Moon of the Sea by pandemonium_213

Chapter 12: On the Beach

The boy teetered on the edge of the rock, and she held her breath.

“Now, Isildur!” called his father from where he treaded water below the high rock.

The boy yelled, launching himself into the air, a whirlwind of arms and legs. He hit the water with a splat. Still, she dared not breathe.

The small head, black hair plastered against his face, popped out of the water, sputtering. His father caught him up in his arms. The boy squirted like an eel from the man’s embrace and swam toward shore, her husband following their son.

Man and boy emerged naked and shining-wet from the waves and walked on to the beach where she waited. Elendil sat beside her on the rush mat. He saw the question in her eyes but said nothing. He turned his attention to the boy.

“Go find me three shells, Isildur.“ He watched his son speed away. Then his gaze traveled to the far horizon. She looked at the beloved profile of his face –- the aquiline nose, high cheekbones, blue-grey eyes sheltered by black lashes –- a profile as noble as the peregrines that soared over their home.

“You intend to leave soon,” she said.

“Yes, a month from now.”

For six years, Elendil had remained in Rómenna, forsaking the long voyages with Lord Amandil, to be a father to his young boy. And that he had done. She had entered into this marriage knowing full well what it meant to be the wife of a lordly mariner of the Faithful. I should count myself lucky. He is a good father to our son, and I am no Erendis.

But already her heart ached. A tear tracked down her cheek. Her husband caught the tear with his forefinger.

“Isilmë...” He kissed her, his lips caressing hers slowly, then with conviction, his tongue sliding against hers. More tears squeezed from her eyes. He released her. He placed his hand against her face and pulled her eyes to his. She felt the faint touch of his mind to hers, something they shared from the traces of the Firstborn and the Fays that ran in their blood, but he spoke the words all the same, the simple words that meant so much.

“I love you.”

Then he was on his feet, running with long strides to the boy whom he picked up and flung into the air, the child squealing with glee.