From Applecider Bolingbroke, Hobbit Bard, to Missie Arwen Evening-Star of Cloven-Valley, dispatched via the postal aviary at the Elfshire of Duillond:
Le suilon, Hiril vuin! ~
Greetin’s, an’ all me respects to yer venerable Gaffer an’ pulchritudinous brothers: May their wine forever be both robust an’ ample, an’ their popovers toasted perfectly.
I hopes this find ye in the best of health an’ spirits alike. I owes ye an apology fer not makin’ it back ter Imladris while the foliage were in full blazing color – I were a mite distracted by the most off-beaten-track Quick Post run a Hobbit ever ran.
It kept a body occupied.
I been hopin’ ter pick yer mind on a matter. One lass to another.
Briefly: I be takin’ it upon meself ter learn to cultivate the athelas herb.
Athelas be a fascinatin’ discovery upon which I chanced in the course of a jaunt with the Green-hooded Bounder Mister Halros (he be an associate o’ that Gentleman Friend o’ yers).
Why you Elfs an’ them Dúney-boys chooses ter keep the Secret o’ the athelas to yerselves stuck me some’ut sore at first. But the scarcity an’ relative unknown status o’this scruffy long-leafed Paragon of Plants I admits ter understandin’ a bit more now, havin’ thus far failed in me own attempts ter cultivate it.
Me early efforts at startin’ a few sprouts like a common herb garden came sadly to naught, an’ the Lore of Hobbits be regrettably lackin’ on the subject. Whelp. I figgered t’weren’t aught to do but roll up me sleeves an’ cast a wider net fer expertise.
Namely, the Lore of Skinny Elfs an’ Dúney Green-Hoods.
I started by hittin’ the books.
Duillond’s library yielded a measure o’ useful writin’ on the topic – Vol. II of Perf Gelais (or as I translates it, “Encyclopaedia Botanica”) be a straightforward read (by Elfish standards), with many a curious datum.
Mind you, it be a slow-boil of a task ter read. You skinny Elfs dinnae loan out books from the library the way we Hobbits do (I s’ppose they’d nae get returned fer a few decades). So I gots ter hoof it to Duillond in person whene’re I wants to read some’ut, an’ take some notes. (Miss Sergie’s private copy of Perf Gelais be incomplete: Volumes II, V an’ VII were immolated when she ‘ad one of ‘er Emotional Moments, an’ somethin’ got set light to ... again. ... She still en’t managed to replace ‘em).
From these pages I gleaned more about the plant’s history, if nothin’ else at least. Bein’ that it first grew in Beleriand, an’ then died out wi’ its loss, yeh’d figger that’d be a wrap. But as it also grew on that funny star-shaped island Númenor as well, I s’ppose its return ter the mainland with the Dúney-boys’ ancestors were an inevitability.
Here’s the real eyeball-crosser, though.
Regardin’ its distribution, Perf Gelais ‘ad this ter say:
“In the Third Age only the Eldar and the Dúnedain Rangers retained knowledge of atheals’s healing properties. It grew sparsely, chiefly in the North, and only in places where Men of Westernesse had camped or lived.”
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.... A’ight ...... – Stick me in an entire bowl of rice pudding an’ call me very confused, but how in Bullroarer’s name do THAT chalk up?
I’d thought the Hobbit lore, that the weed were confined to our north-nor’west Shire boroughs were a pure geographical-seasonal limitation. Am I ter understand it only grows there cause those boroughs border either the Elfy Blue Mountains or the Dúney Twilight-Lake region?
Why? How?
Do the athelas plant gots innate loyalty like a housepet embedded in its fibrous petioles what causes it ter uproot itself an’ follow Elfs an’ Dúney-boys whenever they relocate? Like that tree me colleague Dep.-Shirr. North-Took saw walkin’ about Bindbole last autumn? Do Elfs an’ Dúney-boys just gots inherently superior refuse fer compostin’ an’ tillin’ or a club-fort o' magical growth spells they en’t willin’ ter share with the rest of us?
Forgive a body fer speakin’ frank – we’re ladies; we be mature enough to speak on the practicals o’ life – but I gots ter take someone to task on this front.
Figgered thar were enough book-lore, so I went out to start askin’ questions.
Chats with local Elf-folk regardin’ how they gets their athelas ter grow yielded few encouraging results:
Mister Merethir, the caretaker fer local residences, confirmed the data I deduced: athelas’s tiny star-shaped flower be averse ter harsh light. When ‘e finds it around the village, it always be on the back side o’ stone columns, or tree roots.
Missie Brethilwen, what tends the vineyards north o’ Duillond, says often she’ll spot athelas peerin’ out from the base of ‘er grape trellises in early spring. It be equally fragile as it is stubborn.
Mister Ialadir, the overseer o’ farming operations in Celondim were the one on whom I’d most pinned me hopes. So naturally, t’were him who dealt the blow most discouraging.
Says he: skinny Elfs simply dinnae grow athelas as a crop. As one would, say, carrots or barley. The chief supplier, in point ‘o fact, be local Hunters. They picks it when their hunts take ‘em by the riverbanks or the low wooded dells, hereabouts.
E’d never heard o’ someone systematically cultivatin’ the stuff: Man or Elf.
Mister Ialadir’s sole pause fer thought were one o’ “necessity.” Celondim an’ Duillond be small, an’ safe places, where not much dramatic happens. Very purposely so. So while ‘e’d never heard o’ deliberately producin’ quantities of athelas, ‘e admitted thar were also no need to do so: Thar be sufficient natural supply for what few mishaps occur.
Well, straightaway, I resolved to direct me next inquiries to some Folks who DO get into regular scrapes, an’ WOULD want ample athelas – namely the braw Dúney lads.
But Mister Ialadir’s talk gave me further thought as well.
Celondim an’ Duillond en’t got much of a standing armed force, but I knows for a fact: your Imladris valley do. Bordered as yeh be by misty Mountains an’ wood-land full o’ trolls, an’ Ettenmoors, an’ such, your brothers an’ their men gots to get up to any number o’ harrowing scrapes. An’ yer ol’ gaffer be a Healer of laudable repute. Surely Imladris gots a need for abundant supply?
I en't so ashamed as ter ask yer input; yer a picture of affable courtesy. I seen yer gorgeous atriums full o’ trees an’ exotic fruits an’ such on me last visit: Do you lot grow the athelas plant?
I refuses ter be discouraged yet. Read that Elfin history again: T’were prolific on the isle o’ Númenor till the locals brought it ter the mainland: ... Ergo – quite demonstrably – It CAN be deliberately cultivated!
Help a girl out here, Missie – tell me what I be missin’.
I be dispatchin’ this letter via the postal aviary at Duillond an’ sendin’ me own wee hawk Maedwen ter me closest contact in the Dúney folks.
Still lookin’ forward to revistin’ Cloven-Valley once the snows clear fer the year. I readily assure ye, any comparisons twixt the Lore of Elfs an’ Green-Hoods on the subject, I shall relay forthwith.
With humblest gratitude, an’ ever at the service o’ yerself an’ yer Kin I remain cordially yours, Applecider Bolingbroke
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