Author note: This chapter references chapter 1 of my 2004 story, “Estel’s Birthday”.

THE RINGS OF EVENDIM

Chapter Seven: Common Ground

The Snowmen of Forochel ... were afraid of the Witch-king, who (they said) could make frost or thaw at his will. ‘Appendix A’, The Return of the King

“We speak the language of Men, King Elessar Telcontar,” He-án said, as the group walked together towards the city. “But what if we did not? We were prepared to communicate in signs and pictures, if need be.” He gestured to one of his companions. “This is He-nára, our finest artist.  He asked to journey with us in case his skill was needed.”

“That was very foresighted,” Elessar said with approval.  “We were also prepared to attempt many methods of communication. Frodo son of Drogo, who guards your generous gift so fiercely from the greed of his countrymen, is also a fine artist. This esteemed Dwarf, Gimli son of Glóin, speaks the language of his people, and my Queen is versed in many Elvish tongues. I speak several languages myself, including some words of Adûnaic, an ancient tongue of Men.”

“I’m not guarding these sweets, Aragorn,” Frodo insisted.  He held the package up to his nose and inhaled the delicious fragrance of birch sugar. “I’m just making sure they don’t get misplaced.”

“Besides, they aren’t for us anyway, Strider,” Sam said earnestly.  “We’ll save them for the children.”

“Of course you will,” Elessar said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

He-tyána shook his head in wonder. These adult curly-haired folk were so small, their children must be tiny indeed.  Who were these people, and why did they not wear footgear? They would fare poorly in the ice and snow of his homeland.

“You have many names, King Elessar Telcontar,” He-án ventured.

“I traveled far for many years, and often took such names as were given to me,” Elessar explained. ”I do not now, nor will I ever, begrudge those I esteem from addressing me as they once did.” He smiled at He-án. “You need not address me with such formality, my friend; you, too, lead your people, and stand forth proudly under your own name.”

He-án bowed.  “your courtesy and the friendship you extend so generously honor us greatly. After such a long journey, we scarcely dared hope for such a welcome. My wife’s dream proclaimed the Days of the King, and I see that it is so. Much has changed in the world since last our people met.” He frowned suddenly, and exchanged a worried glance with his son.

“Chieftain He-án,” Elessar said softly, “I am not your king, and would never presume to call myself so unless the People of Heskil-anna wish it. The wars of conquest and plunder in Middle-earth are no more.”

He-án looked relieved. “You perceive much that is unspoken,” he said. “Is Middle-earth what you call the southern lands?”

“It is what we call all lands east of the Sea,” Arwen explained. “Perhaps your word is Endórë?”

“It is, Queen Arwen,” He-tyána responded.  “Regretfully, our maps show very little south of our homeland.”

“Our maps show very little north of here,” Merry said. 

“There’s a wonderful map in this city that you might like to see,” Pippin spoke up. “It takes up a whole room.”

“I would appreciate viewing it,” He-án said.

“Would you tell us more about your dogs, sir?” Sam asked boldly.

He-án smiled, amused that of all things, it was their hounds about which about which the southerners appeared the most curious. He, in turn, hoped to learn much more about the beasts called ‘horses’, which were now effortlessly pulling their sledges through the high grass.

“Our hounds are named Huma and Hukara, mother and daughter,” he began. The dogs looked up at the sound of their names, and Pippin could swear they were smiling. “They are good natured, but fiercely protective. Our hounds excel in tracking, carry small loads at need, are hardy in cold, and help warm our beds in deep winter. But there is more to them, much more.”

“Can you imagine our pups carrying loads?” Frodo asked, laughing.

“They do excel in tracking, though,” Merry said. “Remember in the Old Forest, when Scamp—“

There was a sudden gasp from several of the visitors.

“Annúminas,” Elessar said quietly. They had come to the southern edge of the meadow, atop a small rise, and the entire city now spread out before them.  Fishing and pleasure vessels in the lake could clearly be seen, as could the streets, buildings, and folks going about their daily business on foot, by cart, or astride horse or pony.

Several of the visitors had grown pale, and all looked about in a mixture of wonder and fear.

“So many people,” He-tyána murmured.

Elessar and Arwen exchanged a glance. Annúminas held but a fraction of the population of Minas Tirith, but apparently the snow lands were even more sparsely populated. He called a halt so that the overwhelmed visitors could absorb what they were seeing.

“There they are!”

“Dad! Dad!”

From over the hill separating them from where the royal residence and guesthouse stood, the five Gamgee children came into view, running toward the party. Back from their tour of the lake, they had been looking for their father and uncles, impatient to share everything they had seen.  The children slowed when they came closer and saw the strangely-dressed visitors, except for young Pippin.

“Puppies!” the seven-year old cried out with joy, and to Sam’s horror, the tiny lad ran full-speed up to one of the dogs and reached his small arms upwards, trying to hug her.

“Pip, no!” Sam cried out, and snatched his son out of the way, fearing he was about to be devoured.

He-tyána only smiled, placing his hands on the heads of Huma and Hukara.

“I understand your fear,” he said to Sam in gentle tones, “but they are used to children, and would never harm one.”

Sam hesitated, but after a moment he reluctantly let Pippin go.

“Those are dogs, aren’t they?” Elanor asked, marveling at their size.  “Pip has been missing our pups dreadfully.” She looked up curiously at the visitors. Fingering the necklace Queen Arwen had given her, and remembering her new status, she stepped forward and curtseyed.

