The Breathing Sea by StarSpray

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Chapter 5

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The first word that came to mind when Frodo got a proper look at Avallónë was bright. The buildings were mostly of stone, but it was not merely grey or white. There were many shades of both, sprinkled with red and brown and other shades besides, and banners and flags seemed to hang from every window. Lanterns, unlit but still glinting like brightly-colored gemstones, were strung between buildings on chains or braided ropes. Gandalf pointed out Alqualondë in the distance across the water, glimmering like a pearl nestled between beaches of rainbow sand. The figure that had risen out of the water to greet them had sun beneath the waves again, though he could hear a voice not unlike hers, singing a song without words that reminded him, almost, of Tom Bombadil far away in the Old Forest.

The harbor was busy as they sailed into it. Most of the ships and boats were small and quick, darting in and out, many passing between the island and Alqualondë, or other parts of the coast. On the docks, Frodo saw, a crowd had gathered. Around him the other passengers on the ship pressed against the railing, leaning out over it to wave and call to loved ones standing on the shore. On the other side of Bilbo stood Elrond, gripping the rail with white knuckles as he scanned the crowd. There was an urgency in him that Frodo had never seen before, even at the Council.

As soon as the gangplank was lowered Elrond was racing down it, and running to meet him was a woman who had broken away from the crowd. She was barefoot, clad in a sleeveless dress of shimmering blue-green fabric, with pearls twined in her silver hair. "That must be Lady Celebrían," said Bilbo beside Frodo. He was much more alert since they'd passed through the rain curtain, his eyes sharp instead of hazy, and he had stood beside Frodo for quite a long while without needing to sit down or go take a nap. "Master Elrond's wife," he added, seeing the look on Frodo's face.

Frodo frowned. "Celebrían," he said. "I know I've heard that name before." He looked up at Lady Galadriel, who still stood with them. She was dressed all in white again, and her hair was unbound and falling in gentle waves about her shoulders. "Aragorn spoke of her to you, my lady, didn't he?"

She smiled. "Celebrían is my daughter," she said. "To her I gave the Elessar stone, and she gave it to Arwen, who returned it to my keeping until the day should come that her beloved was ready to claim his own."

"Oh!" said Frodo. He looked back at the dock, where Elrond and his wife were caught up in a tight embrace. He looked away again, back toward Gandalf, who was laughing again, leaning on his staff although Frodo was certain he didn't need it any longer. "Where are we going to go now?" he asked. He had not actually thought of very much beyond getting on the ship. Now that they were here, he was not at all sure what to do.

"You are going with Elrond and his household, for the moment," Gandalf said.

"Aren't you coming, too?" Bilbo asked.

"Why, certainly! But not yet; I shall be leaving straight away to go to Taniquetil. No, Bilbo—you cannot come, not yet! I won't be long, or at least I hope I won't be. The Timeless Halls, you called them in your song, Bilbo, and I'm afraid the Valar and the Elves sometimes forget that time is a passing thing, even here." He turned and whistled, short and sharp, and Shadowfax came up out of another doorway to the hold, where he and one or two other horses had spent the voyage stabled in relative comfort, if horses could be comfortable on a rocking ship.

Meanwhile, Galadriel had disembarked, and Celebrían was greeting her with no less enthusiasm than she had greeted Elrond. As Gandalf led Shadowfax down the gangplank, Lindir came up from the cabins with Frodo's pack and Bilbo's in his hands. "Come on!" he said, smiling down at them both. "We are here at last, and I for one will rejoice to feel solid earth beneath my feet again."

The earth, Frodo found, did not feel at all solid. He nearly fell over when he stepped onto it, finding it pitching about like—well, like the deck of a ship. Lindir caught him before he could fall on his face, and Elrond appeared to steady Bilbo. "That will happen after a long voyage," said one of the mariners coming down behind them, a barrel on his shoulder. "You need to find our sea legs and then your land legs again. Master Elrond, where are we to take everything?"

"I can tell you!" Lady Celebrían said. "There's a wagon just down there that you can load up; the driver knows where to go." As the mariner and others left to find the wagon, she looked at Elrond. "Was that a barrel of Dorwinion?"

"Lalwen insisted," Elrond said.

"Aunt Lalwen! Where is she?" Celebrían spun in a circle. All around them was a cacophony of laughter and tears as the crowd from the shore met the one from the ship. In the distance Frodo glimpsed Shadowfax stepping on board another, much smaller boat. "Oh never mind. She's somewhere. Hello!" Celebrían turned back to Frodo and Bilbo. "Masters Bilbo and Frodo Baggins! I am Celebrían. Welcome to Tol Eressëa!"

Bilbo replied cheerfully, but Frodo could only bow, struck with a shyness rather like what he had felt upon meeting Goldberry, although thankfully he did not embarrass himself with clumsy verses this time. Celebrían was bright-eyed, silver haired, with freckles on her face and arms, and a beaming smile. "I hope there is a cart for us as well, Lady Celebrían," Bilbo was saying. "Walking is all well and good for elves, but not elderly hobbits!"

Celebrían's laughter was like silver bells. "Certainly there is a cart! It awaits us just down the quay."

