The Book of Lost Tales, Part 1

by J. R. R. Tolkien

  But Manwë and Ulmo knowing their hour was come held high councils for their protection. Many designs they made therein, and they were weighed down by the thought of Melko and the wandering of the Gnomes; yet did the other folk of Valinor trouble themselves little with such matters yet. Nonetheless Manwë ventured to speak once more to the Valar, albeit he uttered no word of Men, and he reminded them that in their labours for the concealment of their land they had let slip from thought the waywardness of the Sun and Moon. Now it was the fear of Manwë lest the Earth become unbearable by reason of the great light and heat of those bright things, and Yavanna’s heart was in accord with him in that, but the most of the Valar and the Elves saw good in his design because in the lifting of the Sun and Moon to higher paths they thought to set a final end to all their labours, removing those piercing beams more far, that all those hills and regions of their abode be not too bright illumined, and that none might ever again espy them afar off.

  Wherefore said some: “Let us send now messengers to discover the fashion of the world in the uttermost East beyond even the sight of Manwë from the Mountain of the World.” Then arose Oromë: “That I can tell you, for I have seen. In the East beyond the tumbled lands there is a silent beach and a dark and empty sea.” And the Gods marvelled at these tidings, yet never before had any save Oromë listed to see or hear such things, not even Yavanna the Earth-lady. Nought do I say of Ulmo Vailimo, Lord of Vai, for of a truth all such matters he knew from the beginning of the Earth. Now therefore did that ancient one follow Oromë, expounding to the Valar what was the secret nature of the Earth, and he said:

  “Lo, there is but one Ocean, and that is Vai, for those that Ossë esteemeth as oceans are but seas, waters that lie in the hollows of the rock; but Vai runneth from the Wall of Things unto the Wall of Things whithersoever you may fare. Now to the North is it so cold that even its pale waters are frozen to a depth beyond thought or sounding, and to the South is such utter darkness and deceit by reason of Ungoliont12 that none save I alone may find a way. In this vast water floateth the wide Earth upheld by the word of Ilúvatar, for nought else or fish or bark will swim therein to whom I have not spoken the great word that Ilúvatar said to me and bound them with the spell; but of the wide Earth is even Valinor a part, and the substance of the Earth is stone and metal, and the seas are pools in its hollows, and the islands save some few that swim still unfettered stand now like pinnacles from their weedy depths. Know then that somewhat nearer stands Valinor to the great Wall of Things wherein Ilúvatar hath enclosed us than doth that furthest Eastern shore: and this do I know, for diving beneath the world often have I visited those unharboured beaches; for lo, O Valar, ye know not all wonders, and many secret things are there beneath the Earth’s dark keel, even where I have my mighty halls of Ulmonan, that ye have never dreamed on.”

  But said Manwë: “True is that, O Ulmo Vailimo; but what is it to our present purpose?” And Ulmo answered: “Lo, I will take Aulë the Smith with me and convey him safe and swift beneath the waters of Vai in my deep-sea car, even to the Eastern shores, and there will he and I build havens for the Ships, and from the East hereafter shall they arise and give their fullest light and glory to Men who need them, and to the unhappy Noldoli, following one the other over the sky, and coming home to Valinor. Here, when their hearts wax faint by reason of their journeyings, shall they rest awhile upon the Outer Seas and Urwendi bathe in Faskalan and Ilinsor drink of the quiet waters of the Lake Irtinsa, ere ever they return again.”

  Now this speech had Manwë and Ulmo designed in collusion, and the Valar and Eldar hearkened for divers reasons as before; wherefore was Aulë sped now with Ulmo, and they builded great havens in the East beside the soundless sea; and the haven of the Sun was wide and golden, but the haven of the Moon was set within the same harbourage, and it was white, having gates of silver and of pearl that shone faintly so soon as the Sun sank from the heavens into Valinor; at that hour do those gates open of themselves before the issuing Moon, but none of the Eldar have seen these things save Uolë Kúvion, and he has told no tale.

