by Silent Draco
Book VIII
Of Wonders, Fair and Perilous
While some wonders of Eldamar would interest the remnant at Rivendell, the Havens, and Lorien, much would confuse others, or arouse lust, greed, and wrath among the mortal races. Such tales are only recalled in the Undying Lands, and in few enclaves on Middle-Earth.
Chapter XI
The Healing of Lórien
And so the travelers came in their own times to the Houses of Lórien, set in vast gardens and groves, surrounded in herbs and plants useful for healing of the body and mind. Airy houses, gazebos, and cottages were scattered in no pattern at all, but all were of fair seeming and coloration, useful to aid the calming of mind and hearts. The groves and gardens yielded many nuts, fruits, and flowers that were pleasing of sight and scent, delectable to the palate, or useful for healing all manner of ills.
The Halflings were borne in great haste and at great speed in Olorin’s carriage, traversing so fast as to challenge the speed of a great shout. Sam had arrived at the great hall, with the Binding removed barely in time for him to complain about being swathed like an infant, as the Masters of Lórien met them. “… me down, Mr. Gandalf, sir, not a parcel …” he spluttered, only to be set gently on his feet before Estë herself, she being the wife of Irmo, known as Lórien. Sam boggled at the sight of her, standing supple and lovely, swathed in rose-colored raiment. Fairer and taller she was than the Lady Galadriel, more remote in her eyes but more attuned to the present in heart and hands. She glanced down and with a smile, said “Welcome to my houses, young one. Lady Nienna informed me that you are tormented by an illness at your heart. Pray, walk with us, so we may sit and relax mind and heart. Other healers will address the needs and hurts of your companions.” She beckoned to two other healers, and walked with Sam slowly through garden and grove to a small hut with coneflower-blue shutters and a sun-yellow door.
“Your Ladyship,” said Sam, startled out of gloom, “these colors remind me of him! Old Tom, Master Tom Bombadil I should say, and his merry cottage under the Downs. Ah, what a visit ‘twas that, and the merry waters he gave us! And Fair Lady Goldberry …” Sam, now abashed, noted the resemblance of the two ladies; Estë but smiled and laughed. “’Old Tom’? Older in Arda than many can fathom. I recall him entering in; and finding fair Aman
A lovely land, but the water and sand
Are a bit confining for what’s at hand,
‘Tis time to seek a lovely little creek,
That lets we dance a minute for a week!
Off to my tends, most wonderous of friends,
Ye shall know whereabouts my land has ends!
A river nigh, and reach unto the sky
With trees and hills enchanting passers-by!
Lovely are the trees, enchanting with bees,
Swaying to the winds which fragrance frees
Of blossom fair, and leaf and needle where
A joyous scent wafts away to the seas!
… if I have his words,” she suddenly smiled prettily as a hobbit-maid, dimpling at memory. “He went off to his own comfortable nook, settled in with a great sigh and glad dancing. You were fortunate to encounter him. Ah, I miss his nonsense songs, and the joy wrapped about him.”
Estë waved him inside, with the healers following, bearing incense and a flute. She bade Sam sit on a very comfortable divan, and sat in a chair facing him. “Simply relax, and breathe slowly, young Sam,” she commanded in a low voice, gazing into his eyes. She smiled, her eyes bright. “Ah, I see Tom and his Lady in your eyes, that first visit and then twice more, later? Truly you were blessed, and I rejoice in your finding him – or him finding you, it seems.” Sam blushed, thinking of their flight out of Buckland and almost into disaster before reaching Bree. “Speak to me of those visits, of your courtesy, for word or thought of that dear one lightens the heart.” Sam looked inward, pondering the joyful puzzle involved, and began speaking slowly and then more quickly of the other visits. “… an’ the second time, well, Queen Arwen has asked me to bring Rosie and Elanor to visit with her an’ the great ladies. It bein’ a decent summer, I asked Frodo and young Strider to come along with me. On our return along the Great Road, I thought I saw Old Tom an’ that great pony of his a-frolicking up a hill, fit to dance it down. And then hey! They both fell out of sight, then trotted out from a shoulder of chalk, laughing as dust flew everywhere. An’ it was as if he looked with an eagle eye right to me and sang out, ‘Ah! Fair ladies, fine Master Samwise, come with your sons to dine with the sun’s rise!’ it was that way he always spoke in poem or song, and waved us toward a fine-laden stone under a great tree. Oh, his ideas of tea were a great feasting!” Sam relaxed in reminisce.
She gazed deeper, then closed her eyes and sang gently. Subtle, sweet-spicy tones of incense began to wreathe the room, and delicate notes framed all in peace. Opening her eyes again, she asked the half-sleepy Sam to speak to her of his Rosie, whom she saw in all his open mind. “Ah, Lady, I always fancied her, e’en as youngsters, her with the bright curly hair and smile. It’s just … she was so pretty and laughed wi’ everyone, perfect maid, an’ me just bein’ apprentice and then gardener, that I never quite … would I have spirit enough to ask her old da?”
