Nightfall in the West by Corsair_Caruso

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Chapter 4

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24th of March, 3319, Second Age of the Sun.
Rómenna, Arandor, Númenor.

Elendur stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The sun was shining brightly and a cool breeze wafted off the bay and into the city, carrying a fresh, salty scent. As he looked down into the courtyard below, he saw his little cousins playing with one of the servant's children.

Alcarian and Itarilde were almost mirror images of one another in form and face; only their hair color could tell one apart from the other. Itarilde had golden blond hair like her father and Alcarian's was bright copper red, like Calairien's mother, whom Elendur had himself met but twice. Both were skinny, pale, coltish little girls who loved to run and jump and play. Itarilde was somewhat more studious than her sister, and enjoyed their Quenya and Sindarin lessons, learning about history, and couldnever hear enough tales of the Elder Days. He had told her countless stories of Earendil the Mariner, and he knew that her mother had read her the Lay of Leithian in its entirety twice, and still she always wanted more. Alcarian enjoyed those pursuits up to

a point, but had less patience for them than her sister, and soon became distracted by the prospect of exploring the city or riding horses in the country surrounding Romenna, or going to the Bay and swimming in the salt sea.

Their lessons had been somewhat neglected of late. Calairien had taken up teaching the girls when their tutor had been released from service, after the family had been relocated, but the past week had seen their mother frustrated and distracted. As a result, the girls had seen a decided increase in their free-time, of which they took full advantage.

Elendur smiled has he watched them play with Thannor, younger brother of Halon. The dark-headed boy ran with the twins, sprinting and tumbling in a way that gave little sign as to who chased and who was being chased; Elendur was glad the girls seemed to have finally recovered somewhat from their father's departure. They both adored Anarion, and though their parents had spared them some of the details, they had felt the need to make the girls understand the gravity of the situation. They had been understandably distraught, and had not been quite themselves for days.

Elendur's own mood had taken a turn for the melancholy, but he had taken to throwing himself into his studies and practice to keep himself from contemplating the painful fact that his father, uncle, and grandfather were soon to go on trial for treason and regicide. After his mother's upset this morning, however, he had found himself too distracted for Noldorin literature (he had put his quill down when he realized that he'd been translating the same line over and over again for half an hour) or even for swordplay.

He had wandered the halls for some time, playing out scenario after scenario in his head. He tried not to think of the silver-domed temple in Armenelos, with the foul scent of burnt flesh and inky black smoke issuing from its top like a diseased discharge from a filthy wound. He finally found himself outside on the balcony, letting the sunlight and fresh breeze clean the image from his mind.

Elendur heard someone approaching in the hall behind him, and turned to see Silmarien coming through the archway onto the balcony. Having no brothers or sisters of his own, and having been raised with his cousins, he thought of them all as his siblings, but he and Silmarien were especially close. In appearance, she was like her mother remade, save taller, with the same reddish golden brown hair and gray eyes lightening to pale in the center. She was much like her father in character, quick both to mirth and anger, but in true crisis she was most like their grandfather, Elendil: calm and focused, with a natural air of authority.

Silmarien smirked, "How fare you, Elendur? Have you found sufficient isolation and brooding to improve your mood?"

Elendur turned to the children below, who were still running and laughing in the sun. "Watching them enjoy themselves lifts my mood. I am glad to see them so, after so hard a separation from their father."

Silmarien approached the balcony and stood next to Elendur, watching silently for a moment. "They did not understand why he had to go; they are too young to understand all the implications, but father and mother made sure they understood that they might not see him again for some time… we have yet to discuss the possibility with them that they might not see him ever." There was a slight catch in her voice at the last word, but otherwise she gave no other indication of her feelings.

Elendur turned to her, and saw her face had gone impassive. "Do you believe the situation to be so bleak?"

"I do not know, but mother and I have discussed it somewhat."

"What does she say?"

"That his life may depend on who holds true power in Armenelos. If the Council, or even Sauron, takes control of this trial, all may be lost; if the Queen can blunt their influence or have the charges dismissed, then there is hope."

Elendur nodded, "Our hope is placed in Tar-Miriel…"

Silmarien opened her mouth as if to respond, but then fell silent. Her gaze drifted over the walls, across the city, and then back downward to her sisters and the little boy in the courtyard, who had begun to climb a fruit tree. She shook her head as if to clear something away, "How is your mother? Has she recovered from her fright this morning?"

Elendur's mouth twisted into a frown. His mother had woken up screaming before dawn and set the entire house in an uproar. By the time he had gotten to her quarters, one of the maidservants and Calairien had managed to calm her down. All she had said was that she had wakened from a terrible dream, but could remember nothing of it. Her face had been deathly pale, and she had spent the rest of the morning in her bedchamber, taking no breakfast.

"I spoke with mother shortly before mid-day. She seemed somewhat better, but still not entirely herself."

"I am glad to hear her improved. I am sure the evening will see her right again." She looked sidelong at Elendur and smirked, "The girls are convinced your mother saw a spirit that haunts the house; they decided that Numendur dueled a man to the death and won the house as a prize, and that his spirit wanders the halls, waiting for us to leave so he can take it back."

Elendur laughed, "Quite the imaginations they have."

Silmarien gave him a light shove, "Oh, I remember the stories you used to invent when we were still in the palace in Andunie. You would tell me that you had seen the ghost of Turgon in the west wing, and that we had to find him to learn what kind of quest would free his soul to move on to the Halls of Mandos."

