The Pentanath: Adventures in the Avathar
Book 1: I Morė Lumbor Chapter 3 - Where the Sea Meets the River by Sienna Dawn
NC-17

Disclaimer: All familiar characters of this story belong to the awesome world and works of JRR Tolkien, who is an unparalleled genius of this genre. All unfamiliar and original characters, animals and places are of my own invention. I do not derive any monies from this work and created this story solely out of the love and respect that I hold for all of the works related to this canon.

The First Five Hundred Years....

It was at the end of the Third Age when many of the Quendi journeyed from Middle Earth to Aman. There, like many of their kindred before them, they settled upon Tol Eressea, called the Lonely Isle in the common speech.

Tol Eressea was an ancient land, anchored off the eastern coastline of Aman. Here, a community of fisher folk had dwelled for long ages, shunning the more sophisticated elves of Alqualonde, the Swanhaven of the Teleri.

Life on Tol Eressea, usually called Eressea, was simple, without many of the luxuries enjoyed in the mainland cities. Eressea was a land of remote and lonely beaches, with deep, dark oceans, abundant sea life for good fishing, and where windblown salt marshes competed with deep cool groves. It was a land of contradictions, where freshwater lakes, rivers and waterfalls rushed from the deepest ground to meet the fathomless salt waters of the Shadowy Sea. It was a land that gave generously, but also took ruthlessly. Life on Eressea was lived at a slower pace than elsewhere, and there more attention was paid to the ways of the past than elsewhere on Aman. Almost all of the citizens of Tol Eressea made their living from the sea, using the time-honored methods of ancestors long-gone. The elves of Eressea were clannish and stubborn, proud and resilient, often rejecting the modern methods of life introduced in the larger cities. Some said that because of this, time stood still in Tol Eressea.

Into this mix came many of the exiles from Middle Earth, those who fled war, shadow and had finally succumbed to the call of the Sea. Most found Eressea too sedate for their taste and moved on to settle in the larger cities of Aman.

Yet, a select few stayed on. Whether they stayed on out of sheer stubbornness or because they had grown to love such a wild place will never be truly known. What is known is that once Tol Eressea experienced the touch of the elves of Middle Earth, life on that island was changed forever.

~*~*~*~*~

A tall solitary figure walked across the marshes. His hooded head was bent into ocean winds that slammed into his strong body. He could smell the sea not three leagues away, and was glad for the good weather or else his traps would have been useless.

The winds howled across the salt marshland that rose high above the eastern reefs of Tol Eressea. Behind him lay the sweet water of the Gliding River, with its glittering waterfalls and rich groves. But the tall elf who crossed the marshland on this day was not thinking of waterfalls or groves. Instead, his mind was focused on the several dozen traps set across the wild harbour below the reef. Here he came once a month and removed the small ocean delicacies so craved by the citizens of Alqualonde.

That this was a hard chore was not in dispute. Many times he had wondered what madness prompted him to continue. But each time he was greeted with the magnificent sight of the seas below him, he knew that his choice had been the right one. He knew his lifestyle shocked and even worried his family and friends, and he never really understood why. Always had he loved the lakes and rivers of his home in fragrant Lothlorien, fishing whenever he was able to, a luxury he eventually had to forfeit for duties and responsabilities under his command.

After a lifetime of war, he now welcomed this solitary and peaceful existance. The sea was his friend and provider. The river his source of travel and the groves his companions and home. At night, the stars above him lulled him into an exhausted but restful sleep. The elf, who had never known a life without the constant threat of death and shadow, now shunned the fellowship of others. Instead, he courted the solitary lifestyle he had now embraced for several centuries.

The edge of the marshlands came into view and the elf halted, his gray eyes adjusting themselves to the shoreline below him.

He knew from past experience it would take him at least a half hour to cover the distance from the top of the hill where he now stood, to the wild harbour below him where his traps lay. After that, another eight hours or so of hard work loomed before him.

