Day 29 - The Birds and the Trees
Aug. 29th, 2024 08:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grundyscribblingTitle: The Birds and the Trees
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Even now, the differences between California and Arda can still surprise.
Word Count: 1135
Elwing couldn’t help the smile.
Anariel was like a little girl, bouncing all around from one new to her sight to the next. She might number among Middle-earth’s greatest warriors, but right now she was Aman’s best audience, giving Uncle Belthil a rare chance to show off.
“That one?”
“Nienna’s blossom.”
Her mother’s brother had become an expert in the plants and animals of this area – too much time with nothing in particular to do, he claimed.
“That one?”
“Blue Queen’s Bait.”
Anariel was eager to learn, and seemed to think she needed to try to catch up on all of it in one trip.
“What? Why?”
“There’s a moth that lays its eggs only on that plant.”
“Why Blue Queen?”
“Wait until you see it.”
“It’s very impressive,” Elwing put in. “It’s the size of your hand and bright blue.”
Anariel glanced at her hand.
“With the fingers spread,” Uncle corrected.
Anariel’s eyes widened slightly.
“Gives some of those big ones in the Greenwood a run for their money,” she exclaimed.
“Wait until you see the butterfly swarms here,” Legolas put in. “Better even than the irises above the canopy.”
Anariel’s head swiveled toward him in astonishment and what looked to be disbelief.
“No way.”
She had reverted to what Elwing had learned from Tinu was a mode of speech in California.
“Ah, you showed her the spring swarm?”
Uncle Oropher sounded inordinately pleased.
“Once she learned how to climb trees,” Legolas laughed, ducking a half-hearted punch Elwing knew hadn’t been intended to connect. “That took some years.”
“The only trees in California that tall are redwoods,” Anariel informed them indignantly. “And they were not for climbing.”
Looks of bemusement greeted that statement, even from Arador and Sololindo, who being Noldorin and sea-Lindarin respectively had far less experience with climbing than the rest of the party, but did still know how.
“Why would a tree not be for climbing?” Uncle Belthil asked.
Anariel looked equally bemused at the question.
“By the time they get to be a decent size, the lowest branches on redwoods are rangar above what even an elf can jump,” she said, generously sharing a memory of a misty forest of tall trees, all of which gave the impression of age. “If you want to climb them, you’d need ropes and pulleys, and given it’s California, safety gear. Probably permits, too – not just anyone was allowed to climb them, for the trees’ protection.”
The notion that trees needed to be kept safe from climbers was an odd one, even if the Lindar would normally be all in favor of protecting trees.
“What of the birds and animals that lived in these protected trees?” Uncle Oropher asked.
Anariel flushed.
“I’m not really sure. Golden eagles, I think? Squirrels, deer, snakes…the usual woodland creatures for that part of the world. I don’t think there were any particularly unusual types. Rainbow trout in the streams.”
Catching their surprise, she sighed.
“We lived in a city. A city that was in a stretch of cities. There were a few in the botanic gardens in our city, but you would have gotten kicked out if you tried to climb them. If we wanted to see redwoods that weren’t in a botanic garden, we had to travel.”
“How far?” Arador asked, sounding halfway between curious and horrified.
“Um…”
Anariel was clearly struggling for an equivalent, or at least one that everyone present would understand.
“From the river to the Forest Gate to get to the closest wild ones?” she offered hesitantly. “I think the rest were further north.”
That appeared to make sense to Legolas, at the least.
“But what sort of trees did you have close by?” Uncle Brethil asked. “That were not in gardens, and you could properly speak to and touch? There must have been some.”
“Palm trees,” Anariel replied. “Also not conducive to climbing. Some oaks, those would be good climbers but they were mostly in parks. Alder. Cottonwood – I think I climbed some of those when I was a kid. Cedar. Fruit trees. Oh, and a bunch of different kinds of pine, but most of those were way too bendy to climb.”
Looking around at the expressions, she gave them a wry smile.
“Most people in California don’t climb trees. Children do, but usually as they grow up, they stop.”
This concept was mystifying to the elves who hadn’t known any Men.
“Men are heavy,” Legolas explained, taking some of the attention from Anariel. “And most of them have never been taught properly about trees.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Anariel muttered.
