Gifts of Nature
Celebrimbor stared at his friend as they rode through the lush landscape, the rhythmic sound of hooves and the gentle clopping of Narvi’s pony creating a harmonious backdrop against the tranquil morning air. He and his good friend Narvi, a sturdy Dwarf with a steadfast heart, had been tasked with an ambitious project: to build the hidden door for Khazad-dûm, the famed underground city of the Dwarves. It had been months since they had taken on this challenge, and while the work had initially ignited their imaginations, they now found themselves struggling to devise a mechanism that would both conceal and protect the entrance. With frustration simmering beneath the surface, Celebrimbor’s thoughts drifted as they journeyed toward Himring, still several days away.
“Perhaps we should consider a more elaborate design,” Celebrimbor suggested, his brow furrowing in thought as he adjusted his grip on the reins of his horse. “The door must blend seamlessly into the rock face, but we need a method that will withstand any dark forces that might seek to enter.”
Narvi nodded in agreement, though his expression reflected a blend of determination and uncertainty. “You are right, Celebrimbor. We cannot afford to take any chances, not after what we’ve seen in recent years. The memory of the War of Wrath still looms over us, and the shadows of Morgoth’s forces continue to creep into the hearts of our people.”
As they rode, the road stretched ahead of them, winding through hills adorned with vibrant wildflowers and ancient trees, each whispering tales of yore. Though they could not yet see Himring’s towering silhouette on the horizon, the anticipation of their arrival loomed large in Celebrimbor's mind. The fortress had flourished since the War of Wrath, becoming a beacon of hope and knowledge, a place where the scars of the past were slowly healing.
In the wake of that monumental conflict, Maedhros had managed to rally more allies than ever before, thanks in part to the survivors of the Haven of Sirion. Their combined strength shifted the tide of war, leading to a triumphant victory over Morgoth's dark forces. Many lives were saved that day, including the lives of Maedhros’s brothers Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin, who had previously been doomed to darker paths. Instead of despairing, they had emerged as leaders, committed to rebuilding their shattered world.
“Each design choice we make must be a testament to our resolve,” Celebrimbor continued, his voice steady as he guided his horse over a gentle rise. “We must craft a door that stands against not only the physical dangers but also the remnants of Morgoth's lingering influence.”
“I sometimes wonder what would have happened had the War of Wrath played out differently,” Narvi mused, glancing sideways at his friend as they traversed the familiar paths of the forests. “Had Morgoth been defeated earlier, perhaps we wouldn’t have to face the remnants of his darkness still lurking in our world.”
“True, but we are fortunate that Maedhros and the others survived to guide us,” Celebrimbor replied, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes. “Their experiences shape our future. And thanks to their efforts, Himring has become a bastion of knowledge and healing. The library there is said to be the most comprehensive in all of Middle-earth. It could inspire the design for our hidden door.”
The road continued to stretch before them, winding through trees that seemed to whisper their own stories as they swayed in the gentle breeze. The sun began its slow ascent, casting dappled light upon the travellers, illuminating the vibrant greens and golds of the landscape. As they ventured farther from the safety of the familiar, a sense of anticipation began to swell within Celebrimbor. The journey ahead promised more than just the prospect of visiting his uncles; it was an opportunity to learn and grow.
As they travelled, the terrain shifted subtly, the grass giving way to rocky outcrops and ancient stones, remnants of a time long past. They were only halfway to Himring, and though the journey felt long, the air was alive with the scent of possibility. Suddenly, as they approached the edges of the Sleeper’s Forest, a place steeped in whispers of legend and ancient magic, Narvi's pony pricked its ears and began to whinny softly, its hooves skittering nervously at the edge of the path.
“What’s got into you, friend?” Narvi asked, pulling on the reins to steady his mount. But even as he spoke, the pony took a step forward, as if drawn by an unseen force. The air around the forest shimmered with an ethereal glow, the thick trees standing like sentinels, their boughs heavy with foliage and secrets.
“I think it feels safe,” Celebrimbor observed, watching as the pony nudged forward, its instincts guiding it toward the depths of the wood. “The animals seem to understand the nature of this place, a sanctuary from the outside world. Perhaps it senses that all creatures are welcome here.”
Narvi frowned, glancing nervously at the forest. “What are you talking about? I’ve never heard of this place before. It looks... well, a little ominous, don’t you think? Those trees are so thick, I can barely see beyond them.”
“Ah, but there’s magic in the forest,” Celebrimbor replied, his eyes alight with excitement. “The Elves have great respect for this place, and we know it as the Sleeper’s Forest. Its protector, the Sleeper himself, lies within, watching over the land as he slumbers. It is said that he has the power to heal all who enter, but he remains asleep, waiting for a time when he is needed.”
“Who is this, Sleeper?” Narvi asked, his curiosity piqued but still laced with scepticism. “Is he a spirit? A great being? I’ve never heard of him.”
“The Elves revere him as a guardian of the forest,” Celebrimbor explained, a smile breaking across his face. “It is customary for us to leave gifts or clean the area in respect for his home. He brings balance and protection to this land. Without him, it would not thrive as it does.”
