For many years, elflings found my garden to be a delight to play in, and Nerwen was no exception. When I first saw her that morning, she was waiting behind the hedges of my garden with hopes of catching a pair of young elflings off guard. She herself was naught more than a few years older than the two she was hunting, and I watched with interest from my porch as she set her trap, knowing the pair had a penchant for ruining my daffodils and chrysanthemums. As the two elflings walked down the path, she waited until the right moment and pulled a string she had tied to a small tree on the other side of the path, effectively tripping the elflings and sending them into a puddle of mud.
I think she would never have been caught, for her laughter was well-concealed, except that she herself tripped over the watering can she had used to make the mud. I was unable to reach the trio until all three were covered in large amounts of wet earth, grass, twigs, and slime. "Enough of this!" I shouted. "Find another garden to terrorize, and leave me to peace!"
The blonde elfling - the youngest of the three, pointed his chin and sniffed his disdain at being caught, and answered with a loud, "She started it!"
"I care not, Thranduil Oropherion, I am not one of your parents, and thus reserve judging and sentencing to them! Out of my garden, if you please, and if it does not please, I shall remove you myself!" I could have rightly spanked all three if I truly wished, for in Valinor anyone's elflings were everyone's elflings, and were raised in part by all of the elves. My bark is much worse than my bite, however, and I also have a soft spot for those elves who only reach my knee. I believe they suspected this, but yet being unsure, Thranduil hung his head.
"We like your garden, sir, that is why we come here to play."
"You don't swat us with your rake if we trample the flowers on accident," added his dark-haired companion. "And it truly is an accident when it happens!"
"Ehtele Ecthelion-"
"Just Ecthelion," he pointed out to me.
I nodded, respecting his wish. "Just Ecthelion, if it truly were an accident, it would not happen weekly."
He pouted accordingly, and I looked to the ellethling with the silver-gold hair. "To lay in wait like a cat about to pounce mice is not a very lady-like thing for you to do."
Had I known the outcome of my words, I would have sent them on their way sooner. I had not noticed her trembling lip or the tears in her eyes, but the moment I finished my sentence, she let go a wail and clutched her muddied fists to her face as she sobbed.
"Nerwen, we didn't mean to upset you," said Thranduil, truly looking ashamed.
"Yes. Had we known the frog was going to hop out of your porridge and onto you-"
"Out of my garden and to your homes!" I pointed in the direction of their residences and picked up the nearest item, the watering can, and waved it at them. "If I hear of either of you harming another defenseless creature, be it animal or elf, I will not stop myself from striking you!" The threat was idle, but the elflings had not seen such fury from me, and scurried quickly away. For good measure, I threw the watering can at them, but only after I knew they were too far away for it to hit them.
Picking up the young one and carrying her to the house of my neighbor, I only realized after knocking on their door what a frightful mess I was going to look.
"Erestor! It is quite pleasant to see you this fine day." Cirdan looked me up and down and said, "Enjoying your garden, I see!"
"Cirdan, a good day to you. I've had three trespassers this day already and this one..." I did not need to explain further as the lady of the house came outdoors with us and clicked her tongue when she saw the state that Nerwen was in.
"Come, bring her into the house and I shall draw a bath," Nenua said as she led me into the house. The ellethling was quieting now, but she still sniffled and hiccupped and hid her face against my chest. "You can put her down there; I think you'll want to clean yourself up from the looks of things."
I nodded, setting Nerwen onto the wooden chair Nenua had pulled away from the table. "I will return shortly to take her back to her parents," I said, but Nenua waved this notion away.
"Let us see how she is when she is clean," Nenua suggested, pouring a goodly amount of bathing oil into the basin that she was filling with water. "I will send my husband for you if you are needed."
"Thank you, Nenua," I said, and after briefly speaking with Cirdan about pleasantries such as the weather and our respective gardens, though mine looked more and more like a brick pit as the days went by, I took myself home for a bath and allowed myself to soak and relax and forget about silly things like elflings fighting in my garden.