He knew sunset was only a few hours away. He decided to make camp by the shore and begin work early the next day.

~*~*~*~*~

Not too far from where the solitary elf stood surveying the ocean, a pair of green eyes watched with longing.

He had come again. Just as she knew he would always return.

Each month, she knew, he would come and check his traps. Each month he would once again pass her father's home. Never again did he detour to her father's doorstep for a cool drink of water or a sip of their best wines. That was never to be again.

Instead, he would carefully follow the path which circumvented the House and with this, avoided her. And as the months passed, there was never contact between them again. In this manner, the years melted away and with it, the hope in her heart.

Taking a deep sigh, Min turned away. Following the ancient trail that led toward the elm groves ahead of her, she walked back to her father's house.

The sun was beginning to set beneath the waves and she had guests to tend.

Soon, a three-storied building rose above the tallest trees that marked the boundary of the salt marshes.

The House of Elms was a large stone and wooden house made to accomodate travelers enroute to and from the interior.

Mostly used by the fisher folk, it had stood for nearly 5,000 years. Founded by Northromin Unthel, it had passed to Min's family several generations before.

Now she and her kin tended the House, which had grown in repute as a place for comfortable lodging and good food. All folk who made their living by the shore stayed at the House.

As she walked, Min let herself briefly think about the elf on the marshes. She had tried as best she could to distance herself from the pain she felt. How she had come to love this complex elf was beyond her understanding. And more so, her heart's refusal to stop loving him.

It was as her father had warned, she thought: the exiles of Middle Earth bore many scars and not all were visible to the eye.

Turning her face toward him once more, she saw that he no longer stood silhouetted against the bright azure sky.

Blinking hot tears away, she steeled herself as the warm golden light of the House came into view.

~*~*~*~*~

It was when she sighed that he heard her and knew whose voice came on the salty wind.

Closing his eyes, he resisted her allure, and marvelled that even at this distance he could sense her presence. But, he did not turn around, for if he had, he doubted he could have resisted her. Her longing was too raw, too powerful to be ignored.

"Min" he thought. "Min..." but he soon controlled his heart and pushed back the memories that threatened to destroy his peace of mind.

Angry at his lack of control, he pushed Min firmly from his mind and began the long descent to the shore.

As he climbed down, he thought back to the early days of his arrival. To the days when deep green eyes had besotted him, captured him and claimed him.

Those had been the days when he and his brothers explored the wilds of this island called Tol Eressea. Together they found the best spots for hunting and fishing, until one day they had chanced upon the House of the Elms nestled in an ancient grove.

There, he had come to meet his destiny, his reason for living and his greatest failure. Yet, he was not to realize this for many years to come.

Focusing on the rocky descent, the elf's keen ears caught the sound of his name on the wind. Cautiously, he stopped and narrowed his gaze over the choppy seas. In moments, he had located the caller and his generous mouth broke into a pleased smile.

"Hail, Korthin!" He exclaimed as he completed the last few feet of his descent and dropped onto the sandy beach.

When he jumped, his hood fell away from his head, and revealed to the light was an expanse of silver-blonde hair. This was a feature uncommon in the elves of the island, except for the Vanyar. Although fastened behind his back, the winds lifted and whipped the silken hair toward his face, concealing the fair features of the tall elf.

The caller, a dark-haired elf named Korthin, waded onto the beach. At the sight of the blonde elf, his youthful face broke into a warm smile. In his hand he carried a broken trap.

"Well met, Haldir!" He called, genuine affection in the musical voice, and dropped the trap onto the sand.

Haldir approached and his eyes surveyed the object on the sand. "Again?"

Korthin nodded, "Aye. Makes the fourth one this year. Have you any ideas what sort of animal can work its way out of a trap, my friend?"

Haldir shook his head and looked toward the open sea. He could see his own markers still bobbing above the water level. "Nay," he replied softly. "I do not."

