Passersby ➵ ONC 2021

➵ river fences

Longil seems to be partial to Ulvinowyn and lets the cat sleep in the sun while the other two are sent away.

The dwarf is instructed to do the chopping of kindling on the first day. He swings for hours, each dry log splitting with a soft splintering noise beneath his axe. He thinks of nothing, all focus pointed entirely towards the wood beneath the blade, all internal dialogue discussing only the task at hand. And what a tranquil life that must be, to be able to think of nothing. Gimli, in this sense, is a lucky little man.

The elf envies such an ability as he is brought away by Nînthel and her warriors to learn how to patrol their borders. Every mere step brings a new flood of ideas and wonders. Each second of silence brings a year of thoughts. Thoughts of life and the lack of it, thoughts of this strange new place with such similarly different people, thoughts of Ulvinowyn, thoughts of Gimli, and thoughts of Aman.

The lush greenness of the grass and moss remind him of his adventures just a century prior. He wonders if this will be his new big journey; his grand new escapade. It's certainly possible it could be, although this one does not involve any hobbits. He misses when it did.

They reach a large stable of stone, stepping inside and all grabbing an oryx and a bridle laced with ivy and rope.

"You'll need to learn how to ride one of these," Nînthel tells him as she grabs hold of the long horns and mounts her own animal. "If you've ridden a horse before, it isn't very far removed."

Legolas follows her lead, getting a firm grip on the Oryx's farthest horn and hoisting himself onto its back. Replicating Nînthel's instructed clicking command, he gets the animal to move forward and follow the rest of them out into the open wild.

"Nahi i onlui radag cin nor?" he asks them, slightly bothered by the uncomfortable way the animal moves beneath him and searching habitually for other options. "Is this the only animal you ride?"

Elu, who rides next to him to herd the oryx in case he handles it incorrectly, flicks his own reigns and stares straight ahead, his tied-back hair flowing swiftly behind. "No ar û," he replies. "Yes and no. We have begun to attempt training the greater kudu. They are far more elegant and sturdy, and they're quick when they must be. But they do not seem to like us."

He ties the statement off with a humorous smirk before motioning with his head to a ravine in a far field.

"They graze there," he explains. "It's rare they're not present in it. I suggested putting up gates on either end and keeping them in to train them all at once."

"Mín turú, Elu," Nînthel scolds. "We cannot, Elu. What is the worth of a life within borders?"

"It is a life they are already living," Elu objects coolly. "Shfashara may not exist within an island, but we are surrounded by rivers if not ocean. No matter where they travel, they will reach waters they cannot cross."

The wind sprays itself against Nînthel's emotionless gaze as she looks out on the fields. Though her mouth displays no frown, it is painted across her eyes like fire.

"...What, your kudu cannot build rafts?" Legolas remarks nearly accidentally, leading the group of elves around him to stop almost completely in their tracks.

Nînthel blinks once, and the fire is gone. "Kudu of Middle Earth's woodland realm are able to build rafts?"

Legolas stares blankly back. "No."

Elu lifts an amused eyebrow at Nînthel, who has clearly not appreciated the light jest. "I do not believe kudu inhabit Middle Earth or the islands around it," he tells her. "I can sense words from this new elf of ours are words we must always take lightly."

Nînthel, however, does not give into the lightheartedness.

"We will not fence in the kudu," she says firmly, and they resume their ascent through their fields and towards the far woods again. "Not when they are already restricted."

"You are so sure that you know what brings them happiness and what removes it," Elu replies, "although you have never been close enough to one to even touch."

Nînthel demands silence with a sharp look back, and they continue on without a sound.

Legolas wonders if the kudu have ever tried to cross the rivers. Perhaps they've been swept under, and perhaps their souls have become the water as well. He wishes he knew.

Although there are many things he already knows, this is an area he's blind to. He is highly educated on only the aspects of his own kind: their many languages, their history, their geography, their cultures. But he knows nothing of the things they do not know, so he knows nothing of death.

He wants to understand the spirits of the kudu. And he wants to understand the spirit of Aragorn. He wants to find it, feel it, know it is there. It is impossible for him to accept him being completely gone.

He hopes that the soul of Aragorn does not feel as trapped by the ocean as the kudu do.

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