When I finally pulled myself from my watery reverie, I decided to give up on my work for the day and set to fixing a meal for myself. There was nothing extravagant to be found, simple bread and jam and fresh fruits I had brought in from the garden earlier. As I exited to pull up water from the well, I saw Cirdan down the path, leading Nerwen toward my house. Her eyes watched the ground as she walked, looking as if she was on a death march as she came up the way. I had retrieved the water while they made their approach and held the pitcher while standing on my porch as they came up
"Erestor, once more, it is pleasant to see you," Cirdan said. I nodded and we spoke cordially again. Though our conversations may have seemed boring to some, I think we both enjoyed the chance to speak to another elf without cause for debate. So many spoke of dark thoughts, and it puzzled both of us, for we were simple elves really. Our philosophy was so similar, we soon found we had naught to speak of with the exception of weather, for his hobby of sailing depended on such, and plants, for it was my task to tend the orchard that spread out behind my house.
Perhaps I should have made that more clear. I was not a scholar during those years in Valinor, though I did delight in the knowledge drawn from books and from speaking with others. My calling, or so I had thought at the time, was gardening. Put simply, I was a farmer, but all in Valinor in the early times were respected, no matter their rank or culture, and for this reason, my early years in Valinor were in some ways the best years of my life.
When we had finished speaking, Cirdan looked down expectantly at the little elleth. Head bowed in shame, she said in a small voice, "I am sorry I flooded your path and ruined your garden."
"There is no harm done that cannot be fixed," I replied, and even now as I glanced at the path, I saw that it was dry once more.
"I won't ever come to your garden ever again. I promise," she said solemnly.
"That would truly be a shame," I said, "for I happen to like it when my garden is enjoyed by others."
Nerwen nodded, and Cirdan clasped my shoulder. "I must return home, I do not wish to be late for supper. Nenua said you would return Nerwen to her parents?"
I nodded and said, "I myself was just about to eat." I looked at the ellethling and asked her, "When do your parents expect you home?"
She shrugged and answered, "Whenever I get there."
This was not uncommon, for many elves did not worry about their young ones in the safety of Valinor. So many of us watched the youths, and we did not need worry for them. "Come inside with me, then, we can share the meal and I will return you afterwards."
Nerwen hesitated - I suppose there were a good many tales about the wicked looking farmer and that he ate elflings or something to that effect - but she took up a bold stance and willed herself to enter the house. Rolling my eyes at Cirdan, but smiling, and bid him a good day and came inside.
"Where is everything?" she asked as we entered the kitchen.
"Everything what?" I queried back, setting the pitcher on the middle of the table.
"Everything everything. Your furniture, your carpets, your... your... stuff..."
I chuckled. My home was that of a bachelor - simple and adequate. There was very little fanciness to it, though I always thought it a cozy and comfortable place. Pulling a simple chair with no decoration to speak of away from the table for her I said, "This *is* all of my "stuff"."
"Oh." She did not press further, and sat down. Taking the linen napkin from the table, she unfolded it and placed it on her lap and folded her hands in front of her, keeping her elbows from the table.
This puzzled me slightly, how the sneaky little girl I had seen traipsing around with crowds of elflings could be the same sweet looking little elleth that was politely asking me for a glass of water. After I finished setting things up on the table and sat down across from her, she remained silent unless spoken to, and her answers were courteous. Not a crumb strayed from her, and she did not dribble water or lick her fingers as so often I have seen young elves do -- as even I recalled doing to the disdain of my mother!
Through the meal, I had only come to one time when I found need to use her name, and when I did, her nose crinkled. "Is something wrong?" I then asked, thinking she had bit into an unripe fruit.
Shaking her head, she answered, "I wish I was not called Nerwen."
"It is your name, isn't it?"
"It is one of them," she replied. "But I do not like it."
"Why don't you like it?"
Nerwen set down her bread to keep her fingers from fiddling with her food and folded her hands. "I do not like it because of what it means. But I do not want to be a lady, and so, my brothers and playmates call me that."
"I think you will be shocked to know you are a lady, though a very young one, and sometimes a very messy one, a lady you are."
