Fanfic Of the Golden River-daughter

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

When the world was yet young and beautiful, blossoming in its juvenile strength, the Old Forest was full of peace and quiet stillness, no sounds were heard save the musings of nature blooming in her youth. The chirps of birds far off in the distance, the rustle of wind through the soft branches of trees, the bubbling of rivers and streams, dancing in a sweet ambient sound within the forest. Yet out of this peaceful tranquility rose another voice, deep and genuine. But it was not overpowering nor drowned away by the sounds of the forest. This was the voice of the Master, Tom Bombadil. And clearly he sang through the forest, his voice deep yet full of passion and breath:

Hey! Come, forest song!
O Friends, sing along!
Forest, River, Tree, and Bow,
Join me now! Join me now!
Sing, friends! Sing a tune!
Sky and Forest, Sun and Moon!
Jolly friends, let us sing!
O River, now I bring,
A glad present for you swift!
Rush forth now, your voice lift!
Hey! Come, forest song!
O Jolly Friends, sing along!
Now comes Tom, good Bombadillo!
Friend of Sky, River, and Willow!
Hey! Come, Friends! Sing a sound!
Old Tom will be walkin' round!
Hey! Come, forest song!
Come Friends, sing along!

And as he sang, he walked through the forest, skipping and running youthfully with glee. He looked neither old nor young, yet he moved with great agility. He sprang forth beside the trees and bade them sing, and they creaked with glee as he passed them. The birds, too he spoke to, and they chirped a sweet tune before him. And this he continued to do till all the forest rang with beauty and gladness, every element and nature filled with a glad melody, from the greatest skies to the smallest droplets of water. And Old Tom came then to the river, and it rushed with great resounding tune, and he gazed into it, bringing flowers, many beautiful flowers, and laying them in its soft and cool water. Yet it was then that Old Tom saw something unusual, something truly peculiar, and as he laid the flowers against the swift current, he gasped:

" O River, what is it you bear?
Tell, River, what now have you there? "

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

And he looked into the flowing water, beside the stones on the riverbed, and he saw that there was a strange figure, unlike that of a beast or plant. He reached into the water and felt the peculiar form, and he grasped at it, feeling that he was holding a hand. A bit confused, he brought his head to the water to get a closer view, but as he did this, he felt a strong grasp of the figure upon his beard and spoke calming it:

"No. Let loose of me. Tom is Master, who holds me so?"

He felt the grasp loosed, and swiftly it gave way completely. Then he looked down and saw her. A glorious and fair maiden, unclothed, but bathed in the water, youthful and beauteous. He stopped short, seeing the beauty in her, and stood blankly gazing at her. At length, he lifted her out of the water and laid her upon the earthen soil beside the riverbed. Then he asked her a question:

"Ye a fair maiden, youthful and delicate. From where do you come? Or where does your origin lie?"

But no response was given, and he saw that the maiden seemed to be in a slumber of some nature, and that she did not speak nor look at him. And so, pardoning her silence, he kissed her brow and spoke:

"I have something that will preserve you, come! Come with me!"

And setting her upon his proud shoulder, he walked through the forest, singing as was his custom:

A Fair Maiden I have found,
Why did she lay upon the ground?
So fair is she to not spend,
Her life lay on the river end.
Why did she lay on riverbed?
Why no one came and gently led,
But now it's up to Tom, good Tom, up to me,
And I'll preserve her wait and see.
For Good Tom Jolly Bombadillo,
Is friend of river, maiden and willow!
He will not lay her leave alone,
Or into the grasses thrown,
But bear her on his shoulders high,
Beneath the forest and the sky.

And as his song came to a halt, his footsteps followed. He had arrived at his house in the heart of the forest, a truly wonderful place, and he rested her head upon his breast as the door turned and opened, and he walked into his house. It was very much an earthen place, decked with the greatest of all plants and trees, but they stood not in vases or pots but from the earth, as they were meant. And so, he laid her on a small bench-like structure in the entrance of the room and hastened to get up. Immediately, he rushed up a strange path and into some small garden, and it was beautiful and covered with herbs and blossoms, but in the middle of his garden grew a very particular plant, a great tree, wonderous and blooming, and on it hung yellow berries, but as they shone in that place, they seemed to look golden, as treasures, sprouting and hanging still. Then he bent down under the tree, and from the very heart of its growth, the nearest to the broad trunk, his long fingers grasped the branch, and it slid gracefully through his hand as he plucked the berries. This he continued until he had collected five of the small and tender berries, and he stored them in a satchel that he bore swiftly, and he began to return to the maiden, bearing the mysterious berries as he walked.