“What of birds?” Sololindo asked.
“Oh, there were lots,” Anariel said, brightening at once. “Lots of hummingbirds…um, I think they’re called jewelbirds here?”
She shared an array of memories of the brightly colored creatures, which had clearly been childhood favorites.
“Lots of seabirds,” she continued, “because we weren’t that far from the ocean. Wading birds, hawks, eagles, kits, owls, woodpeckers… honestly, you’d probably do better asking Nana. She probably knows lots of them. I can only tell you what type they are.”
Celebrían, as it happened, did not often speak of California. This might be a new approach. The girls’ kin were all very curious about that strange world, which didn’t sound any less strange for hearing that one had to travel to see trees.
Anariel seemed less than comfortable with the subject.
There is far more to that world than she has told anyone, Grandmother Melian whispered. There was much sorrow and pain there.
Elwing suppressed a frown.
Pressing her about it, particularly so soon, would be a mistake. Her smallest granddaughter had bloomed in the relaxed environment of the Alqualondë coast. She shouldn’t associate journeys inland with being questioned about unpleasant memories. That would be the best way to ensure she would avoid a repeat.
“Look, darling, you said you were fond of jewelbirds, there’s an iris jewelbird on the trumpet-of-Eönwë.”
Anariel brightened – two parts genuine interest to one part relief, if Elwing was any judge.
“You can sing to them, you know,” Sololindo offered, having picked up on the underlying tension. “Listen…”
He demonstrated, to Anariel’s amusement.
“You sound like you’re playing a video game,” she giggled. “Or talking to R2-D2 in a very high pitch.”
With that, they were off on another California tangent, but one that didn’t seem to upset Anariel. Sololindo and Arador were evidently already aware of the epic of the War of the Stars, but it was new to everyone else, and required much explanation.
Elwing had witnessed diversion tactics often enough to know one when she saw it. But she let this one run – not least because she could tell her grandmother was listening in. And unlike the rest, Melian might well glean more than Anariel meant to let on.
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Disclaimer: All belongs to Whedon & Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Even now, the differences between California and Arda can still surprise.
Word Count: 1135
Elwing couldn’t help the smile.
Anariel was like a little girl, bouncing all around from one new to her sight to the next. She might number among Middle-earth’s greatest warriors, but right now she was Aman’s best audience, giving Uncle Belthil a rare chance to show off.
“That one?”
“Nienna’s blossom.”
Her mother’s brother had become an expert in the plants and animals of this area – too much time with nothing in particular to do, he claimed.
“That one?”
“Blue Queen’s Bait.”
Anariel was eager to learn, and seemed to think she needed to try to catch up on all of it in one trip.
“What? Why?”
“There’s a moth that lays its eggs only on that plant.”
“Why Blue Queen?”
“Wait until you see it.”
“It’s very impressive,” Elwing put in. “It’s the size of your hand and bright blue.”
Anariel glanced at her hand.
“With the fingers spread,” Uncle corrected.
Anariel’s eyes widened slightly.
“Gives some of those big ones in the Greenwood a run for their money,” she exclaimed.
“Wait until you see the butterfly swarms here,” Legolas put in. “Better even than the irises above the canopy.”
Anariel’s head swiveled toward him in astonishment and what looked to be disbelief.
“No way.”
She had reverted to what Elwing had learned from Tinu was a mode of speech in California.
“Ah, you showed her the spring swarm?”
Uncle Oropher sounded inordinately pleased.
“Once she learned how to climb trees,” Legolas laughed, ducking a half-hearted punch Elwing knew hadn’t been intended to connect. “That took some years.”
“The only trees in California that tall are redwoods,” Anariel informed them indignantly. “And they were not for climbing.”
Looks of bemusement greeted that statement, even from Arador and Sololindo, who being Noldorin and sea-Lindarin respectively had far less experience with climbing than the rest of the party, but did still know how.
“Why would a tree not be for climbing?” Uncle Belthil asked.
Anariel looked equally bemused at the question.
“By the time they get to be a decent size, the lowest branches on redwoods are rangar above what even an elf can jump,” she said, generously sharing a memory of a misty forest of tall trees, all of which gave the impression of age. “If you want to climb them, you’d need ropes and pulleys, and given it’s California, safety gear. Probably permits, too – not just anyone was allowed to climb them, for the trees’ protection.”
