Passersby ➵ ONC 2021

➵ rain mountain

Sometimes a layer of fur becomes too hot, so Ulvinowyn turns into a woman. Gimli talks to her quite a bit more when she is a person, but then she gets cold and returns to her form of a large gray cat, and then the dwarf is silent again.

They passed an enormous rock beneath the water a few hours back, and Legolas stuck out the net and gathered handfuls of small pebbles from the surface, which he and the dwarf now take turns skipping off the edge of the boat into the water. They have become increasingly harder to throw. Each one is carried more and more in the wind, Gimli beginning to curse as each rock is intercepted by the breeze and thrown violently down into the ocean without hopping across it even once.

There is a storm upon them. They can tell by the clouds that seem to be getting thicker and darker and more and more endless as they steer towards it. But they do not turn to go around it. The clouds stretch too far to the North and South to even make an attempt to get out of its way. Besides, Legolas has assured them that the calmest section of any burling storm is the part in the very middle of it, so they may as well face it head-on.

Gimli thinks this is a terrible idea, because he understands that he is almost guaranteed to die if the ship is turned over by the waves. He knows this because he thinks about death, and he thinks about death because he is bound to meet it.

Legolas does not understand the fear attached to death. If you know it is coming, why run from it? It will take you regardless of how many times you narrowly escape from its grip. Elves believe in hospitality, regardless of whether it is an old friend or the sound of demise that waits at the kingdom gates. It is hard to comprehend why someone would not freely welcome it in.

The cat, in contrast to the both of them, says that Gimli is so round that he'll probably float through the sea anyway, so any fear of capsizing is senseless. The cat does not fear being turned over in the storm. The cat is only focused on steering. She does not let herself think of other things.

It is breathtaking to see risky weather ahead of you in the middle of an ocean. Where the clouds cut off, there is a wall of rain, water dropping straight down with such speed that it's difficult to be sure that it isn't completely solid. Sailing towards it feels like running towards a cliff, and they all find themselves holding their breath as they await some sort of impact.

The elf begins to sing, although he doesn't completely notice that he is doing it. It's soft and quiet; a song about mist in the mountains that Gimli used to utter underneath his breath, and it goes on for quite some time. It feels tranquil and whole, an almost magnetic sensation, the music belonging so much to the wind and rain that the voice itself leans forward to meet it.

A dwarf is not often run mad by its own music. However, when stuck on a small boat with one who repeats it so often, miracles may indeed happen.

"Stop singing that," Gimli snaps gruffly as he looks out over the sea. Legolas, who stands sturdily near the edge of the ship, smiles at the wind as it pelts his face, welcoming the oncoming storm.

"It was you who taught it to me," he replies. "I'd argue that you only brought such things upon yourself."

The sensibility rings brightly out as if the sentence itself is a golden bell. It is ourselves who are in charge of our own suffering, after all. Suffering cannot control the mind, as it does not have a head or intention of its own. The brain that feels attacked by it is the same brain that put it there.

And therefore suffering cannot mean death and death cannot mean suffering. Legolas knows this for certain now, although he still cannot grasp what it is to die.

Gimli is quiet. Legolas resumes the song, and it floats softly over the crashing and bubbling sea.

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