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“Not a spider, don’t tell me it’s going to be a spider,” I honestly don’t know whether to laugh or cry. The idea of the tiny little elfling he must have been, not knowing what to do with the parcel – too afraid to open it, but not able to resist temptation – as he never, ever can – should be funny, but – with those brothers involved – my heart aches at the pity of it.
“Melethron-nin, that is what I said,” he continues, “I remember looking at them, and saying, “my lords, I – I think I will wait and – open it later,” and then seeing Ada’s face, and knowing – however much I did not want to – I had to open it now, and express thanks.” He drops into the semi-reverie speech which means he is reliving the whole experience,
“I – I look at my brothers, laughing, and I know they think they know what is in the package in my hands, and I can see their sons, older than I, have these – I do not know the words for them – not-real-spiders that move, and run about –“
clockwork, I think, the word is clockwork –
“- and – are so – big – and – I am afraid of those – and – I do not want to open this. But – Ada will be cross, and I so want him to be pleased with me – I think – perhaps – if I open it and seem to look – but – do not – really – perhaps it will be alright – perhaps – I can pretend.
The delegation from Lorien – I suppose they are bored by all the fuss – have turned away now, they are talking to Ada – I wonder if I could just – leave it. It cannot chase me if it is in the wrappings still. But – I can see Ada is still watching, I can see the frown on his face, I know – I know I never please him – I must try. I swallow, making myself, and – oh Gimli-nin, never have I done anything more difficult or needing more courage – I begin to open the package.”
My hero, I think, but – really – never anything more frightening? – bloody weird elves –
“It is not a spider. It – it is a strange grey creature. I do not know what it is – it is – furry – and it has legs – but only four – and it is grey, not black – and it has big ears – ears that I want to stroke, and touch – and – a long – nose and a little tail – and eyes. And – somehow – it looks – friendly. I hold it, and – and when I – quite by accident – squeeze it – it squeaks a little tune. And – I can stroke its ears and its – nose – I can hold it close – and it – is as though it strokes my ears. And – oh it is lovely.”
I recognise the tune, as unconsciously he sings it. Oh. The “Annabon, annabon” song. Oh dear Mahal, I think, the poor little thing. I am ashamed to think how many toys I had. All of us cousins had. And we were not princes, not rich. I put my arm round him, as though that will help the elfling he speaks of, so long ago.
“I want to thank these elves, but – they are not looking at me – and I must not interrupt. I wait. My brothers have moved off now, with their sons and wives, they go, taking the horrible spiders with them. I just sit here, quietly, cuddling my – whatever it is – wondering what its name is – waiting.
Eventually – it seems a long while to me – but I am only small – one of the delegates turns back, and sees me.
“Well, little one,” he says, “What do you think of it, now you have had time to look?”
“It – it is lovely,” I say, and then, “thank you. Thank you very much my lord. But – what is its name? I – I have never seen a creature like it.”
He laughs,
“I do not know its name, that is for you to decide. But it is an oliphaunt. They live in the far south, where it is warm, so they say. I have not been there to see them. Not yet. Perhaps one day,” and he smiles at me, and I – I think I have never seen anyone so kind – “
I don’t like this elf. Whoever he was. I should, he was kind, but I don’t. At all.
“ - because then he says, “maybe you will come with me – what do you think, little one, would you like to travel?”
Of course I would not – I am only a little elfling – I have barely left the palace – only a little way into the Forest, and it is very dangerous, and I have to be very careful – but – he smiles at me so – and I think – maybe it would be nice to pretend – if he would smile some more – he is blond and blue-eyed – and – maybe – he is not so difficult to please as all the Sindar here – he is more like a Silvan. He smiles at me. But before I can say anything – and it is probably a good thing, because I suppose I would have said something of all this, Ada speaks,
“He will never travel, that one. Too much a wood-elf. Legolas, if you have now remembered your manners enough to speak your thanks, you had best go. Discussions and feasts are no place for foolish little elflings.”
I do not say anything, I bow, as I have been taught, and I go.
