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The Lost History of Nierestel

Author?s note:

It sometimes happens that after years of shadowed facts and shaded vision there emerges newfound knowledge of the older things and peoples and places. The dust rises from the myths, the fog wafts softly away, the scales fall from the eyes of the student and into the light old truths come for modern inspection. Often have forgotten things been found anew, more by steadfast heart than any other consideration. This story is of such a nature. Long lost and forgotten as ought not have been, it has come forth.

The author of The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien, did not in his time see this tale save but in limited view as afforded by tradition and generally accepted history. Had he seen the story in its entirety, his tales may have been altered or expanded to include the unusual before you. The story itself has scarce effect on the events of Tolkien?s masterpiece. That as it were, it is still a story worth telling.

This, The Lost History of Nierestel, will complete the tale told in Lord of the Rings. It offers no great visions of Middle Earth and the War of the Ring, only a gaze at the life of another character previously unexplained and unexplored who, though very small, did a great many things, did them well, and did them to the edification of the several others. Without further ado, the tale begins.


CHAPTER ONE: The Blossom and the Tittawen
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Celebrant had recently been to Rivendell on communication with Lord Elrond on behalf of the Lady of Lorien, his mistress. His task completed, he now found himself having halved the return journey. His horse took him not swifly nor too slow, but a right pace, and he would reach home in only another three days, for being an elf of his purpose he ceased not at night to ride onward.

Celebrant?s elf-ears heard a noise in the distancea few leagues, but he could not be sure of its nature or origin. As he continued onward, it continued to grow but was still soft. He continued another four leagues when suddenly his horse whinnied and stepped back. Celebrant lowered his eyes from their lofty gaze and glanced about, speaking softly to his horse as he did: ?Hush, there. What do you see, friend?? Though his elf-eyes were sharp they nearly missed the small dirtied bundle hidden in the shadows between two tree roots. Discerning that itwas that which emitted the sound he?d been hearing for a while, Celebrant dismounted and moved to the tree. Bending down, he picked up the tiny swaddling, and pulled back a corner. He gasped. The sound stopped and he found himself held fixedly by a gaze that captivated him.

?Who are you, little one? And how is it that you are so small, and all alone?? The tiny infant, a creature who despite Celebrant?s broad knowledge he could not name, reached gently up. He placed his long slim finger in the tiny curved ones. ?There is naught to do but take you to my mistress.?

His tiny companion nestled safely in a makeshift haversack, and himself seated on his mount, Celebrant continued on his way to Lorien.
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Celeborn was looking out over a lovely wood when an elf approached.

?Sir,? began the young messenger.

?Yes??

?My master Morion the gardener bid me bring you this flower. He discovered it this morning.? The boy held out a flower to his lord, who took it.

?Thank you, Ainu. It is beautiful. What is it called??

?My master renders such choice to you and the Lady of the Galadhon.?

?Thank Morion for me. She shall choose, for I have not the skill in naming.?

?Yes, sir.?

?One last thing, before you go, young elf. Are there many of these newfound flowers among your gardens??

?Several, sir, but not many. They look to be hardy, as Morion tells me, and he will try to grow more, for they are very lovely, and their color so rare.?

?Indeed it is. You may go now.?

?Thank you, my lord Celeborn,? Ainu replied, then left.

Galadriel appeared in all her shimmering raiment. ?Counsel so early, Celeborn??

?Not cousel,? he said, turning towards her, the flower against his breast, ?but a gift.? He held it out to her.

She took the red blossom in her hands, gently brought it to her face, and breathed deeply. ??Tis a beautiful flower,? she said after a moment, and one I?ve not seen before. I wonder that it should arise now.?

?As do I,? her husband agreed. ?Morion sent it that it should be named.?

?And what shall I call it, you ask??

?Indeed, for such as this deserves a worthy name, which I am not apt to give as well as you.? She laughed some at that.

?It smells of sweetness, of honey, and yet has blossomed before many such other flowers. It?s hue is bright and glad, yet somewhat melancholy, for it soaks light into its depths with little return.? She pondered. ?What do you think, Celeborn??