  Now at first the Valar purposed to draw the Sun and Moon beneath the Earth, hallowing them with Ulmo’s spell that Vai harm them not, each at its appointed time; yet in the end they found that Sári13 might not, even so, safely come beneath the world, for it was too frail and lissom; and much precious radiance was spilled in their attempts about the deepest waters, and escaped to linger as secret sparks in many an unknown ocean cavern. These have many elfin divers, and divers of the fays, long time sought beyond the outmost East, even as is sung in the song of the Sleeper in the Tower of Pearl.14

  Indeed for a while mishap fell even upon bright Urwendi, that she wandered the dark grots and endless passages of Ulmo’s realm until Fionwë found her and brought her back to Valinor—but the full tale is called the Tale of Qorinómi and may not here be told.15

  Thus came it that the Gods dared a very great deed, the most mighty of all their works; for making a fleet of magic rafts and boats with Ulmo’s aid—and otherwise had none of these endured to sail upon the waters of Vai—they drew to the Wall of Things, and there they made the Door of Night (Moritarnon or Tarn Fui as the Eldar name it in their tongues). There it still stands, utterly black and huge against the deep-blue walls. Its pillars are of the mightiest basalt and its lintel likewise, but great dragons of black stone are carved thereon, and shadowy smoke pours slowly from their jaws. Gates it has unbreakable, and none know how they were made or set, for the Eldar were not suffered to be in that dread building, and it is the last secret of the Gods; and not the onset of the world will force that door, which opens to a mystic word alone. That word Urwendi only knows and Manwë who spake it to her; for beyond the Door of Night is the outer dark, and he who passes therethrough may escape the world and death and hear things not yet for the ears of Earth-dwellers, and this may not be.

  In the East however was the work of the Gods of other sort, for there was a great arch made, and, ’tis said, ’tis all of shining gold and barred with silver gates, yet few have beheld it even of the Gods for the wealth of glowing vapours that are often swathed about it. Now the Gates of Morn open also before Urwendi only, and the word she speaks is the same that she utters at the Door of Night, but it is reversed.

  So comes it that ever now, as the Ship of the Moon leaves his haven in the East and his gates of pearl, Ulmo draws the galleon of the Sun before the Door of Night. Then speaks Urwendi the mystic word, and they open outward before her, and a gust of darkness sweeps in but perishes before her blazing light; and the galleon of the Sun goes out into the limitless dark, and coming behind the world finds the East again. There doth Sári filled with the lightness of the morning ride through the gates and Urwendi and her maidens make a sound of golden horns, and dawn is spilt upon the eyes of Men.16

  Yet many a time and oft a tiny star-ship of Varda that has dipped into the Outer Seas, as often they will, is sucked through that Door of Night behind the Sun; and some track her galleon through the starless vast back unto the Eastern Wall, and some are lost for ever, and some glimmer beyond the Door until the Sunship issues forth again.17 Then do these leap back and rush up into the sky again, or flee across its spaces; and this is a very beautiful thing to see—the Fountains of the Stars.

  Behold, the Moon dares not the utter loneliness of the outer dark by reason of his lesser light and majesty, and he journeys still beneath the world and many are the chances of that way; wherefore is it that he is often less timely than the Sun and is more fickle. Sometimes he comes not after Sári at all, and other times is late and maketh but a little voyage or even dares the heavens while Urwendi still is there. Then smile the Gods wistfully and say: “It is the mingling of the lights once more.”18

  Long was this indeed the manner of the ships’ guidance, and long was it after those days that the Gods grew afraid once more for the Sun and Moon because of certain tidings of those days, which perchance may after be told; and because of their fe
ar a new and strange thing befell. Now the manner of this mayhap I may tell before I make an end; and it is called The Weaving of the Days and Months and of the Years.

  For know that even as the great Gods sat in conclave pondering how they might fetter the lamps of heaven ever to their hand and guide their goings even as a charioteer doth guide his galloping horses, behold three aged men stood before them and saluted Manwë.

  But Manwë asked them who they were, “for well I know,” quoth he, “that ye are not of the glad folk that dwell in Valmar or the gardens of the Gods,” and the Valar marvelled how they came unaided to their land. Now those men were of strange aspect, seeming aged beyond count albeit of strength untamed. And one that stood at the left was exceeding small and short, and another amidmost of middle stature, and the third was long and tall; and the first had short hair and a small beard, and the other’s was neither long nor short, but the beard of the third swept the earth before his feet as he walked. Now after a while he that was short and small spake in answer to Manwë, and he said: “Brothers are we; and men of exceeding subtle craft” and the other answered: “Lo, Danuin, Ranuin, and Fanuin are we called,* and I am Ranuin, and Danuin has spoken.” Then said Fanuin: “And we will offer thee our skill in your perplexity—yet who we are and whence we come or whither we go that we will tell to you only if ye accept our rede and after we have wrought as we desire.”

