tide will dry by kimaracretak

Erendis only ventured to the caves on days when her husband was at sea. It was her own silent compromise: she was not for the waters, but in the caves there was still nothing but rocks underfoot, the damp earth that gave life to all she loved.

If rivers from the Sea ran underfoot - and higher, when the tide came in, well. Aldarion had his explorations, she would have hers. She had no need to venture to the waters for them. Still, in those moments, she imagined that she could tell stories to the waves that would be borne out to her husband.

Sometimes she brought Ancalimë, and let her daughter roam the rocky corridors and dig up secrets from the sands.

Here, Ancalimë, she would say as they walked. Here is all of the Sea that we need.

Erendis did not know when her daughter began to sketch the caves, but the map grew quickly under her daughter's hand the longer she roamed, venturing deeper than even Erendis. And during this time disquiet grew in Erendis' heart, for she loved the caves for their space at the border between land and Sea, but her daughter

Here, mother, Ancalimë would say as she worked. Here is our kingdom. I've drawn it so my ladies will be able to find us, and left it unlabeled so the men will not.

This first map was lost, as many children's possessions were lost, and as time passed  Ancalimë began to turn her attentions to other maps, other studies. Erendis did wonder, sometimes, what had become of Ancalimë's map, and how the world would remember the roads and ponds of their secret caverns.

But she knew even then that it did not matter. Ancalimë would rule, and need no men, and that was enough.

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