?I think it to be a hopeful thing; coming so early in season has shown it to be thus.?

?Estel, then, ?hope.? But I think it not a proper name for a flower, and it?s scent is so that it begs recognition. I shall call it nierestel, a proper name for this honey-sweet, hopeful flower.?

?It is well said. I shall notify Morion of your choice.

?Celebrant returns today, Galadriel.?

?I feel he bears more than from Elrond.?

?What do you sense?? Celeborn questioned with some concern.

She laughed a little, like a twinkling bell. ?Worry not, my lord. What he bears I know not, but I sense it is nothing we need fear.?

?So he brings something unusual to us then??

?Only time reveals.?

?We shall wait then. I see he comes before noon.?

?He does.?
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Celebrant looked down again at his sleeping companion. The sun was nearing its zenith and he had finally arrived at Caras Galadhon. Nearing the edge of the woodland tree-city, he sighed at its beauty, so familiar and so awesome.

He halted his horse and breathed deeply. Looking downward again, he saw the blinking eyes of the small one against his breast, for the lack of movement had awakened her.

?We have arrived, tittawen (?little maiden?). Soon you shall meet my mistress, the Lady Galadriel. I see you waked. It is well. We shall find out what you are soon; the Lady will know.?
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?Mae govannen, Celeborn,? came a cheerful voice. ?You have returned.?

?Indeed I have. Mae govannen, Manevaryar.? He dismounted gently and the elves approached each other.

?And you come with unknown burden. To whom do you speak there??

?I found this tittawen three day ago.? He pulled down the edge of the cloth to show the tiny child. Manevaryar?s eyes grew wide as he looked at her.

?This is a most unusual finding. Come, I shall send someone to care for your horse. You must take her to the Lady.?

?I shall at once.?
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?Celebrant returns,? announced the attendant. Galadriel and Celeborn looked up to see the announced enter with an unusual gear over his chest and wrapped around his back.

?Welcome home,? the Lady greeted. Celebrant bowed, then took another step.

?I bring reply from the Lord Elrond.? He brought up his hand, which held a letter. Galadriel took the letter, then gracefully put it aside.

?I expect you have some other business?? she asked.

?Indeed I have,? he replied, gently removing the makeshift haversack. He held the bundle carefully in his arm as he pulled the cloth away. ?I found her in the wood three day ago; I could discern few recent marks and did not know what to make of her. I could not leave her, for she is yet a babe, and so I bring her to you.?

Galadriel stepped closer, as did Celeborn, and gazed at the small one. She gave a gentle, pretentious smile and took her into her arms. The child giggled some as the Lady cooed to her. The gourd-sized girl smiled and blinked.

?This is as sweet treasure to have found, Celebrant.?

?Then you know what she is, my Lady??

?Yes. Though I wonder that she was so far from home.?

?What is she, then?? Celebrant asked.

?She is a hole-dweller, a halfling. Her race call themselves ?hobbit.? They live far to the north and west, and I know of few who travel at all, much less this far,? Celeborn replied.

?I have heard of such,? Celebrant said thoughtfully. ?Is there not a one that helped the dwarves??

?That is true. But Bilbo is an elf-friend, as Elrond would have it,? said the lady.

?Shall we send for him then?? Celeborn asked somewhat cautiously.

?I think not,? Galadriel answered slowly. ?She comes to us for a purpose not yet revealed. She is here now, and here she will remain until the time comes that she is to leave. When that is, I do not know. Until then, she will remain here.?

?It is well, I think,? Celeborn agreed. ?What shall we call her?? Galadriel looked at Celebrant.

?Well, my lady, I had called her ?tittawen? for lack of a better name. She is a sweet babe, though, and deserves a proper name.? Galadriel raised a brow towards her husband, then looked at the smal one in her arms cooing and blinking.

?Sweet she is, and sweet like honey is sweet. And she has much hope to survive as she does. It is the custom of her race to call newborn maids for flowers.? She brought out the recently named blossom. ?We shall call her for this newfound flower. She is now Nierestel, and may she always taste the sweetness of hope.?

??END OF CHAPTER ONE??

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