  Then some of the Gods said them nay, fearing a trick (even perhaps of Melko), and others would grant their request, and such was the counsel that in the end prevailed because of the great perplexity of the time. Then did those three Danuin and Ranuin and Fanuin beg that a room might be set apart for them; and this was done in Aulë’s house. There did they spin and weave in secret, and after a space of twice twelve hours Danuin came forth and spake to Manwë, saying: “Behold my handicraft!” and none knew his intent, for his hands were empty. But when the Ship of the Sun returned then went Danuin to her stern, and laying his hand thereon he bid Ulmo draw her, as was his wont, over the waters to the Door of Night; and when Ulmo was gone a little way from the further shore of Valinor Danuin stepped back, and behold Ulmo might not draw the Sunship further, not though he put forth all his strength. Then were Manwë and Ulmo and all that beheld afraid, but Danuin after released the Sun and went from among them, and they might not find him; but after twenty nights and eight came forth Ranuin and he said also: “Behold my handicraft!” and yet no more could be seen in his outstretched hands than before in those of Danuin. Now Ranuin waited until Ilinsor brought the Rose of Silpion unto Valinor, and then going he set his hands against a jag of glass upon that isle, and thereafter might no man stir Ilinsor’s bark far from Ranuin against his will; but again Ranuin spake no word and went from among them; then Rána was released, but Ranuin no man could find.

  Now the Gods pondered long what this might portend, but nought more betid until thirteen times had Rána waxed and waned. Then came forth Fanuin, and he bid the Gods detain Ilinsor that at Sári’s coming both ships might stand in Valinor at once. But when this was done he begged aid of the Gods, “for,” said he, “I have fashioned somewhat of great weight that I would fain show to you, yet cannot of my own strength hale it forth.” And seven of the stoutest from the halls of Tulkas went to the place of Fanuin’s labouring and could not see aught therein; but he bid them stoop, and them seemed they laid hands upon a mighty cable and staggered beneath it as they laid it upon their shoulders, yet could they not see it.

  Then going unto Sári and to Rána in turn Fanuin moved his hands as though he were making fast a great rope to each of those vessels; but when all was done he said to Manwë: “Lo, O Súlimo Lord of the Gods, the work is wrought and the ships of light are set in the unbreakable fetters of time, which neither ye, nor they, may ever break, nor may they escape therefrom, albeit these fetters are invisible to all beings that Ilúvatar has made; for nonetheless are they the strongest of things.”

  Then suddenly behold Danuin and Ranuin stood beside him, and Danuin going to Manwë placed in his hand a slender cord, but Manwë saw it not. “Herewith,” said Danuin, “O Manwë Súlimo, canst thou govern the goings and comings of the Sun, and never may she be brought beyond the guidance of your hand, and such is the virtue of this cord that the goings and returnings of the Sun shall be accounted the most timely and inevitable of all things on Earth.” Thereafter did Ranuin in like manner, and behold Manwë felt a stout rope within his palm invisible. “Herewith,” said Ranuin, “shalt thou hold and steer the wayward Moon, as well as may be, and so great is the virtue of the ‘thong of Ranuin’ that even the fickle and untimely Moon shall be a measure of time to Elves and Men.” Lastly did Fanuin bid bear his mighty cable’s end to Manwë, and Manwë touched it, and it was made fast to a great rock upon Taniquetil (that is called therefore Gonlath), and Fanuin said: “Now doth this mightiest cable hold both the Moon and Sun in tow; and herewith mayest thou coordinate their motions and interweave their fates; for the rope of Fanuin is the Rope of Years, and Urwendi issuing through the Door of Night shall wind it all tangled with the daycord’s slender meshes, round and about the Earth until the Great End come—and so shall all the world and the dwellers within it, both Gods and Elves and Men, and all the creatures that go and the things that have roots thereon, be bound about in the bonds of Time.”

