Therion moves silently, carefully, through the Petra, listening to the soft voices of the stones. They call to him as he passes them, wishing to impart to him their secrets, for they know he appreciates such things. Though he would dearly upendo to do so he does not stop; no...he is searching for something so near his moyo that he dare not even think of it, and he will not be delayed. Elsbet spoke of a 'before-time', when this was but a tiny haven...he hopes to find vitabu set to stone from that time... He is so deep in thought that he arrives at his fondest wish, his heart's one desire at this moment before he even realizes he has reached them. He is in the oldest part of the Petra, where the First Speakers stand. The stone vitabu around him are so very old and time-worn that one can barely read what is inscribed upon them. When the Pyramids of Egypt were new, they were already ancient.
Almost timidly, he walks up the pathway toward a semi-circular area, holding his breath.
The first stone he comes to is not the oldest, but it seems to be in the worst shape. He approaches it as though it were a sleeping person he is loathe to wake, and yet he must. He does so gently, his hand passing over the stone's surface as he whispers "be renewed." It is done at once, its surface free of wear and the words as fresh and crisp as the siku they were inscribed upon the stone. Therion reads greedily, hungrily, and he cherishes every priceless bit of it. This young man had come from afar to visit the Elves and to see the children of Shadowfax, Lord of Horses, and to see for himself proof of Good dragoni in Middle-earth, for stories of them had reached even his land. The Brown Wizard commits every word to memory and promises himself he will pass this on to Elsbet; she will want to know who her noble Marafiki may have come from.
Thanking the stone he rests his head against it, his fingers tracing the final inscription on the stone; the identity of the inscriber. Barahir, Prince of Ithilien. Barahir was the son of Elboron, the only child of Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Éowyn, Shield-maiden of Rohan. Therion wonders if Barahir passed through here after he completed The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen. There is no tarehe inscribed, but the bookmaster knows the Prince wrote their story during the sekunde century of the Fourth Age...
He moves on to the inayofuata stone and sees it is eager to speak with him. He smiles as the stone renews its surface and warms to his touch, and the voice he hears is that of an excited girl. She has traveled all the way from Bag End with her father to ride the special ponies, to listen to the stories the Elves tell, and to see the dragoni they take care of. It's all such a treat for her, the visit and making the book, because her brothers have never done anything like it, and she just can't wait to tell them. Therion sees the faint picha imprinted with the words, just as he did on Barahir's stone; a visual record of what they saw and did. He wishes he could see the little girl's face, though he is grateful he can see her father's. The book is inscribed with the name Lily Gamgee, and he knows she was one of Samwise Gamgee's granddaughters.
He knows too that when he gets nyumbani today he will have a great deal of work to do...
He thanks the stone, then moves on to the other two on the opposite side of the small, semi-circular clearing. He does not recognize the names of the inscribers, but he figures they must have been here around the same time Barahir and Lily Gamgee were, for they say they came for the same reasons; the Elves, the farasi and the Dragons. He commits the inscriptions to memory and thanks the stones, and while he is grateful to have found these, he realizes now that they were not exactly what he was hoping for. Sighing, he steps out of the clearing, and as he does he sees there are two zaidi stones, set on the other side of the paving stones around the clearing and close to two great trees.
As he goes to them, his moyo races. Could they be what he'd hoped for? Yes, and no.
The language on the first of the two stones he recognizes immediately is Sindarin, and the language on the sekunde is Dwarvish. His hands tremble as he touches them, and at once, their inner voices fill his mind. They speak in turn, and as he listens they are like old Marafiki sharing a poignant goodbye. They tell of the greatness and goodness of the Ranger who became King, and of the Lady he loved; they tell of the War they waged against the Dark Lord and how a man small in stature but great in moyo defeated him. They tell how the two of them became as brothers, in spite of all the hard feelings between their peoples, and how their friendship changed them all for the better. They say that King Elessar has aliyopewa up his life, and that his Lady Arwen has passed into her old land, and that they have chosen to take their leave of Middle-earth...there is nothing zaidi to hold them here. A ship awaits them in the Grey Havens to take them to the Undying Lands; they wished to come to Perethil, this place of peace, to visit their relatives who dwell within. They both express a hope that this place will endure as a shelter for those in need, and that all they have done will never be forgotten.
