Pearl Diving by StarSpray

Pearl Diving

Read Pearl Diving

The sight of the Sea was breathtaking, dark as the finest of wines and glittering with stars, mirroring the skies so that it was impossible to see where one ended and the other began, even with Elven sight. Beleg sat upon the sands, whittling away at a piece of driftwood while watching swimmers dive from boats farther out into the water. They carried small lanterns with them, made by the dwarves of captured firelight or even starlight, so they did not go out under the water. From where he sat he could hear those remaining in the boats singing merry songs, their voices carrying across the water with ease, and harmonizing with the steady wash of the waves over the sand.

Mablung lay nearby, not doing anything at all, except gazing up at the stars. “Do you know where Daeron’s gone?” Beleg asked after a while, realizing that he hadn’t seen the minstrel or heard his flute in quite some time.

“I think he went out with the pearl divers,” said Mablung. He shifted himself a little in the sand, and sighed. “Don’t worry, they won’t let him drown.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Beleg said. He set his knife down and flexed his fingers. “I hope they find all the pearls Thingol wants.”

“Círdan said he thinks they’ll have to sail south for the rest,” said Mablung, “but what we take back will serve as the first payment.”

A loud splash made them both start and glance out to the boats, but it was followed by a peal of laughter. Soon afterward one of the boats rode the waves onto the beach, and Daeron stumbled out of it, soaking wet and disgruntled. “Fell out of the boat, did you?” Mablung asked. “And here I was just assuring Beleg that we didn’t need to worry about you drowning.”

“Well, I didn’t drown, clearly.” Daeron tried to look dignified, but that was a difficult task when one was dripping with seawater. “But look!” He sat down in the sand between them and held out his hand. In his palm nestled a handful of pearls, each the size of a blueberry. They shimmered in the starlight, the color of the sea foam lining the beach. It was easy to see why the dwarves desired them so—they were lovelier, Beleg thought, than any gem mined from the mountains.