“Welcome to Annúminas,” she said softly.

“We thank you, young miss,” He-án said.  The young girl was so small, and so lovely, he for a moment had wondered if she was real, or perhaps a messenger sent by Yáve-anna.

“May I present Maid Elanor of the Shire,” Arwen said.  To Elanor’s surprise and delight, all eight of the visitors bowed to her.

The rest of the children came forward to investigate the huge dogs.  Sam stayed close, but observed that the dogs seemed to be enjoying the attention.  He privately wondered whether they were indeed always this friendly when it came to children, or if the faint whiff of fish emanating from all the little ones accounted for some of the dogs’ enthusiasm at greeting them.

“Pippin,” Frodo said to his cousin, “do you remember the first time you met Scamp?”

“I think so,” Pippin responded. “I must have been very young.”

“Younger than Pip-lad, and you greeted her with the same excitement.  There’s something about dogs that bring out the best in folks.”

“I never thought I’d hear that from someone who used to fear the very sound of a tiny pup barking in the night,” Merry said teasingly.

“That was a very long time ago,” Frodo said airily. “Scamp cured me of my fear.”

“I would hear more of this noble ‘Scamp’,” He-tyána said.  Such a strange name!  Their own hounds were named in honor of Huan the Steadfast, of whom many legends resonated among their people.  

“Do not get the hobbits started telling tales just yet,” Elessar said with a laugh. He started the company walking once again, steering them towards the guesthouse that lay at the other side of the hill.

“Hobbits,” He-án murmured.  There were so many questions he desired answered, he feared he would barely know where to begin.

“That’s what we call ourselves,” Pippin explained. “Our home is south of here; we came to see the city too, and visit with the King.”

“The city’s awfully big, isn’t it?” Merry said. “Hobbits live in smaller homes than these, built into hillsides.”

“Our homes are small as well, save for our feasting halls,” He-án said.

“Is it all snow where you live, sir?” Sam asked curiously.

“From my father’s generation back to the ancient days, it was largely so, save for the bay in the west and our southern border,” He-án said. “Periods of thaw have occurred, but rarely, and were always brief.  Twelve turnings of the sun ago, the air began to warm once again; there is now much land which is green and rich, and old knowledge of farming and tending croplands must be re-learned.”

“We will be glad to share with you any techniques that will help,” Elessar said. “The hobbits are especially skilled in cultivating the land.”  He looked thoughtful. “Twelve years ago, you say?”

“Yes,” He-tyána responded. “My mother dreamed that the long curse of Angmar had lifted at last, and a true warming begun that will continue. However, only time will tell if this thaw is only temporary, as they have always been in the past.”

“Your mother dreamt truly, He-tyána,” Arwen said. She moved to stand behind Merry. “This hobbit, Meriadoc Brandybuck, was one of those responsible for Angmar’s unmaking…. twelve years ago.  His feat – as well as those of his countrymen – is renowned in song and tale.”

“Angmar’s unmaking?” He-tyána gasped. He looked down at Merry, then at the other hobbits. He found himself beginning to tremble with all he had seen and heard in such a short time. “How?”

“Come,” said Elessar, holding out his right hand to the young man. “Let us get you settled first, in a house set apart from the city so that you and your companions can eat and rest.”

He-tyána took the King’s hand, and when he grasped it, a calm strength slowly filled him. He-án, seeing his son relax and stand straighter, marveled at this man called King, but also wondered if their journey had, after all, been ill advised. The snow dwellings of his people would seem quite humble to these folk who dressed so richly, appeared to lack for nothing, and displayed abilities beyond his experience. Would they be interested in the trade goods they had brought so far, or the proud tales of his people?

“Would you mind showing me your necklace, sir? I promise not to touch it.”

The hobbit garbed in the black and silver of the King’s banner was gazing up at him earnestly.

He-án knelt, holding out his necklace for Pippin to examine, and the hobbit exclaimed over the unusual stones.

“They are called amber; quite difficult to find, and greatly prized.  Only those of a Ruling Clan may wear them.”

“Are they jewels?” Pippin asked.  “I’ve never seen anything quite like them.”

“It is said they were formed from the sap of ancient trees.  We wear them to honor our connection to the ancestors.”

Gimli spoke for the first time, his eyes gleaming with interest.  “Jewels from a tree, eh?  I know a certain Elf who might appreciate such things.”

“You make sweets from tree sap, and gems as well?” Merry exclaimed with delight.  “How clever!”

“They’re very beautiful; we’ve never seen anything quite like them,” Pippin said appreciatively, and He-án could easily sense the truth in his voice.

Perhaps they will appreciate our goods after all, he thought, his heart growing lighter. If the Sorcerer-king Angmar is indeed no more, a new age has surely begun for all people.

“Peregrin Took, at your service.  Call me Pippin.”

Even from this distance, He-án’s keen ears could discern the splash of fountains and faint music, and when he looked up, the far green hills were restful to his eyes. He bowed his head in gratitude.

Blessed be Yáve-anna and Heskil-anna for safeguarding my people. Blessed be Irmo Dream Lord for sending us here.

The hobbit was smiling at him.

“Pippin,” He-án said softly, “I am very glad to meet you.”

** TBC **