Narvi shook his head, scepticism still lingering in his eyes. “Magic? Gifts? It sounds like one of those old wives’ tales. I’m not so sure about this.”
“True but think of what we could learn!” Celebrimbor urged, sensing Narvi’s hesitation. “If we can uncover the secrets of this forest, it could provide insight into our project. A place that nurtures and shelters could inspire us to create a door that embodies those very qualities.”
Narvi hesitated, clearly torn between his desire to support his friend and his own apprehensions. “Fine, but let’s just peek inside. No deep wandering, alright?”
With a reluctant sigh, Narvi finally nodded, sensing the pull of adventure himself. “Very well. Just a quick look, and then we return to the path.”
As they approached the forest’s edge, the atmosphere shifted. There, just ahead, a shimmering veil enveloped the entire expanse of the Sleeper’s Forest. It was like a delicate curtain of magic, hanging just above the ground and swaying gently with the breeze. The barrier seemed alive, the blue-tinted magic becoming more defined as they drew closer. Soft golds and vibrant emeralds swirled within the veil, giving the impression of liquid light that ebbed and flowed. The strange, ethereal barrier stretched across the forest’s edge, marking the boundary between the mundane world and this enchanted realm.
“This is no ordinary wood,” Celebrimbor murmured in awe, gazing at the barrier that surrounded the forest. “The magic here is old, older than most things left in Middle-earth. I’ve heard tales but seeing it with my own eyes is something else entirely.”
Narvi’s pony nickered nervously, but the barrier seemed to recognize them, parting slightly to allow them entry as if sensing their intentions. The moment they passed through, the air inside the forest became different—thicker, more alive. The trees towered above them, their branches woven in a canopy so dense that only dappled beams of light broke through. The magic seemed to hum in the air, ancient and powerful.
“What is this place?” Narvi whispered; his usual boldness softened by the overwhelming serenity.
“It’s the Sleeper’s Forest,” Celebrimbor repeated, his voice reverent. “It has been said that the Sleeper’s magic sustains it, even while he rests. This barrier protects the entire forest. The forest thrives here as if untouched by the passing of years outside.”
They rode deeper into the woods, the soft rustling of leaves and distant birdsong the only sounds that accompanied them. Every now and then, Narvi would catch a glimpse of small trinkets or offerings nestled among the roots of the trees—simple tokens left by those who had visited before. The deeper they ventured, the more alive the forest felt, as though every plant, every tree, was in harmony with the magic around it.
After what felt like an eternity but was no more than an hour, they finally reached a vast clearing. Here, in the heart of the forest, a sight unlike any Celebrimbor had ever seen awaited them. Resting on the lush grass in the centre of the clearing was a figure of otherworldly beauty. This was the Sleeper, a being long spoken of in legend but never before seen by Celebrimbor.
The Sleeper lay in peaceful repose, surrounded by small gifts—lembas bread wrapped in delicate leaves, finely woven cloaks, and vibrant herbs planted in the soft soil. His long black hair was meticulously braided with silver threads that caught the sunlight, glimmering faintly. His garments, once they had become faded and worn, had been replaced with robes of fine craftsmanship, clearly cared for with reverence.
Around him, the clearing was immaculate, as if those who visited had taken great care to maintain the space. The trees here seemed even grander, their branches reaching protectively over the figure as though offering their own vigil.
"Do you see?" Celebrimbor spoke softly, his voice filled with awe as his eyes sparkled with wonder. "This is the sanctuary of the Sleeper. It thrives on the care and respect of those who come here. We have stumbled upon something truly magical."
He turned to Narvi, expecting his friend to share the same sense of reverence, but found him standing still, his face frozen in shock as he stared at the Sleeper. "Is everything all, right?" Celebrimbor began, but Narvi’s hushed voice interrupted his question.
"Is he... is he alive?" Narvi whispered, hesitating at the edge of the clearing. His voice was thick with disbelief, as if speaking too loudly might disrupt the delicate peace of the place. "He looks so... still."
"Yes, he is alive," Celebrimbor reassured him gently, his gaze softening as he glanced back at the Sleeper, who lay perfectly motionless beneath the canopy of trees. "But he sleeps deeply. There are many beliefs about why. Some say he’s resting after centuries of sustaining this place. Others think he’s waiting for the right moment to awaken."
As he spoke, the quiet power of the forest seemed to envelop them. Towering trees encircled the clearing, their branches swaying gently in a breeze neither elf nor dwarf could feel, as if whispering ancient secrets to one another. A sense of calm washed over them, as if the very air was charged with a magic older than they could comprehend.
Celebrimbor busied himself with setting up their camp, carefully choosing a spot near the edge of the clearing. Though they were close enough to feel the Sleeper’s presence, he was determined not to intrude on the sacred space around him. The thought of disturbing such a revered figure felt deeply wrong. Meanwhile, Narvi, still grappling with the enormity of what he was witnessing, wandered around the clearing, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. The offerings surrounding the Sleeper—lembas wrapped in leaves, finely woven cloaks, and even newly planted herbs—seemed as mysterious to him as the forest itself.