Korthin picked up the broken trap and turned it over in his large hands. "I wonder..."

Haldir looked at his friend, a puzzled look on his face.

Korthin smiled and let the trap fall back onto the beach. "Oh, 'tis nothing. But I often wonder if perhaps someone is letting the fish escape."

Haldir frowned and smiled, "If it is as you say, then this person must be indeed a swift and able swimmer." Haldir's eyes sparkled before he added, "To elude the mighty Guild Captains who patrol the waters of Aman and Eressea, one would need to swim more swiftly than the waves of the sea and know every hiding place and trap set by the Guild." Here Haldir paused and thought for a moment.

"Indeed, I know no such person." In his eyes there was an easy smile and his voice was gentle as he teased his old friend.

The younger elf grinned and slapped his thighs to clear the sand from his hands. "I suppose not, eh?" His merry brown eyes sparkled, completely unaffected by Haldir's dry comment.

Haldir laughed heartily and invited Korthin to a dinner of fresh wine and roasted duck. Korthin, never one to turn down a meal, eagerly accepted and soon the two elves were busily lighting a small bonfire on the quiet beach.

As they ate, the sun finally set. Stars were beginning to sparkle on the clear expanse of lavender sky that was slowly turning to a deep blue.

The waves lapped gently onto the shore. A soft, cool breeze blew across the sea and toward the beach. The softness of an ocean night had descended swiftly.

The bright flames of the fire cast long shadows on the elven faces.

Korthin watched Haldir as they ate in silence. Finally, he could stand it no longer.

"Did you pass the House?"

Haldir's eyes left the flames and raised to his friend's face and he nodded.

"Aye, I passed it by."

His answer was soft and thoughtful and he dropped his gaze back to the flames.

Understanding, Korthin nodded and made no other comment.

Privately, he thought Haldir was a fool, but he also understood the difficulty of the situation.

Reaching for another piece of meat, Korthin stole a glance at the silent blonde elf and wondered if he would have the discipline and strength to shun something he wanted with all his heart.

But then again, thought Korthin, he was not the former Marchwarden of Lorien. Korthin could easily see why the Lord and Lady of that land had so trusted Haldir. He radiated confidence, control and command.

Yet Korthin could not help wonder how much of that control was also plain stubbornness.

Seated across from Korthin, Haldir could sense the younger elf's unease, and knew his old friend wanted to discuss Min. Yet, he did not wish to speak of it himself and knew his curt reply had stifled Korthin. Haldir observed Korthin for a moment, before dropping his gaze back to the fire. Long years of solitude had not changed Haldir. He was still the same: elegant, aristocratic and when he desired, arrogant and difficult. Time and solitude had sharpened his wits and this served him well. But inside his deepest self, Haldir of Lorien had not changed.

Finishing the last of his wine, Haldir packed away the cup and turned to the younger elf. " 'Tis late. Are you planning on remaining?"

Korthin laughed, "Nay. Not this time. Beside," Korthin grinned, "I know you wish to be rid of me and my impertinent questions."

Haldir smiled, "I did not say that, old friend."

"Aye, but you are much too diplomatic to say it. Still," Korthin sighed, "I can sense it." He stood. "I wish you a good night and thank you as well for sharing your evening meal with me." He gave Haldir a small bow and saw the blonde elf nod his head in return.

Turning to gather his gear, Korthin looked back at Haldir, who was reclining on a large blanket in the sand. He saw Haldir was staring out to sea.

"I will be heading toward Alqualonde within a fortnight, Haldir, and I will make a full report of what I have found here."

Korthin's brown eyes became serious and he looked toward the now-dark sea. "Something is causing the traps to spoil and the fish to escape." He faced Haldir again.

"Tell me, my friend," Korthin began suddenly, "Do you not miss your work in the Ranger Guild?"