“An’ then came that night when Mr. Gandalf got me by the ears, him and Mr. Frodo talking of Elves an’ all the great an’ beauteous places and things, and an Enemy, an’ hey golly! Suddenly I’m to go with Mr. Frodo to garden and help out like, away from her an’ Hobbiton. But not, ‘twas a covering tale, because o’ them, and, and, of Him.” Sam began to quiver and shake, gazing without sight into Estë’s face, while tears streamed down his face. “Ol’ Master Tom, he saved us from something awful, and Master Elrond healing Mr. Frodo as best as any, him so cold and pale, and that long journey to the very gates of … an’ Gollum, that slinking stinker, looking to kill me and me master, looking for his Precious, that cursed thing, and that horror city and its Watchers!” Estë and Goralie, one of the healers, exchanged glances of sorrow and concern; nodding once, she removed an alabaster jar from a shelf and uncapped it. The crisis comes. Prepare and strike! she spoke to his mind.
Sam now babbled, unseeing, soaked in tears and sweat. “Watchers, and then Her, that great beast, an’ she slew Frodo me thought, an’ almost got me, but her Ladyship’s glass and Sting, they showed her! An’ Gollum ye stinker, ye’ll not escape me, but I can’t let Him have it, so I hadst to take it off poor Mr. Frodo y’see? An’ it weighed naught and then felt like a great grain sack. So off we goes to find them Doom Cracks or what, an’ it spoke to me. It said we could clean all this land, toss Him out on ‘is ear, and makes it all a garden of lovely things, an’ … it lied, I knew it, but it whispered that I’d be the bestest ever, even more that old Mister Colman, bigger and better than her Ladyship’s, an’ grow all matter of things and flowers an …” Sam’s voice flattened to a dry rattle, and continued shrilly:
No Westman’s weed and Elanor seed,
Will never whet the whistle!
So add some strands of fever-weed
And mix with bogland thistle!
So raise the ghagroth and old red bogwash,
Sow plot with togriizsh, liriath rotted,
Add ratsbane, copper, and the huru-ghash!
Mix life with death and death besotted so!
Estë gathered the strands of incense like a flail in her right, and smote Sam’s breast and head, calling in a loud voice:
Avaunt, depart, and trouble not again
No beasts and birds, nor Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, Men!
I draw thee forth and bind ye in the cell,
Maia and Vala adamantine shell!
For far is journey set aside for blight:
Ye forth shall go beyond the Gates of Night.
Unto the Void and chaos shall ye go,
Eternally, with Master, in his woe!
As Estë and the healers chanted, the air and incense thickened, grasping the dry, wrathful voice from Sam and pulling forth something unclean, stem and root, from the depths of his heart. Sam screamed, then groaned and fell senseless to one side.
In the Name of Eru Illuvatar,
In the Names of Manwe and Varda, Elder King and Great Queen of Arda,
And in my own Name and self,
I call ye forth from this mortal, and into the jar of adamant.
I bind thee within and seal against all sense, touch and mind.
Unmade are ye, O fragment of the minion;
No more a form of evil and bane!
Ye shall be expelled beyond the Gates of Night,
To suffer endless sorrow in the Void with your Dark Master.
Begone and trouble not Arda!
So command I, Estë, Lady of the Valar!
As she finished, words and voice rising and filling the cottage with power, the unclean thing was forced into the jar. The lid slapped down, glowed red for a minute, then faded with no sign of opening or thread. “Goralie, of thy goodness take two guards, and convey this with all careful haste to Mandos immediately. The unclean thing must be expelled from Arda.” She swayed in her seat, and in a ragged voice called “Namarith, please, serve marithian, fruit, and light-bread for us. But hold! He falters and his heart fails; his mortal frame is frail.” Taking Sam’s hands, she felt his heart tremble and stumble, faltering.
* * * * *
Find Previous Chapters Here:
Chapter 10 – Part 1
Chapter 9 – Part 2 Chapter 9 – Part 1
Chapter 8 – Part 2 Chapter 8 – Part 1
Chapter 7 – Part 2 Chapter 7 – Part 1
Chapter 6 – Part 2 Chapter 6 – Part 1
Chapter 5 – Part 4 Chapter 5 – Part 3
Chapter 5 – Part 2 Chapter 5 – Part 1
Chapter 4 – Part 2 Chapter 4 – Part 1
Chapter 3 – Part 2 Chapter 3 – Part 1
Chapter 2 – Part 3 Chapter 2 – Part 2
Chapter 2 – Part 1 Chapter 1