The cart carried them quite comfortably through the city. Celebrían pointed out various buildings of interest, including several libraries, and the homes of folk that until now had been mere names in old stories. "Gil-galad lives near the center of the city," Celebrían said, "and he's in Tirion just now. But there is Uncle Finrod's home, and Uncle Orodreth's beside it. Down that street is where Idril and Tuor live, Elrond."

"Are the stories about Tuor true, then?" Bilbo asked. "I thought that was just wishful thinking."

"They're true, but don't ask me how. I'm sure Ulmo had a great deal to do with it." Celebrían leaned against Elrond's side, but addressed both him and Galadriel. "There's a long line of people who want to visit you, but I've managed to talk them out of all descending upon us at once. Uncle Finrod helped, but on the condition that he got to see you first—he's probably waiting for us at home, now."

"Is it us he wants to see, or the Halflings?" Galadriel asked, laughing.

"You most of all, Mother!" Celebrían replied. "He was very quick to reassure me about that. But the hobbits are a close second."

"Goodness gracious," said Bilbo.

Elrond laughed. "You are more famous than you realize, Master Baggins. There are many here eager to meet you, I am sure."

"Well, that's all right," said Bilbo, "as I am quite eager to meet them!"

Celebrían's house was just outside of the city, so close to the water that the sound of the waves washing gently up on the beach permeated the entire house. A room had been made up specially for Bilbo and Frodo, and in all the rooms Frodo saw on their tour there were tables and chairs suitable for hobbits. Lady Celebrían and her household had not neglected a single detail. There was the usual bustle and flurry of activity, of people coming and going and bringing things in and out, that came with arriving in a new place, and after it died down Frodo was quite relieved to retreat to the small portion of beach just a few steps down from the house's wide patio.

The water was cool but not cold, and the sand smooth and warm. Frodo sat just above the water and stretched out his legs so that the waves washed over his toes, and stared out over the bay. He could see the distant shore of Valinor proper—the coast itself was merely a dark, hazy line. The Pelóri, of course, rose like great towers to reach into the clouds, taller than the Misty Mountains could have ever hoped to be. Frodo squinted at them, trying to gauge how much higher they went after they hit cloud, but he couldn't tell.

It was late in the afternoon by this time, edging towards evening, and there were fewer boats out on the water now, though it still seemed to Frodo like quite a lot, and he wondered how they kept from crashing into each other. He wiggled his toes in the water, and then lay back on the warm sand to stare up at the cloudless sky. So this was the West, he thought, watching gulls circled overhead.

There was a soft splash, and he rose up on his elbows to see the same figure of a woman that had risen out of the bay to greet their ship, although now she was much smaller—nearly hobbit-sized. He sat up fully. "Hello?" he said, a little uncertain. Did the Ainur speak Westron?

It seemed that they did. "Hello!" the woman said, and walked up out of the water, her legs apparently forming as she moved. Her gown shimmered like sea foam in moonlight, and was girded with leafy brown kelp. Her skin was dark as ink, or perhaps as dark as the deep waters where the sunlight did not reach; her hair was silver like Lady Celebrían's. Her eyes shone like stars on smooth water, and her smile was kind. "It is my honor, Frodo Baggins, to welcome you to Valinor." She sat on the sand beside him, skirts spreading like a puddle about her.

"Thank you," he said. "I'm honored to be permitted to come here."

"I hope you will find the rest and healing that you seek," she said, and took his hand in both of hers—his right hand, with its missing finger. She pressed something cool and wet into out, before rising and bowing deeply. "Farewell for now, Frodo Baggins." And with that she walked back into the waves, vanishing like mist in the breeze.

Frodo looked down at the gift she had given him, and gave a start. It was a seashell, a small white conical thing that nestled comfortably into his palm. It was the same sort of seashell that he had dreamed and written about, though he hadn't thought anyone knew it but himself. He closed his hand around it and got carefully to his feet, brushing the sand off as best he could before making his way back up to the house.

Bilbo was sitting on the patio. "Hullo, Frodo!" he said cheerfully. "Are you hungry? It isn't quite supper time, yet, but there is a great deal of fruit that I've never tried before. It's all quite good! Try the pineapple."

There was a small round table with a plate of neatly arranged fruit, including pieces of some bright yellow, pulpy looking thing that Bilbo gestured to. Frodo picked one up as he sat down on the other side and took a careful bite. It was quite sweet. "Oh," he said. "That's quite good!"

"There's a whole new world of food before us, Frodo my lad," said Bilbo as he picked up a grape. "Was that Uinen you were just talking to?"

"Uinen?" Frodo looked back toward the water, slipping the sea bell into his pocket. "Is that her name? She didn't say."

"Well, Uinen and Ossë are the two Maiar that serve Ulmo who appear in the old tales," said Bilbo. "And it was definitely Uinen who welcomed us when we sailed into Eldamar—I asked Elrond."

"Oh, then yes, I suppose that was Uinen. She was welcoming me to Valinor."

"That's very polite," said Bilbo, nodding approvingly. "Though it will take some getting used to, having neighbors that can change size and color and everything at any moment." Frodo hummed in agreement before picking up another slice of the yellow fruit.

They sat for a time in comfortable silence, enjoying the fruit and the scene before them. In the house behind them Frodo could hear laughter and singing, and away in Avallónë proper a chorus of bells was ringing.