But oh, I loved that oliphaunt. It went everywhere with me. It was my friend. It – oh it used to stroke my ears with its trunk – and I could stroke its ears – and – and I used to comb it for hours. I suppose it is surprising more of its fur did not fall off.
I was very disappointed to find oliphaunts do not have fur, you know,”
He breaks off, to look at me, and sees I am still torn between tears and laughter,
“What, meleth-nin? You asked if I had toys, I am telling you. I had an oliphaunt. It – I do not think I ever decided if it was a boy or a girl, I do not think it ever occurred to me – it never had a name. Just oliphaunt. But – I was very sad that they do not have fur.”
“Is that why you killed one?” I can’t help asking, “Because you were so cross?”
He glares, and continues,
“I loved it very much. It never argued, or made silly comments when I told it stories.” He prods me in reproof, and I laugh,
“No, and I bet it never kissed you til you couldn’t remember your own name, or did anything else to make you feel so bloody good either,” I say, and he laughs too. Then he looks away from me, and I wonder what is coming, but the next part starts well enough as he says,
“I loved oliphaunt. And – I remember showing it to Ada once. I – that is, I knew he had seen it – when I was given it – but – oh he did – he does love me, Gimli – I remember once – he was working and – I know not why – I had – wandered off – as elflings do – and hidden in his study – just as Tegylwen does to Caradhil – and he was writing something. But he looked – so – sad. I do not know what he was writing – but he stopped, and his glamour faded – I saw his poor face as it is underneath – and he just – sat. Looking at nothing. I watched, and watched, and he did not change. I – he must have been deep in thought – or reverie even, I suppose – because I went quite close to him, and I remember making oliphaunt climb up his robes – just tiptoeing – I did not want to make him angry – but then – I thought – he looked so sad – and I thought how nice oliphaunt always felt when I was sad – and so I made oliphaunt just – gently – stroke – not his ears – never his ears – but his face, and I said ‘Look Ada, oliphaunt likes you.’”
Even though he is smiling, I am tense, waiting for the outcome. Somehow, somehow, I don’t quite believe in this loving father. Something is going to go wrong in this story. I can’t bring myself to ask. Bad enough to think – yes, I have seen Tegylwen hide in Caradhil’s study –and in seconds he has heard her voice, and sought her out, and she is on his lap, chattering away to him, and whatever he was doing is forgotten. Still don’t trust him, don’t like him, but – he is a good father. How could any not hear any elfling? They are perpetually singing.
Perhaps this one was very quiet, I think. But – to fear his father would be angry? I can’t imagine he was a clinging, pestering child. At least, I can’t imagine he ever had the chance to be.
Anyway.
“I know he heard me, and even though I was on the poor scarred side of his face he was not cross, for he touched oliphaunt, he smiled. He even – he reached down and – he stroked my hair. He did not look at me, he was still far away, but – we stayed like that a while. And then – there was a noise outside, and he moved away, and – then he said “off you go, ion-nin, Ada is working.” I went – of course I went – but – I never forgot. He showed he loved me that day.
Oliphaunt remembered. It used to remind me, when things were bad, when I was – sad. They have good memories you know. I read that somewhere.
That is the only time I saw Ada’s poor face. He keeps it hidden – always. But he let me see him then, he was glad I was there. Ada does love me. In his own way.”
I take his hand again, and I don’t say – really? That was you he was thinking of was it, your voice he heard, your hand and toy he felt, not your dead brother, if he was in reverie, if you were on his blind side? – I don’t think that would be kind.
“I know,” I say instead, “of course he does. It is just so different to – the way dwarves are. That is all. But – what happened to oliphaunt?” I ask, and then realise – I probably shouldn’t.
He swallows, and – oh shit – this is going to be one of those bits of his past I don’t want to hear. Please, I think, please let it just have fallen apart because it was old. Miserable enough forerunner of our future though that will be, I think it would be better than some of the other ends I can imagine.
He looks away, and then begins again,
“I do not remember how old I was – but – quite small still. I – I had not learnt to ride. Nor to keep away from my brothers.