Elendur laughed more whole-heartedly this time, "I remember that. We had to find an elf-jewel buried near the fountain in front of the east gate and return it to Turgon's spirit so that he could leave in peace,"

"And you had actually placed one of your mother's brooches under a flagstone near the fountain, only when we went to go find it, we were caught by one of the servants."

Elendur smiled ruefully, "Mother was quite unhappy to find where her mithril brooch had gone."

"Eol from the wall come down, who smote the lady fair / the king commands a trip to take, so come, but have ye care!" The tune drifted up from the courtyard below, sung by the twins, and when he looked down, he saw Thannor jump out of the tree and land on the ground in a crouch.

Elendur called down, "Girls, you know your mother doesn't like you playing that game!"

"Alright, cousin!" One of the girls called up from below. "Sorry, cousin!" The other yelled.

Silmarien laughed again, "I remember someone spraining his ankle jumping from the roof of the servant's quarters playing 'Eol come down.' "

At this, Elendur smiled, "I won, didn't I?"

"Well, yes, but only because Bronwe came out and found you limping away as fast as you could, and so we had to stop playing so you wouldn't be mangled forever. 'Oh, pray we must not cripple the heir of the house!' " she said in a mocking tone.

Elendur heard a loud knock at the entrance to the courtyard, and saw Halon move quickly to the door and open it. In strode through Numendur, and the girls stopped their game and ran over. He could hear them chattering to him, though exactly what was said did not reach all the way up to the balcony, and Numendur laughed and gave them hugs. He ruffled little Thannor's hair as well, having known the boy since he was barely walking. Numendur looked up to the balcony and waved to Elendur and Silmarien, which they returned, both smiling.

"Did you know cousin Numendur was to visit today?" Silmarien asked.

"No, mother said nothing."

"I suppose he needs no reason to visit his old home and kin," she said. Elendur gave no response, but merely turned and headed back into the interior of the house to greet Numendur.

As Elendur stepped out into the courtyard, Numendur walked toward him with an easy smile. Numendur was of a height with his father, that is, taller than many Dunedain, but not so tall as Elendur or Elendil. He had short, curly, dark hair and a beard to match, and dark gray eyes. His temples and beard had begun to show gray, but little beside that gave away his age. He wore a black tunic and cloak, pinned at the shoulder with a large, round gold brooch set with the Valacirca in small white crystals. His hand rested easily on the hilt of a fine sword. Anarion had served under Numendur years ago, and apparently had instructed him in the more advanced points of swordsmanship. Elendur had never seen him use a blade, but the way Anarion spoke of him he was like Eonwe himself among Men.

"How fare you, Elendur?" the older man asked, bowing slightly.

Elendur bowed in return, "Welcome home, cousin. We fare well enough, considering the circumstances."

Numendur's eyes narrowed slightly, and he nodded in understanding. He turned to Silmarien and smiled, "Silmarien, you are radiant as ever. How many young men of Romenna pine away, sick at heart for your sake?"

She laughed and blushed somewhat, but answered with a grin, "Only a score came to my window to serenade me last night, cousin. Mother fears I will become an old maid with such a showing."

Numendur laughed and kissed her on each cheek. He took Elendur's hand firmly, and wrapped one arm around him in a strong embrace for a moment. He pulled away to find little Alcarian tugging at his cloak, he smiled and looks down to the little fire-headed child.

"Cousin, is it true that you won this house in a duel? We think Aunt Altariel saw a ghost last night, and that it must be the man you bested to win this house!"

Numendur's eyebrows raised, "Well I've certainly never seen any ghosts here, and I would never duel a man just to win a house. But," he crouched down to speak to her, "if you are good and don't get into any trouble today, I'll tell you and your sister a story tonight of my voyages to the Dark Lands, and the Wild Men who live there, with their cities of gold and their temples of black glass!"

Alcarian gasped, her bright eyes widening and her hands flitting to her mouth to cover a grin. She nodded, turned and ran to her sister and Thannor, who were still standing under the shade of the apple tree across the courtyard.

He stood and looked to Elendur with a half-smile and a quizzical arch of the eyebrow. "So your mother saw a ghost?"

"Mother woke with a terrible fright before sunrise," Elendur replied, shaking his head. "She says it was a dream, and what's more couldn't recall it, but took to bed for the rest of the morning."

Numendur's brow furrowed, "Is she well now?"

Silmarien answered, "She is up and about the house, but we-" Numendur looked past Silmarien as she answered and suddenly lifted a hand in greeting.

"Well met, cousins! How fare you?"

Elendur and Silmarien both turned to see their mothers coming out of the house together. Altariel's silvery blond hair was bound up with ebony hairpins, and she wore a blue, sleeveless dress with a golden belt at the waist, bound at the shoulders with small silver brooches. Calairien wore her hair down and was dressed in a green dress similar to Altariel's, but with a collar of small golden medallions stretching from shoulder to shoulder. If Elendur's mother still felt ill-effects from this morning, she did not show it.

"Cousin Numendur, welcome home; please, come inside and take your refreshment. We are glad to have you." She spread her arms arms and put them lightly around Numendur, giving him a kiss on each cheek.

Numendur returned the light embrace, and gave one to Calairien in turn. "You are all too kind; you greet me as if this is still my home. I gave it to you for your use, and I beg you to think of it as your own as long as you need."

"We are indebted to your for your generosity cousin," she replied warmly. "We were about to take tea in the solarium; we pray you come and join us."