The notion that trees needed to be kept safe from climbers was an odd one, even if the Lindar would normally be all in favor of protecting trees.
“What of the birds and animals that lived in these protected trees?” Uncle Oropher asked.
Anariel flushed.
“I’m not really sure. Golden eagles, I think? Squirrels, deer, snakes…the usual woodland creatures for that part of the world. I don’t think there were any particularly unusual types. Rainbow trout in the streams.”
Catching their surprise, she sighed.
“We lived in a city. A city that was in a stretch of cities. There were a few in the botanic gardens in our city, but you would have gotten kicked out if you tried to climb them. If we wanted to see redwoods that weren’t in a botanic garden, we had to travel.”
“How far?” Arador asked, sounding halfway between curious and horrified.
“Um…”
Anariel was clearly struggling for an equivalent, or at least one that everyone present would understand.
“From the river to the Forest Gate to get to the closest wild ones?” she offered hesitantly. “I think the rest were further north.”
That appeared to make sense to Legolas, at the least.
“But what sort of trees did you have close by?” Uncle Brethil asked. “That were not in gardens, and you could properly speak to and touch? There must have been some.”
“Palm trees,” Anariel replied. “Also not conducive to climbing. Some oaks, those would be good climbers but they were mostly in parks. Alder. Cottonwood – I think I climbed some of those when I was a kid. Cedar. Fruit trees. Oh, and a bunch of different kinds of pine, but most of those were way too bendy to climb.”
Looking around at the expressions, she gave them a wry smile.
“Most people in California don’t climb trees. Children do, but usually as they grow up, they stop.”
This concept was mystifying to the elves who hadn’t known any Men.
“Men are heavy,” Legolas explained, taking some of the attention from Anariel. “And most of them have never been taught properly about trees.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Anariel muttered.
“What of birds?” Sololindo asked.
“Oh, there were lots,” Anariel said, brightening at once. “Lots of hummingbirds…um, I think they’re called jewelbirds here?”
She shared an array of memories of the brightly colored creatures, which had clearly been childhood favorites.
“Lots of seabirds,” she continued, “because we weren’t that far from the ocean. Wading birds, hawks, eagles, kits, owls, woodpeckers… honestly, you’d probably do better asking Nana. She probably knows lots of them. I can only tell you what type they are.”
Celebrían, as it happened, did not often speak of California. This might be a new approach. The girls’ kin were all very curious about that strange world, which didn’t sound any less strange for hearing that one had to travel to see trees.
Anariel seemed less than comfortable with the subject.
There is far more to that world than she has told anyone, Grandmother Melian whispered. There was much sorrow and pain there.
Elwing suppressed a frown.
Pressing her about it, particularly so soon, would be a mistake. Her smallest granddaughter had bloomed in the relaxed environment of the Alqualondë coast. She shouldn’t associate journeys inland with being questioned about unpleasant memories. That would be the best way to ensure she would avoid a repeat.
“Look, darling, you said you were fond of jewelbirds, there’s an iris jewelbird on the trumpet-of-Eönwë.”
Anariel brightened – two parts genuine interest to one part relief, if Elwing was any judge.
“You can sing to them, you know,” Sololindo offered, having picked up on the underlying tension. “Listen…”
He demonstrated, to Anariel’s amusement.
“You sound like you’re playing a video game,” she giggled. “Or talking to R2-D2 in a very high pitch.”
With that, they were off on another California tangent, but one that didn’t seem to upset Anariel. Sololindo and Arador were evidently already aware of the epic of the War of the Stars, but it was new to everyone else, and required much explanation.
Elwing had witnessed diversion tactics often enough to know one when she saw it. But she let this one run – not least because she could tell her grandmother was listening in. And unlike the rest, Melian might well glean more than Anariel meant to let on.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-22 03:38 am (UTC)Thank you for the chapter.
no subject
Date: 2024-10-28 01:07 am (UTC)Melian, like so many grandmothers, doesn't mind meddling for good cause when it's her doing it, but takes a dimmer view of others attempting the same...and she's decided a subtle touch is needed with her granddaughter who chose maia.