Where the Ocean Meets the Sky and the Land by StarSpray

Chapter 8

The next morning Elwing retreated into the gardens after breakfast, with a book from Findis to help identify the plants she did not recognize, and to learn at least some of their properties. In the next few days she and Elunis would leave for Alqualondë, but until then Elwing welcomed any distraction. She would tell the tales of Beleriand a thousand times if it would help, but she did not yet want to think about the opposition she faced among the Lindar.

As she sat in an out-of-the-way corner, on a bench beneath a tangle of climbing rose vines, Elwing became aware of someone else nearby. She looked up as soft footsteps on the gravel path announced Telpaltië's appearance around a corner. When Elwing had met her she had seemed almost severe, with her hair bound back from her head in right braids coiled into a knot at the back of her neck, her gown all sharp cuts and angles. Today she wore her hair unbound, falling nearly to her hips, and her gown was much looser, soft and grey; her fingers had ink stains on them, and she wore a string of opals around her neck. She approached Elwing cautiously, hands clasped together. Elwing carefully closed her book and rose, bracing herself for what could only be a very difficult conversation.

"Lady Elwing," Telpaltië said, halting a few feet away and faltering.

"Lady Telpaltië," Elwing replied, nodding her head courteously, but doing nothing more.

Telpaltië seemed to realize she was wringing her hands together, and dropped them to her sides. "I do not know how your husband came to possess a Silmaril," she said, "but it surely made him—made you both—enemies of my husband and his brothers. I know that my husband is dead," she added before Elwing could reply, "and I will not ask you how." She faltered again, biting her lip.

As the silence stretched between them, Elwing said carefully, "I bear you no ill will, Lady Telpaltië."

"Can you tell me what has become of my son?" she asked, which was not at all what Elwing had expected. "My Telperinquar. He followed Curufinwë to the Outer Lands, but swore no oath…"

For several seconds Elwing could only stare blankly at Telpaltië, baffled, until she managed to translate the name Telperinquar for herself. "Oh," she said. "Yes, I know your son, and he is well—he dwells on the Isle of Balar, with Círdan and Gil-galad the High King. He made Eärendil's armor," she said, remembering suddenly. Elwing herself only rarely saw Celebrimbor; neither of them went out of their way to avoid one another, but it was less awkward if they met but seldom. But she told none of this to Telpaltië, who bowed her head briefly in relief, before straightening again.

"Thank you," she said.

"May I ask why you did not leave with them?" Elwing asked.

"I nearly did," Telpaltië said. "I turned back just before—just before Alqualondë, when it became clear that Fëanáro intended to try to steal the Swanships. It felt too much like we were following the Enemy in more then just his footsteps. But perhaps—perhaps I will go now, with Arafinwë. I have studied long under Estë, and healers will be needed as much as warriors."

"Even more, I think," Elwing said, thinking of all the children and elderly men and women in Sirion who could not lift a sword to defend themselves—her own sons among them.

They spent most of the morning together; Telpaltië had a great number of questions about Men, and the kinds of ills they suffered that were different from Elves. No more mention was made of Silmarils or of Fëanor or his sons. They spoke a little of the Sindar, and the troubles of a new people needing a place to call home in a land of cities and kingdoms long established. Telpaltië was intrigued by Elwing's description of Menegroth. "I am sure a place for a second one can be found," she said. "And the Noldor would help to delve the caves—such a project would be a delight, for nothing like it has been built in Aman before."

Such a project would have to wait, though—probably for a very long time. But the thought of a new Menegroth and renewed friendship between the Noldor and her people after all the sorrows that had come between them buoyed Elwing as she and Elunis departed Tirion for Alqualondë. Lintanis accompanied them, as a representative of the Vanyar. "It has been too long since I visited the shore," she remarked as they crested the Calacirya, and the Bay of Eldamar stretched before them, Alqualondë gleaming like a pearl by the water, the gem-strewn beaches glittering like rainbows. The bay itself was dotted with ships, with sails dyed bright blue and green and red. Elwing inhaled deeply as they drew closer; she had missed the sea, but had not realized just how much until returning to it now.

They entered Alqualondë with birds wheeling overhead, and found the city filled with murmurings and grumblings—no one Elwing overheard as they made their way toward Olwë's palace wanted to take part in the coming war. Elunis and Elwing did not draw many stares, but Lintanis did, with her Vanyar-gold hair and chain mail clinking over her knees, and the spear strapped to her back. Elwing had wondered at the wisdom of traveling to Alqualondë armed for war, but Lintanis had said that it was war that took them there, so as a warrior she would go.