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

And as he came to her as she lay, he looked intently at her, very intently, and he saw her golden hair, flowing and glorious. And kneeling down beside her, he gave her the berries as food and nourishment, and when she had eaten from them, she was made glad. Tom also made for her a fair garment, a raiment of earth, and he laid it beside her, and she wore it with great beauty, and it magnified the radiance she held, so that she was glowing. She was neither of Elf-kind nor of that of Dwarves. She was by all accounts very truly of the Race of Men. And for that reason, mortality stood as an enemy to her. Yet Tom in his timelessness swept her into his own house. And in his dwelling, nothing would ever die or lose life. Thus, she was perceived by the berries and by Tom Bombadil himself, and she spoke to him:

"A stranger thou art to me, distant and far. Tell me, what is your name? In what do you find pleasure? What hath led you so to guide me? Tell me.."

Tom turned immediately towards her, glancing at her face with much intent, and after some rather evident consideration very brief, he spoke in response:

"Tom Bombadil I am, and Tom is Master. Mark me, Tom was here 'fore the Elves came and dwelt in the forests, before the first spring rang forth. Tom was here. Eldest I am, but mark not the eldest of all, not the Master of All."

Discernably confused, yet unwilling to express her utter puzzlement, she did not speak further, but gazed in awe at Tom, considering the meaning of what he said. Then he spoke to her, after great length:

"Young lady ye should be a walking to get some mighty draughts. You must be of thirst, nay?"

She nodded in approval, and Tom led her beside him, and he took her hand and led her, for while her strength was replenished, she still lacked very much the fully perception that she once had, alongside that this place was foreign to her. And Tom sang as they walked, and his song was one asking her to remain with him, and guiding her steps when they strayed apart:

Hey, Come, merry dol!
Beautiful my darling!
Hey Come, merry dol!
Voice as sweet as starling!

Hey come, pretty friend,
Come and share a time,
Hey come, jolly love,
Found at river's end.

Hey come, Golden berry,
Come and stay with me!
Hey come, do not tarry,
Come and join the melody!

And as he said this, he heard her voice ringing clearly beside some forest pool, and by her voice was led to her:

By the water do I lay,
By the coast my place to stay.

By the willows and the trees,
By the waters, mighty seas.

By the sound of crashing falls,
rushing from the river,
By the cries of whistling darts,
streaming from the quiver.

By the water where I dwell,
By the forest, glade and dell.

By the gentle birds that sing,
By the sounds of forest ring.

Far from sounds of falling stones,
crashing into river lands,
Far from crashing, burning homes,
Unquenched by the Elven-strands.

By the water do I dwell, here I find much glad,
By the Master, saved my life, and by the forest clad.

 

[Elbereth Vala Varda]

And Tom approached her gently, laughing and singing as he skipped and jumped and ran through the forest, and then came up directly behind her, and seized her torso kindly, sweeping her off of her feet and into his strong arms, firm and unmoving. And he tossed her high into the air and caught her once more, twirling her as she flew through the air above them with ease and her hair spun in a dance like the rays of sunlight on a warm day with every toss he gave her. And then he took her, and lifted her and laid her into a small pool, upon a rock which stood in the center spot. Then he ran forth swiftly, and as he did, she spoke to him:

"Where now are you off to? Where are you running? Tom! Master! Where have you gone?"

His voice echoed out from the trees which he sprang through like a deer in its blissful youth, and he returned as swift as he had left with the words:

"You'll see! You'll be a'thankful I left!"

And he returned with many water-lilies, fair and gorgeous, shining as a summer dawn, beautiful and resplendent, and he laid them at her feet, laughing and singing, taking her hand and gazing on her glorious face. He spoke to her softly, and while his tones were rough and uncanny, she loved him very much, and treasured his every word:

"Aye! You are so beautiful! So truly beautiful! Like the fairest of the fruits and nuts and berries tenth-over magnified! Ah, yes. Now I forget- where do you come from?"

She stopped with great haste and spoke to him in response, her face turning pale and her eyes in confusion:

"See, Tom, that is the trouble with me. The river hath bathed and washed away more than just my impurities of skin or sadness in health. Nothing do I recall from my years beyond. Far out, in the river."

And though she anticipated a rather glum response from Bombadil, he laughed heartily and replied:

"Grieve not. Ever!"

His laugh issued forth strong and merry again, a great mirth to hear.

"I don't see that as a problem! All things came in without a name, and all the same you stand... I shall name you. But what may be a fitting title for one so fair..."

And it was then that he glanced at her hair, and he saw it in the light of the sun, and recalled all the words he had previously spoken, and at last, ended on a title he found fitting:

"Aha! I have found it. Frequent names are given by what gives life, the skies are named blue because blue they appear, the trees named trees because of their tree-ness, their Entish origin... Yet that is a blather for another day! I name you, Goldberry. Fit to your hair, and completed by the life-giving berries that preserved you thus far, and me, of course!"

She looked with gladness, and she rose and smiled:

"Goldberry."

She repeated, and henceforth she was always named 'Goldberry' because of Tom Bombadil, her jolly Master.