The stones are inscribed with the names Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli Elf-friend, Son of Glóin. Therion knows Aragorn King Elessar died, and the two Marafiki departed Middle-earth, in the 120th mwaka of the Fourth Age. So these are the oldest of the Stone Books, those of Barahir and Lily Gamgee the inayofuata oldest, and the other two were left about the same time. As he thanks these ancient tomes he weeps; they are precious to him, and yet, he had hoped for more.
He backs away from the stones, wiping his face, and wonders what to do next. That's when he hears the voice.
"Why do wewe cry? You've found something priceless, something no one of the Wizarding World has ever seen. You're incredibly fortunate." Therion nods, and opens his mouth to speak, then realizes there shouldn't be anyone else here. He looks around but sees no one, at first. From behind Gimil's stone steps a figure that strikes Therion as uncomfortably familiar, yet he knows he's never seen this person before. "Who...who are you?" The man is tall and slender, handsome, and dressed in complementary shades of brown and green. His long, wavy hair is the same color as his own, and even the color of his eyes are the same. "Whom do wewe believe me to be?" Therion actually laughs and forgets himself. "I've no idea!" The figure moves and Therion realizes he can see the trees through him.
"Descendants, really..." the spectral man looks up and sighs, feigning indignancy, and Therion straightens immediately. "Radagast?" His breath catches in his throat, but the figure laughs and he deflates. The man clutches his staff and smiles winningly, then tells Therion, "not hardly. He is on your mother's side, while I am on your father's. wewe were named for me, in fact." They look at each other for a long time, until finally the figure says, "I am Therion Eagledown, your great--well, nevermind how many greats there are...I'm your grandfather. I've been here a very long time watching over the stones, waiting for wewe to come." He tips his staff at the surprised bookmaster and tells him, "I know what wewe were hoping to find. A stone left kwa Radagast." The younger Therion nods. "Yes, just something to say that he had been here."
The elder Therion motions for him to follow. "Here," he says, "this is what wewe need to see." He goes around behind the stone vitabu and heads in the direction his wispy grandfather is pointing. There, in the nyasi and nestled comfortably between two trees is a round, flat stone. It is inscribed with the names Gandalf, Alatar, Pallando and Radagast. Four of the Five Istari who came to Middle-earth. "Read the whole thing," the elder says, then translates for his grandson when the younger wizard has problems with the obscure language. "They set this as a sacred, protected place shortly after they arrived here. It was the last thing they did together." Therion looks up at his grandfather. "Why? What happened to Alatar and Pallando? I've always wondered..."
The spirit sighs. "They departed these parts and traveled into the east with Saruman, but only Saruman returned." Therion rises slowly, but the spectral ancestor can see the idea forming in his grandson's mind. "Therry, let it go. Let it go for now. There are much zaidi important things for wewe to think about right now." He makes a gesture as if to touch his namesake, then says, "I didn't onyesha wewe that to make wewe sad. It was what wewe had hoped to find. Proof that Radagast had been here." Therion nods and smiles softly. "When I come back here, will I see wewe again?" The spirit wizard shakes his head. "We get one shot. I'm just glad I finally got mine. Therion Bonecastle, wewe are a credit to your family. Never forget that I am a part of you, and that I am always with you." He feels something very slight on his cheek as the spirit looks into his eyes.
"I can see my daughter in your face," the spirit says, and after what seems an eternity, he tells his grandson it's time for him to go. "Your wolf-friend will need help, I think, when he emerges. He needs wewe zaidi than wewe know." With great difficulty, Therion turns away from his distant grandfather and finds he must fight the urge to look back as he passes out of the Petra. As he emerges, Dance, Sing and three other Silhouettes are awaiting him with chakula and drink, and Dance asks him how it went. Therion tells them everything, and they share both his joy and his sadness. "He loves wewe very much, your Ancestor," Sing says as they head back to the Teller's Court together. "When wewe can come back, we will onyesha wewe where he is buried." Therion looks at her, wanting to go right now, but they laugh at him. 'I think you've had enough for one day, my friend," Jade says.
