Night by sallysavestheday, Anérea

Night

Nine thousand years of stars is not enough, Círdan thinks, drinking in the night sky like rejuvenating nectar. He tips his head back onto the wale of the small boat he has rowed until the Havens hang low on the horizon, their lamps no challenge to the lights that arc above. The long fall of his hair meets the water, suspending him between sea and sky. Pearls above and pearls below, he chants: the chorus of an ancient song of balance and fulfillment, of finding peace in letting go of one’s desire. Valinor will wait, as it has waited for centuries beyond memory. In the meantime, he has the night, and the light, and the waves. The rower’s ache in his arms and shoulders is pleasant, and the gentle rocking of the boat lulls him toward his dreams. Oh, the stars, the sweet stars…Elbereth willing, he will bask in their light for at least a millennium more.