Lalindil was there to greet them at the palace; she embraced them all, though she hesitated upon seeing Lintanis' dress. "You will not make many friends like that," she said.

"The only blood this spear will shed is that of orcs," Lintanis replied. "Will the Lindar truly not take part in this great war? Do they not wish to see the Enemy brought down once and for all?"

"The Lindar suffered greatly when last we were asked for such aid," Lalindil said, glancing toward the harbor. "And those who came demanding were arrayed not so differently from you."

"We make no demands," Lintanis said. "But I will not pretend that the war is far away—it is not, and we must all stand united against Moringotto, even the Lindar. Or would you see him victorious, and all the world under his shadow? He will not be content with Middle-earth, and will look back west to us here across the Sea."

Elunis put a hand on Lintanis' shoulder. "Enough," she said. "We are not so pressed for time that you must hold this debate here and now. Where is Olwë?" she asked Lalindil.

"At the harbor with Aiwë and Ëarion, listening to our people. Olwë is willing to take part in this war the Valar are planning, but he won't send our people east against their will."

"Then we can speak more when they return," Elunis said firmly. "Lintanis, surely you can leave your arms behind for a few hours to swim?"

While Elunis and Lintanis went down to the water by the palace, Elwing changed into fresh clothes and went walking through the streets of Alqualondë. It did not take long to find a wide space with a fountain where a large group was gathered to exchange tales and songs. Elwing sat on the lip of the fountain near the edge of the group to listen; the story being told was of Oromë's coming to the Elves at Cuiviénen, and the choosing of Elwë, Ingwë, and Finwë to go with him to see the Trees. It was, in the end, a mournful tale, for it told of the many sundering of the Nelyar as they traveled, and concluded with Elwë's disappearance, a grief still felt by the Lindar in Alqualondë. Elwing listened quietly; it was a tale she knew, but this telling was of course different than the ones she had heard in Sirion and on Balar.

"Whatever happened to Elwë?" someone in the crowd asked. "He has not come to us through Mandos."

"No one knows," said the storyteller. "Perhaps he is in Mandos. Perhaps he merely disappeared, like so many of our folk did before and during the Journey, taken by some dark creature in the wood."

"I can tell you what happened to him," Elwing said. The small crowd turned to her. They were startled, but intrigued. "I know many songs and tales of Beleriand, and of Elu Thingol."

"Tell us!" someone exclaimed.

"Sing us a song!"

There was one song often sung in Sirion, on summer nights beneath the stars, when the moon was dark and the world was all silver and shadow, and those who remembered the days before the Sun and Moon were willing to recall them. It was this song Elwing sang for the Lindar, of the wide lands of Beleriand where the rivers flowed and the Elves walked beneath the shining stars, and the niphredil and other flowers perfumed the air in Eglador by the Esgalduin, where Lúthien danced, lovely as dawn in spring, and Melian sang with the light of Aman in her face, and all was joyful and peaceful.

She ended up sitting by that fountain for hours; everyone was eager for new tales, and she told them of the Naugrim of the Ered Luin who helped to delve the caves of Menegroth, paid for with pearls from the Falas and Nimphelos most lovely of all, and of Daeron and his runes, of the coming of Denethor Lenwë's son and his people into Beleriand, and his death in the first battle when the orcs came streaming out of Angband upon Morgoth's return.

It was late when she returned to the palace; the sun had vanished behind the Pelóri long ago, and the stars shone bright and cold in the sky, and glittered on the water. Eärendil was brightest of them all. Elwing slipped around the palace rather than going inside, instead making her way to the small bit of beach where Elunis and Lintanis had swum earlier in the day. It was deserted now. She kicked off her shoes, hiked up her skirts, and waded into the water, just far enough that it washed over her feet and up her shins, cool and clear. There was music in the waves; Uinen was singing out in the bay. Elwing stared up at Eärendil, missing him terribly and wondering whether he could see her standing there, or if he looked rather to the eastern lands.

A slight breeze swept over the beach, threading through her hair like fingers brushing it out of her face, and on it she heard snatches of whispers in familiar voices. Gil-Estel, she heard, and We are not forgotten, and Eärendil has fulfilled his quest!

The breeze died away; it seemed to have taken with it some weight that had lain heavily on her shoulders, and when Elwing turned to go inside she was smiling.