cutch said, 'Good day master Elf. I am Cutch of the Bree-lands.' He had to look up, as the Elf was considerably taller.
The Elf looked down at the offered hand passively for a moment, then looked directly into Cutch’s eyes while clasping it, saying, 'I am Teahesto, escort of pilgrims to the West.' He held Cutch's hand for an instant longer than was necessary, their eyes locked. Cutch imagined him to be a guard captain with a long history of travel and fighting on lands near and far. Teahesto released Cutch's hand and, with a puzzled frown and slight smile, asked, 'What brings you to our camp, Master Cutch?'
Taking a moment to clear his throat, Cutch answered, 'Well, I have a friend in the Falathlorn that I would like to get a message to.'
As Cutch reached into a pocket to retrieve a small scroll, Teahesto said, 'So you know of Falathlorn. I assume your friend is an Elf, then.'
Cutch nodded as he offered the scroll. 'Yes. Her name is Seregrian, and we became acquainted through the Company of the East Road.'
Teahesto shot him a searching glance as he accepted the scroll. 'Yes, I've heard of both the company and of her.' Looking at the scroll, he noted that it was not sealed in any way, just tucked into a loop of red ribbon simply tied. 'And you would have me deliver this to her?'
Cutch nodded, reaching for a coin pouch. 'Yes, if you please. It simply states that I have left the company for...personal reasons and am I quite well...and not to worry.... if she has been...you may read it if you like.' His hopeful gaze upon the elf was spiced with a pinch defensiveness.
Teahesto waved off the coin pouch, nodding politely to the Man. 'We are travelling most directly to Falathlorn, and I need no payment for the delivery.'
Glancing around the Elf, Cutch noticed that most of the rest of the camp's occupants were looking their way, some chatting among themselves. 'My apologies for interrupting your...business.'
Teahesto followed his gazed toward the camp and said, 'No need to apologize, Master Cutch. We will be camping here for a day...maybe two. Would you care to join us later for the evening meal? We will dine at sunset.'
Beaming at the offer, Cutch said, 'I would be most honored to join you, but only if I may bring something to share, if you please.' Teahesto gave him a surprised look, to which Cutch stated, 'I have had the privilege to serve Elves in the past and would be happily prepared to do so again.'
Teahesto smiled at his hopeful enthusiasm and offered a slight bow. 'We would be honored to have you do so.' He offered a hand, which Cutch accepted and shook perhaps a bit too vigorously, this time imagining Teahesto overseeing feasts, song, and storytelling….
Aye, it proved to be a delightful evening of food, song, dance, and drink. I slept hard and the Elves left me to my slumber as they quietly broke camp and made their way westward. Claywick was to find me snoring away the next morning and would chide me for days afterward.
Lastly in the case study entry, my new bride described Her ride back to Bree in terms that show urgency even though she asked herself, “why was I even bothering?”. That she would think to ask such question seems, itself, to be part of the answer.
Often have I heard that the journey is as important as the destination. Looking back upon my own and reading here about Hers, I would say that journeys are naught but a string of destinations, like treats on a yule-tree garland, and we should allow ourselves the time and attention to explore each one for their enrichment.
This Bridal Tour is yet another journey, and at the same time a destination of sorts, hopefully the stuff of happy memories and fuller understanding of what and who We are now, as ordinary husband and extraordinary wife.
I close now as I write this, for in the distance I hear my beloved wife approach humming a tune. She wanders toward me, a happy and far-away look on Her face. She looks at me and Her pace quickens, and She glows with the smile She offers me.
Perhaps we will tarry on our blanket for a bit with wine, bread, and cheese.