Haldir smiled and heaved a deep sigh. "Sometimes I let my mind wander, and I remember the first few years I spent as a Ranger." Haldir's silver gaze lifted to his friend's face. "It was a good life. Traveling Eressea, inspecting the forests, seas, rivers and plains of the island. Making certain everything was well tended and cared for." Haldir's eyes glazed over as he recalled his former life.

"Why did you leave the Guild, Haldir?" Korthin asked finally.

Haldir shrugged and lifted his eyes to Korthin's, "I tired of it." He saw Korthin's stunned expression and smiled, "Here, I am able to live freely and as freely travel, sleep and work." Haldir reclined on his elbow and turned to watch the ocean, remembering. He had dropped from the Ranger Guild, but his brothers, Orophin and Rumil, continued their work there. He had not seen them in a very long time. This too, he remembered.

Ready to depart now, Korthin stepped around the fire, walking closer to Haldir. His deep brown eyes glanced briefly at Haldir before lifting to the sea. The winds were still. This was good, he knew, for it meant no squalls or inland storms.

Dropping his gaze to Haldir's form, he said, "If the Rangers do not discover what is spoiling the traps, and stop it before it spreads, the fishing guilds will be affected. It is far more serious toward the southern shores. Not as evident here because this place is so remote." Still", Korthin continued and drew his Ranger's cape around him, "I am concerned."

Realizing his old friend was now ready to depart, Haldir stood, and offered his forearm.

"I still think it is not as serious as you believe." Haldir said quietly.

Korthin grasped Haldir's forearm with his own in the ancient sign of solidarity. "I hope the Valar hear you and it is so."

Haldir nodded mutely and Korthin grinned wickely, "And I hope that Min haunts your dreams, my friend, as punishment for being so obstinate."

Haldir grinned but said nothing. He knew that his friend deserved to know the full story of Min. And he would tell him, Haldir thought. But not now.

Korthin turned and quickly made his way out of the beach and toward the rocky cliffs.

In moments, Haldir saw him begin the long climb to the marshlands which would take him back to his Guildhome.

Dropping back to the blanket, Haldir let his mind wander, and suddenly, his thoughts betrayed him, and into his mind came the unbidden memory of deep green eyes.

Groaning, Haldir closed his eyes and listened to the hypnotic sound of the ocean. Vainly, he fought to control his emotions. In moments, the memory of soft lips pressed against his own caused him to shudder. He dropped back onto the blanket, his face turned toward the glittering sky, but his eyes were still closed.

Once again, as he had countless times before, Haldir beseeched the Valar to free him from the emotion that had long held him in its thrall.

Opening his silver eyes, Haldir contemplated the sky and then leaned on an elbow, watching the water mirror the brilliant stars.

From the Valar no answer came.

~*~*~*~*~

Key:

I Lurea Fanya - Quenya - "The dark clouds"

elleth - elf-maid

Alqualonde - Meaning "Swanhaven", Alqualonde is an elven city on the eastern shores of Aman.

Vanyar - "the people of Ingwe", the fair-haired group of elves who were the first to make the journey from Cuivienen to Valinor and are believed to be the Highest of the High Elves. They are called after their leader, Ingwe, whose Halls are beneath the Mansions of Manwe. All of the Vanyar left Middle Earth in the beginning of the First Age and never returned. The Vanyar are known for their golden hair and are, along with the Noldor and the Teleri, called Elves of the Light. Although Tolkien does not make this clear but only hints at it via the coloring of such elves as Galadriel and Celeborn and Glorfindel, some of the golden-haired coloring of the Vanyar must have remained within a portion of the elves of Middle Earth, most likely through marriage.

Teleri - "those who came last". The third and greatest of the elven kindreds. The Teleri were the last group of elves to journey to Aman and they dwelled in Alaqualonde.

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Disclaimer: All familiar characters are owned by JRR Tolkien and are used without permission. No monies are being made from this work.
Painting is taken from John William Waterhouse's "Miranda", 1875.

Graphics copyrighted Cari Buziak