Lovely muziki greets the group when they near the Teller's Court, and Therion smiles to see Malfoy learning how to play the sitar. As he sits down beside the White Wizard and gathers his beloved Familiar into his arms, he thinks this is a perfect way to end his visit, with laughter and song.
Almost timidly, he walks up the pathway toward a semi-circular area, holding his breath.
The first stone he comes to is not the oldest, but it seems to be in the worst shape. He approaches it as though it were a sleeping person he is loathe to wake, and yet he must. He does so gently, his hand passing over the stone's surface as he whispers "be renewed." It is done at once, its surface free of wear and the words as fresh and crisp as the siku they were inscribed upon the stone. Therion reads greedily, hungrily, and he cherishes every priceless bit of it. This young man had come from afar to visit the Elves and to see the children of Shadowfax, Lord of Horses, and to see for himself proof of Good dragoni in Middle-earth, for stories of them had reached even his land. The Brown Wizard commits every word to memory and promises himself he will pass this on to Elsbet; she will want to know who her noble Marafiki may have come from.
Thanking the stone he rests his head against it, his fingers tracing the final inscription on the stone; the identity of the inscriber. Barahir, Prince of Ithilien. Barahir was the son of Elboron, the only child of Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Éowyn, Shield-maiden of Rohan. Therion wonders if Barahir passed through here after he completed The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen. There is no tarehe inscribed, but the bookmaster knows the Prince wrote their story during the sekunde century of the Fourth Age...
He moves on to the inayofuata stone and sees it is eager to speak with him. He smiles as the stone renews its surface and warms to his touch, and the voice he hears is that of an excited girl. She has traveled all the way from Bag End with her father to ride the special ponies, to listen to the stories the Elves tell, and to see the dragoni they take care of. It's all such a treat for her, the visit and making the book, because her brothers have never done anything like it, and she just can't wait to tell them. Therion sees the faint picha imprinted with the words, just as he did on Barahir's stone; a visual record of what they saw and did. He wishes he could see the little girl's face, though he is grateful he can see her father's. The book is inscribed with the name Lily Gamgee, and he knows she was one of Samwise Gamgee's granddaughters.
He knows too that when he gets nyumbani today he will have a great deal of work to do...
He thanks the stone, then moves on to the other two on the opposite side of the small, semi-circular clearing. He does not recognize the names of the inscribers, but he figures they must have been here around the same time Barahir and Lily Gamgee were, for they say they came for the same reasons; the Elves, the farasi and the Dragons. He commits the inscriptions to memory and thanks the stones, and while he is grateful to have found these, he realizes now that they were not exactly what he was hoping for. Sighing, he steps out of the clearing, and as he does he sees there are two zaidi stones, set on the other side of the paving stones around the clearing and close to two great trees.
As he goes to them, his moyo races. Could they be what he'd hoped for? Yes, and no.
The language on the first of the two stones he recognizes immediately is Sindarin, and the language on the sekunde is Dwarvish. His hands tremble as he touches them, and at once, their inner voices fill his mind. They speak in turn, and as he listens they are like old Marafiki sharing a poignant goodbye. They tell of the greatness and goodness of the Ranger who became King, and of the Lady he loved; they tell of the War they waged against the Dark Lord and how a man small in stature but great in moyo defeated him. They tell how the two of them became as brothers, in spite of all the hard feelings between their peoples, and how their friendship changed them all for the better. They say that King Elessar has aliyopewa up his life, and that his Lady Arwen has passed into her old land, and that they have chosen to take their leave of Middle-earth...there is nothing zaidi to hold them here. A ship awaits them in the Grey Havens to take them to the Undying Lands; they wished to come to Perethil, this place of peace, to visit their relatives who dwell within. They both express a hope that this place will endure as a shelter for those in need, and that all they have done will never be forgotten.