By dusk, their long day had worn them both. The warm glow of twilight bathed the forest in a serene light, and Narvi, ever practical, suggested they hunt for food. "Perhaps we can find some game nearby," he offered, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "There must be animals in the forest."
Celebrimbor turned sharply, his expression one of disbelief. "You cannot hunt here," he said firmly, a hint of reproach lacing his words. "This place is a haven for all living things. Nothing can be harmed within these woods. The creatures come here for protection, just like us."
Narvi blinked in surprise but nodded, his confusion slowly giving way to understanding. "I didn’t know," he murmured. "This place... it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen."
"I brought lembas," Celebrimbor said, pulling a parcel from his pack. "And some pre-prepared food. We’ll have to make do."
Together, they shared a simple meal, heating their provisions over a small flame that flickered in the fading light. The forest seemed to watch over them, its ancient magic humming softly in the background. The stillness was comforting, and the silence was full of unspoken secrets. Afterward, tired from their journey, they retreated into their tent, lulled to sleep by the quiet song of the trees.
In the early hours of the morning, they awoke to an unexpected sound—a soft thud, like something being gently dropped outside their tent. Curious, Celebrimbor and Narvi crawled to the entrance and peeked out, their breath catching at what they saw.
Standing before them was a stag, but no ordinary creature of the woods. Its form radiated an otherworldly light, bright enough to obscure its finer details. The stag shimmered with hues of silvery white and pale blue; the light so intense that it blurred the edges of its form. It moved with an ethereal grace, its hooves silent against the forest floor, almost as if it floated above the earth.
As the stag stood before them, a wave of happiness and mental clarity washed over Celebrimbor and Narvi. The creature emanated a sense of joy that felt almost tangible, filling the air with warmth and peace. At the stag’s feet lay several sticks and stones, each radiating with a soft glow, as if they too were imbued with the magic of the place. The objects seemed to pulse with energy, drawing the attention of both elves.
"For us?" Celebrimbor whispered in disbelief, his heart racing with excitement and reverence.
The stag paused, its luminous form shimmering softly as if acknowledging his question before nodding. Then, with an elegant motion, it turned and gracefully made its way toward the heart of the clearing. As it approached the Sleeper, it seemed to merge with the ethereal light surrounding him, absorbing into his being as if it were part of the very magic that sustained this sanctuary.
Narvi and Celebrimbor stood frozen for several moments, too awestruck to speak. The air around them hummed with the remnants of the stag’s presence, and they felt as though they had witnessed something profoundly sacred, a connection between the forest and the Sleeper that transcended their understanding.
"The Sleeper’s magic extends beyond himself," Celebrimbor said softly, kneeling beside the enchanted sticks and stones. "Even creatures from outside this forest feel drawn to him. They understand this place is special, a sanctuary where all life is cherished."
Narvi nodded slowly; his earlier confusion replaced by a newfound respect. "I’ve never seen anything like this," he admitted. "The magic here... it’s alive."
As they gathered the gifts the stag had left for them, each object humming softly with the energy of the forest, they felt a deep connection to the world around them. This place, this sanctuary, had given them a glimpse into a realm of profound, unspoken power, a magic that flowed through the trees, the air, and the very essence of the Sleeper himself.
By the time the sun rose over the horizon, Celebrimbor and Narvi were giddy with excitement, their spirits soaring with the promise of a new day. They mounted their steeds and set off toward Himring, riding faster than they ever thought possible. The wind whipped through their hair, and the thrill of the journey coursed through their veins like wildfire.
Upon arriving at the stronghold of Himring, they were greeted by the sight of the twins, Elros and Elrond, who stood waiting for them at the entrance. As the pair approached, a glint of mischief sparkled in the twins' eyes, and laughter bubbled forth from them.
"You met Nimheil!" Elros exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across his face.
Celebrimbor and Narvi exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to make of this revelation. Before they could voice their curiosity, Elrond stepped forward, eager to clarify.
"We first encountered him when we were traveling through the forest after the attack on the Haven of Sirion," he explained, his voice animated with nostalgia. "He played with us and helped heal the minds of the warriors who had been shaken by the trauma of battle. We began calling him Nimheil, which, for our Dwarven friend here, means 'White Healer.'"
Celebrimbor opened his mouth to interject, but before he could speak, Elros playfully shushed him. "We were just kids, okay? We were unimaginative back then," he admitted, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. "We know it’s basic."
With laughter still dancing in their eyes and their ears flushed with red, the twins dashed off to attend to their tasks, leaving Celebrimbor and Narvi standing in the sunlight, filled with the warmth of comradeship. As they watched Elros and Elrond retreat, Celebrimbor couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of belonging amidst the laughter and light of the morning.
In that moment, he realized that the bonds of friendship and the magic of their shared experiences would guide them through whatever challenges lay ahead. The world around them brimmed with possibility, and they were ready to embrace it all.