They found me with oliphaunt. I – I had wandered a bit – away from the palace – I wanted to be – I do not know – a proper elf – in the Forest. And oliphaunt came too. Of course. And – we were curled up somewhere – and – they found us – and – they took it – and – I think they thought it was funny. They were playing. They were only playing. They did not mean to hurt. But – oliphaunt was old, and when they threw it – up into the trees – over and over – it – it fell apart – and – and they said – it was dead – and – they – they would not listen – I – I thought – if I could only take it – my – one of my Silvans – would have helped me mend it. It had been mended quite a lot already by then – I loved it so – but – they just kept saying it was dead – and so – they made a little fire – to burn it, as we burn our dead.
And I cried.
And they laughed. They – they said if I cared that much – maybe I should follow it – and they made as though they would put me on the fire. I do not suppose they really would have – and if they had – it was only a small fire – I would not have been badly hurt. But – I was frightened.
So I ran. I ran and ran.
And then I was lost.
But – there was a bush – it looked – friendly – so I went under it. I thought – I do not know what I thought. It just – seemed a kind sort of bush.”
Bloody elves, I think.
“So – I do not know how long I was under the bush. I just remember crying and crying for oliphaunt. And then running out of tears, and just – lying there. I probably was not even singing anymore.”
He sighs, and then – of all things – he smiles and,
“But then – then there was a Silvan. And he reached out his hand. He could see me, but he did not come chasing after me, he just reached out his hand and said ‘Come out, little one, it is quite safe. No-one will harm you. Come to Caradhil.’
Then the world without oliphaunt was not quite so bleak. He let me hold his hand, he took me on a horse – I had never been on a horse before – he held me safe – and – and he combed me. I suppose I was a mess. I would have been in a lot of trouble if I had been seen like that. But he combed me.”
He looks at me and colours,
“That is the only time he ever combed me alone, and – it was necessary. You – you understand? You are not cross?”
“Oh elf,” I say, “how could I be cross? Poor little thing. Shit, no wonder you give your land so easily to Caradhil. But – I would dearly like to pay back your brothers some of this pain.”
He shrugs,
“What good would that do? I do not care now. Besides – there was more than one Silvan in those woods. When I came back to my room, someone – I never knew who – had rescued oliphaunt, and mended it. I knew then – I should not have run away. I was afraid but – I should not have run. I should have fought for my lov – my oliphaunt. It was never the same, scarred, but – that did not matter to me. It still knew me, it still was someone to touch ears with and comb. I had it a long time, I – I would be ashamed to admit just how long, how old I was when it finally fell apart beyond rescuing and I – I could not burn it – I found a little cave for it to lie at peace in. But – I did love that oliphaunt.”
He is pink to the ear-tips now, and I wonder just how old he was, and how many of his Silvans knew – not just this, but the story, his brothers. I wonder if that is why those brothers are not loved in his Forest.
They would have been adults. Married. With elflings of their own. And they did that to him. Took his only toy, his only comfort, ruined it, burnt it, tried to hurt him – I don’t believe it was such a tiny fire as would not hurt. In my experience of fires, they all hurt, and I was an inquisitive dwarrowling once.
How could they do this?
How could his father not know?
I suppose none knew how to tell the king of the behaviour of the princes.
But – poor little thing. Oh my poor love.
“We will look in Dale,” I say, “I daresay it came from Khazad-dum originally, if the Lorien elves brought it. Dwarf-made. And if they have some for sale, I will buy one for you, and one for every bloody elfling or dwarrowling you wish.” If not, I will bloody well find a toy-maker, and have them make you the most cuddly oliphaunt there has ever been – and one for every child you know. And, I think, I will try harder to be nice to your Caradhil. He deserves better of me, than the jealous dislike I am apt to show him. Without him, your life would indeed have been truly miserable.
As he laughs, and curls down next to me, his head on my shoulder, his hands wandering through hair and beard, as I touch the pretty ear I can reach, and – hold him very close, I try not to think that one day, one day I will be not just scarred, and changed, but will fall apart beyond rescuing. That one day, my poor beloved elf, you will have to lie me down in a cave, and leave me.
But I know that I hope Caradhil, or another of your Silvans, will be there for you that day.