  Then were all the Gods afraid, seeing what was come, and knowing that hereafter even they should in counted time be subject to slow eld and their bright days to waning, until Ilúvatar at the Great End calls them back. But Fanuin said: “Nay, it is but the Music of the Ainur: for behold, who are we, Danuin, Ranuin, and Fanuin, Day and Month and Year, but the children of Aluin, of Time, who is the oldest of the Ainur, and is beyond, and subject to Ilúvatar; and thence came we, and thither go we now.” Then did those three vanish from Valinor; but of such is the framing of the moveless courses of the Sun and Moon, and the subjection of all things within the world to time and change.

  But as for the Ships of Light themselves, behold! O Gilfanon and all that hearken, I will end the tale of Lindo and Vairë concerning the building of the Sun and Moon with that great foreboding that was spoken among the Gods when first the Door of Night was opened. For ’tis said that ere the Great End come Melko shall in some wise contrive a quarrel between Moon and Sun, and Ilinsor shall seek to follow Urwendi through the Gates, and when they are gone the Gates of both East and West will be destroyed, and Urwendi and Ilinsor shall be lost. So shall it be that Fionwë Úrion, son of Manwë, of love for Urwendi shall in the end be Melko’s bane, and shall destroy the world to destroy his foe, and so shall all things then be rolled away.’19

  And thus ended Vairë, and the great tale fell silent in the room.

  NOTES

  1 ‘they’: original reading ‘the Solosimpi’.

  2 The rejected draft text of the tale to this point is remarkably brief, and reads as follows (following on from Ailios’ remarks given on p. 197, note 20):

  ‘That is easy told,’ said Lindo; ‘for the murmurings that I have spoken of grew ever louder, and came to speech at that council which was now summoned to fix the courses of the Sun and Moon; and all the ancient grievance that had flamed before at Melko’s instigation concerning the freedom of the Elves—even that strife that ended in the Exile of the Noldoli—grew sore again. Yet were few now in pity of the Gnomes, and such of the Eldar whom the newlit world allured dared not for the power of Melko break from Valinor; wherefore in the end the enemies of the Gnomes, despite all that Ulmo might say or plead, and despite the clemency of Manwë, carried the counsels of the Gods—and so came that which stories name the [Closing >] Hiding of Valinor. And the Gods went not at that time forth to fight Melko, and their greatest opportunity for glory and eternal honour was let slip, [even as the Music of Ilúvatar had foreboded—and they little understood it—and who knows if the salvation of the world and the freeing of Men and Elves shall ever come from them again? Some there are who whisper that it is not so, and hope dw
elleth only in a far land of Men, but how so that may be I do not know.]

  The concluding passage is thus bracketed in the manuscript, with a question-mark against it.

  3 The word looks like ‘east’. The word ‘eastward’ was added to the text, and it may be that my father intended to change ‘east’ to ‘eastward edge’ or something similar.

  4 Here ‘Earth’ is clearly used, if strangely so, in the same way as is ‘the world’, to mean the Great Lands as distinguished from the Outer Lands of the West.

  5 The Teleri (i.e. the later Vanyar) had not in the old story departed from Kôr (see p. 159).

  6 Originally ówen and then Ónen, the name of Ossë’s wife has already appeared in the final form Uinen (p. 121, 192); but Oinen here is clear, and clearly intended.

  7 In the draft text the account of the Hiding of Valinor is very brief, and moves on quickly to the Path of Dreams. The webs of darkness laid on the eastward slopes of the mountains were not those ‘sloughed in Valinor’ by Ungweliantë, but are merely compared to ‘the most clinging that ever Ungweliantë wove’. Helkaraksë and the Magic Isles are only mentioned in a marginal direction that they are to be included.

  8 ‘Earth’ is again used in the sense of the Great Lands (see note 4). The draft has here ‘Children of the World’.

  9 While there are no differences of any substance in the account of the Olórë Mallë in the two texts, in the first there is no mention of Oromë’s Path of the Rainbow.—An isolated note, obviously written before the present Tale, says: ‘When the Gods close Valinor…Lórien leaves a path across the mountains called Olórë Mallë, and Manwë the Rainbow where he walks to survey the world. It is only visible after rain, for then it is wet.’