Atop Aewellond's Tower by Kaylee Arafinwiel

Atop Aewellond's Tower

"Aewellond" or Bird-haven is the non-canonical name of Earendil and Elwing's dwelling in Aman, name borrowed from my Atto Fiondil's Elf, Interrupted 'verse.

Donut: MINE!

*bats Donut away from Notes* No. Mine, Donut. Silly seagull...

Elwing stood atop the great tower of Aewellond beside the sea, dark hair streaming out behind her. She stared out over Belegaer, the Great Sea that divided the uttermost West from the Hither Shores. She looked eastward, wondering.

My sons, she thought, with a pang. My little boys. I left them behind…we left them…

“Thou hadst no choice, child.”

Elwing spun round, eyes wide. The newcomer was a tall woman – taller than Elwing herself – with impossibly long, shining dark hair trailing behind her, glistening wetly. Kelp was threaded through it, and her aquamarine gown, skin-tight, dripped with water.

“Thou hadst no choice, Daughter of Dior,” she repeated, fixing her deep blue eyes on Elwing. The scent of sea-breeze emanated from her, though the wind was still, and she glowed with an inner Light that brought Elwing to her knees.

“Lady Uinen…” Elwing whispered, recognizing the Maia for what she was. Uinen nodded.

“Thy sons yet live,” she said quietly. “In fact, thine Elros will soon be King of a new land Lord Manwe intends to raise in my lord’s demesne, between here and the Hither Shores. A gift for the Men who fought so bravely against the Dark One.”

“Elros…will be Mortal, then,” Elwing said quietly.

“Yes.” Uinen’s voice was laced with sympathy. “Elrond has chosen the fate of the Edhil.”

“Will Elrond, at least, be returned to us one day, lady?” Elwing pleaded.

“I cannot say, child. But this I do know – the seabirds which dwell in thy domain will gladly bring thee news of thy sons. My Lord Ulmo gave thee the shape of a bird, for a time – and bird-speech is still thine, to speak and understand through osanwe. Thou wilt have news of Elrond, Elros, and in time, their descendants if such they have.” With a shimmer of light, and the scent of brine strengthening in the air, Uinen was gone. Elwing knelt by the tower’s railing, weeping.

“My sons…”

A lone seagull, winging its way through the air, came to perch by her. It cocked its head – no, his, Elwing could tell the bird was male – and met her astonished gaze with a bright eye.

Mine?

My sons, she thought, and the seagull nodded.

Mine!

Well, Uinen hadn’t said speaking with her companions would be easy.