"I know that," she sighed. "But I want to be a ruler of a realm some day, and Thranduil says that elleths can only be queens and that queens do not rule but instead stand by the king and look pretty."
"If we all listened to what Thranduil said, can you imagine the state of things in Valinor?" This produced a small smile from the ellethling, and I continued, saying, "I think anyone can do anything they really, really wish if they set their mind to the task."
"How am I to be a queen with a name so foul as Nerwen?"
I smirked. "It isn't a foul name."
"You don't know what it means," she pouted.
"In fact, I do know. Your mother gave you that name when she saw how tall you were, and how strong and proud of an elleth you would be. I do not think she intended it to be foul."
"You don't know what it is like to have such a foul name," she answered.
Here I smiled, for I do not think she quite even knew my name, for most elflings would call me by 'sir' or by 'lord' as they did with so many of the grown elves. "My name is Erestor."
Nerwen blinked and said, "I don't quite know the meaning of that."
"It means 'lonely and stubborn'."
"That's terrible!" she cried out. She fell silent and then said, "That is a horrible thing to name someone."
"Not if it is true."
For some time we continued in silence, and then a thought occurred to me. "Your father gave you a name when you were born, why not use that name?"
"I have been called Nerwen so long, it will not be easy to change it."
"Well, no, it will not be easy. It is not impossible, though. Artanis."
She tried to keep from smiling, but failed. "If I asked everyone to call me Artanis, it would work." Her face fell. "Oh, but some will not, they will just keep calling me Nerwen for spite."
"What you will need to do, then, is refuse to answer them."
"But..." Artanis looked upon me with a slightly guilty face. "I really do like to play with Thranduil and Ecthelion. And I just know they will keep calling me Nerwen."
"And if they like to play with you, they shall call you Artanis," I reasoned.
Artanis appeared to like the solution I found, and the rest of the meal was much more cheerful. It was when I arrived at her home with her later that my day truly became the sort of day you forever remember.
"Aegnor, are you parents within?" I asked, coming up the path around the gate of the large house. The young one shook his head and looked at his sister oddly.
"You've returned. And clean," he said, with a great amount of surprise.
Nerwen would have stuck her tongue out at him, but Artanis inclined her head. "How else was I to return?"
"Artanis has had a long and busy day. I shall return to speak with your parents later," I turned to leave, but was halted by Angrod, whom I had not seen in the yard.
Angrod studied me severely. "Nerwen, go into the house."
"My name is not Ner--"
"Into the house!"
Artanis stepped back in fear of the change in her brother's voice and hurried up the steps into the house as Aegnor called for their other brothers.
Now, Aegnor and Angrod were both quite formidable elves, and not the type I would have wanted to anger. However, if ever I had, I know I could have bested either, and put up quite a fight if faced with both, inseparable as they were. Orodreth would have been a challenge, and quite honestly, there were few who were a match for Finrod. To be blatantly honest, when all four of them surrounded me, I feared for my very life. What I had done I knew not, but assumed I would be told.
"I have not heard the name of Artanis in many a year," said Angrod to his brothers, "and yet I have heard it now today."
Orodreth seemed to look the friendliest of the brothers at the moment, and so I thought I had better face him to my give explanation. When I had finished, it was Finrod who took charge of the situation.
"Did you suggest her name change or did she?"
"It was my doing," I admitted.
"Do you know of the prophecy placed upon our sister?"
"No," I answered honestly.
"Neither does she. It is said that there is an elf who will rename her. When he renames her, she will have found the other half of her soul, though she will not realize it at first because of her age, she will come to know it in time." Finrod crossed his arms and considered me, looking me up and down and making me rather uncomfortable. "Well, all I can say is, at least it was not Thranduil. Or Ecthelion, for that matter - I was beginning to worry!"
This seemed to be the general consensus among them, and after I was asked not to say anything to their sister of this, and after I was embraced by each of them, I walked home. I walked rather slowly, sorting out my thoughts. Things did not make sense, and yet they seemed to. And one word kept repeating in my mind.
Artanis.
