Belen Menel
Chapter 6: Laughter & Frienship

Leuruna, as was typical of her people, had keen vision. She saw Elessar and his Queen, resplendent, triumphant, but most of all beautiful. The light seemed to glow about them, the white stones beneath their feet luminous, and the White Tree, reborn.

The White Tree, Leuruna exclaimed silently. She had heard in her peoples’ stories of the White Tree of Numenor, of Nimloth, that her ancestors had beheld and mourned when it was cut down in ages past. As a child she imagined seeing it with her own eyes. In her dreams she willed it to live, for the White Tree was not only the symbol of the Kings of Gondor, of Men, it was the hope of Return, of her peoples’ returns to live by the Great River that had generously guided them and fed them during the days of the Old Journey, before the sundering of Middle Earth. And when her people heard that the White Tree was reborn, they know it was time for them to Return.

Next to the brilliant King and Queen stood another dark haired man, similar in countenance to the King. His lady was fair, her hair pale like the sun. Their smiles greeted the old Drú woman, clan mother. Leuruna returned their smiles with hearty and joyful laughter, ‘rich and rolling,’ infectious[1].

As the envoy stood before the Lords of Gondor, the crowds gathered hushed in anticipation. Elessar raised his hands to his guests, and speaking in Drughu, “Welcome, friends. Welcome to the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor. Welcome on behalf of all of us to Minas Tirith.” Arwen repeated Aragorn’s welcome in the common tongue, and the crowds erupted in cheers of agreement.

Gobân-buri-Gobân, son of Ghân-buri-Ghân, of the Drúedain Forest, whose people aided the Riders of Rohan during the War of the Ring, answered for the envoy. He bowed slightly to the King and Queen, to which Elessar indicated with his hand for him to rise. Gobân spoke in Common, “Thank you for welcome. Drughu, we are in the service of Elessar and his Queen.” Though spoken simply, it was spoken sincerely.

Gobân retreated a couple of steps, and the old woman that stood behind him came forth. In turn, and in that peculiar Drúin way, she bowed her head to the King and Queen and to the other Lords present. Leuruna looked up to the group before her, tears welling up in her eyes. “We have waited long. I am Mother, standing for Drúwaith Iaur, ancient Drughu-land. Humble, we pledge friendship.”

Elessar was taken by the old woman’s show of emotion. There was no embarrassment or attempt to hide her tears of joy. She stood before them in plain sight, no masks. Elessar addressed her in his simple Drughu, “Welcome Noss Mother. Your return is welcome. It is as told.”

Arwen, again, said the same in common, adding, “and we dear Mother pledge our friendship.”

Leuruna did then what Drúin always do in times of happiness—she laughed with pleasure, and so infectious it was, that everyone who heard shared in her laughter, even the Elves who watched from a distance beyond the Tower of Ecthelion. Leurana heard their laughter, like bells of silver floating on the wind, and with her keen sight she saw them, gathered by the Tower. Her smiled brightened and her laughter rang out in the sky. Long ago her peoples had lived with the First Born, but she had never seen them. She had never laid eyes upon the Eldar she dreamed of as a young girl, and there they were—beautiful.

Elueth and Legolas brought their hands to their heart, greeting the old woman and her people, their laughter ringing throughout the courtyard.

~*~**~*~

All ceremony aside, the Drúin were introduced to the Prince of Ithilien and his White Lady. Faramir could hardly contain his excitement as he swept up the old woman in a hug. Her eyes were bright with amusement as the young and handsome man settled her back down to the ground.

“Forgive me, my lady,” Faramir realized, embarrassment causing his face to flush, “I know not what overcame me.” He could hear Éowyn giggle behind him.

Leuruna reached her hands up to clasp the young man’s handsome face—the stiff formalities of other cultures was not Drughu custom—“No son, I think you have fallen for Drú magic.”

“My lady,” Faramir countered as he gently placed his hands over Leuruna’s old weathered hands, “we have heard tales of Drúin magic. I am only glad that it is so delightful.” Faramir gifted the old woman with a sincere, but heavenly smile [2].

After, taking in Faramir’s smile, Leuruna turned her attention to Éowyn, “I know you Lady of Shield-arm,” placing her hand on the once injured arm. “I come from long line of maiden warriors. We too lead our People.”

Éowyn’s eyes beamed with pride, a warmth radiated from the old woman’s touch through her arm.

Leuruna turned to Aragorn, “King Elessar, your lovely Queen took leave. I heard of the beauty of the First Born, but words are not big enough for her beauty.” And turning to Éowyn, “No, words not big enough for the beauty I behold here.” She brought her gaze to Faramir, and then finally laid her eyes upon Aragorn.

Aragorn chuckled as he gently clasped Leuruna’s hand, “If I may be so bold…Mother?” Aragorn was trying to establish the protocol of conversation. There was not much prior experience to fall back on.

Leuruna squeezed the imposing King’s hand, “Ai, Mother I am, and Mother is my name. You can call me by my birth name, Leuruna, if wish, but Mother is who I am.”

“Then please Mother, I am simply Elessar.”

The Lords of Men had been surprised that the Drughu of myth long hidden in their mountains were in fact not myth, and they spoke Common well enough as Leuruna’s conversation with them so proved.

Anticipating this query, Leuruna offered, “While we Drughu are secret, we had dealings with the men of White Mountain. To survive we listened to the men. To listen, we needed to understand their tongue.”

Aragorn laughed in understanding.

Leuruna, offered a more interesting tidbit, “As Mother, I am bound to know many tongues our People knew of Old, even that of Numenor.”

“Adûnaic?” Faramir queried, half disbelieving.

“Yes, lord. Our lives number few years, but our memory is long-lived. Our knowledge never forgotten.” Leuruna’s eyes twinkled, enjoying the looks her revelations caused in the handsome men’s faces.

Like Aragorn, Faramir offered, “Leuruna, Mother, please call me Faramir, and I hope that I will soon hear your people’s tales of Numenor.”

The old woman smiled in acknowledgement. Aragorn—Elessar—extended his arm out to Leuruna, and she accepted his help, as she placed her tired hand on his arm.

“So tell me, Mother,” Aragorn asked as he walked Leuruna and the others to their lodgings on the sixth level, “are you familiar with any of the tongues of Elves?”

“Familiar, yes. I speak some, but not like Common or Adûnaic.”

Éowyn and Faramir fell behind Aragorn and Leuruna as they wandered down on private paths to the sixth level lodgings that would house the guests.

Gobân-buri-Gobân had quietly observed Leuruna’s interactions with the King and his Lords. His faith in Elessar and his people was affirmed. It really was the dawn of a new age.

[1] In part four of Unfinished Tales concerning the Drúedain, Tolkien writes: “Their voices were deep…but their laughter was a surprise: it was rich and rolling, and set all who heard it, Elves or Men, laughing too for its pure merriment untainted by scorn or malice.” (p. 394).

[2] In the same section of Unfinished Tales concerning the Drúedain “possessed uncanny and magical powers” (p. 396).