The stones are inscribed with the names Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli Elf-friend, Son of Glóin. Therion knows Aragorn King Elessar died, and the two Marafiki departed Middle-earth, in the 120th mwaka of the Fourth Age. So these are the oldest of the Stone Books, those of Barahir and Lily Gamgee the inayofuata oldest, and the other two were left about the same time. As he thanks these ancient tomes he weeps; they are precious to him, and yet, he had hoped for more.
He backs away from the stones, wiping his face, and wonders what to do next. That's when he hears the voice.
"Why do wewe cry? You've found something priceless, something no one of the Wizarding World has ever seen. You're incredibly fortunate." Therion nods, and opens his mouth to speak, then realizes there shouldn't be anyone else here. He looks around but sees no one, at first. From behind Gimil's stone steps a figure that strikes Therion as uncomfortably familiar, yet he knows he's never seen this person before. "Who...who are you?" The man is tall and slender, handsome, and dressed in complementary shades of brown and green. His long, wavy hair is the same color as his own, and even the color of his eyes are the same. "Whom do wewe believe me to be?" Therion actually laughs and forgets himself. "I've no idea!" The figure moves and Therion realizes he can see the trees through him.
"Descendants, really..." the spectral man looks up and sighs, feigning indignancy, and Therion straightens immediately. "Radagast?" His breath catches in his throat, but the figure laughs and he deflates. The man clutches his staff and smiles winningly, then tells Therion, "not hardly. He is on your mother's side, while I am on your father's. wewe were named for me, in fact." They look at each other for a long time, until finally the figure says, "I am Therion Eagledown, your great--well, nevermind how many greats there are...I'm your grandfather. I've been here a very long time watching over the stones, waiting for wewe to come." He tips his staff at the surprised bookmaster and tells him, "I know what wewe were hoping to find. A stone left kwa Radagast." The younger Therion nods. "Yes, just something to say that he had been here."
The elder Therion motions for him to follow. "Here," he says, "this is what wewe need to see." He goes around behind the stone vitabu and heads in the direction his wispy grandfather is pointing. There, in the nyasi and nestled comfortably between two trees is a round, flat stone. It is inscribed with the names Gandalf, Alatar, Pallando and Radagast. Four of the Five Istari who came to Middle-earth. "Read the whole thing," the elder says, then translates for his grandson when the younger wizard has problems with the obscure language. "They set this as a sacred, protected place shortly after they arrived here. It was the last thing they did together." Therion looks up at his grandfather. "Why? What happened to Alatar and Pallando? I've always wondered..."
The spirit sighs. "They departed these parts and traveled into the east with Saruman, but only Saruman returned." Therion rises slowly, but the spectral ancestor can see the idea forming in his grandson's mind. "Therry, let it go. Let it go for now. There are much zaidi important things for wewe to think about right now." He makes a gesture as if to touch his namesake, then says, "I didn't onyesha wewe that to make wewe sad. It was what wewe had hoped to find. Proof that Radagast had been here." Therion nods and smiles softly. "When I come back here, will I see wewe again?" The spirit wizard shakes his head. "We get one shot. I'm just glad I finally got mine. Therion Bonecastle, wewe are a credit to your family. Never forget that I am a part of you, and that I am always with you." He feels something very slight on his cheek as the spirit looks into his eyes.
"I can see my daughter in your face," the spirit says, and after what seems an eternity, he tells his grandson it's time for him to go. "Your wolf-friend will need help, I think, when he emerges. He needs wewe zaidi than wewe know." With great difficulty, Therion turns away from his distant grandfather and finds he must fight the urge to look back as he passes out of the Petra. As he emerges, Dance, Sing and three other Silhouettes are awaiting him with chakula and drink, and Dance asks him how it went. Therion tells them everything, and they share both his joy and his sadness. "He loves wewe very much, your Ancestor," Sing says as they head back to the Teller's Court together. "When wewe can come back, we will onyesha wewe where he is buried." Therion looks at her, wanting to go right now, but they laugh at him. 'I think you've had enough for one day, my friend," Jade says.
Lovely muziki greets the group when they near the Teller's Court, and Therion smiles to see Malfoy learning how to play the sitar. As he sits down beside the White Wizard and gathers his beloved Familiar into his arms, he thinks this is a perfect way to end his visit, with laughter and song.
