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Canelle Nightfire
Drumming her fingers lightly on the ship's timbers, Earwen impatiently awaits the sight of her father's castle glinting in the distance. During their night travels, they noted the apparent disappearance of the morning star - though this had not seemed to have been as big a problem as they had thought it might - possibly due to the watchful Lord Ulmo guiding them on their way across the ocean.
"Thanks be to Ulmo we have not met with misfortune on our travels," she whispers to the ocean breezes surrounding the vessel and filling its sail with an invisible force driving her ever onward to her meeting with the Teleri King.
A watery sun hovers over the ocean, lighting the way of the sturdy ship carrying her to her childhood home to see her dearest father - whose plight is causing her much concern. A short time later, Earwen sees the glinting of precious metals in the distance, heralding her arrival at Alqualonde, the Swanhaven. Her heart flutters with excitement to be almost home once again, yet also holds a small grain of dread as to what she might find there. Will her father appear estranged? Will he remember her? It has been so long since they beheld one another in the flesh that she wonders if he will recognize her at all, let alone under the duress his illness must be causing him.
The ship sails into the harbour and is tied up by her husband's capable mariners who assist Earwen to disembark. Once on dry land, she thanks Iluvatar and Ulmo for their watchfulness and gracefully floats across the dock, noting some idle fishing nets lying scattered on the ground and in dire need of repairs. She travels up through the silent, deserted marketplace, noting the small cygnets in their safe pond in the market square. Looking ahead she sees the palace of her father and, with mixed feelings, quickly begins the ascent through a landscape which, at its heighest points, holds the barest remnants of the snows of winter. An air of quiet surrounds the entire Swanhaven, it is as though a deadly hush has spirited away all of its inhabitants. More and more puzzled by what she is seeing she continues on her way to the Teleri palace.
From the first level balcony, she looks back and notes her husband's mariners bringing her belongings ashore. She must remember to find them a place to sleep for the duration of their stay here. Finarfin would want them to be close at hand - that much she knew of her wise and loving husband.
Earwen stares in awe as she enters once again the home of her childhood. She quietly and carefully makes her way up the grand staircase to the upper levels, noting the tower where she spent much of her time. She makes her way to her father's chambers and discreetly knocks at the door before entering. Hearing no one call out, she enters to find her father seated on the floor of his reception chamber.
Earwen looks across the room towards her father, calling out, "Father - it is I, Earwen!"
Olwe rocks slowly back and forth, his arms wrapped around his legs, head down and breathing ragged. His cheeks are sunken and there are large circles under his eyes. His hair is unkempt, and wild about his face. Earwen hurries across the room towards her father. In his own world, Olwe mutters quietly to himself, rocking back and forth. "Earwen," he whispers..."Sweet Earwen."
"Father, please...!", Earwen pleads. She walks closer and touches her father's shoulder, leaning over him.
Olwe pulls his legs tighter to his chest and rests a hollowed cheek against his knees, "Blessed Illuvatar, how much more?" he whispers.
Earwen strokes her father's hair, wondering how she can help him.
To his eyes, the room is dark, bathed in perpetual and starless night. To his eyes, there is a pit of lava, and a stone, hard cave floor. To his ears is not the sweet voice of his daughter, but the taunting laughter of the Voice. He is back in the cave again...trapped.
Earwen looks upon her father and wishes she knew what ails him. "He does not seem to know I am here!" she whispers. She looks around her for some clues as to what may be happening here and spies lying close by her dearest stuffed rabbit covered in spots of blood.
Olwe suddenly claps his hands over his ears and leans foward... a ragged gasp tearing from his throat. "No,' he mutters," no, no."
Earwen leans closer and hugs her father close to her, trying to offer comfort. "Please come back to me, father."
Olwe stiffens and then leans his body closer to hers. Then slowly, he pulls his hands away from his ears, thin trails of blood running from both. Shuddering he blinks, and looks around. Earwen looks in alarm at the trail of blood on her father's hands and tears a strip from her gown and wipes it away as best she can. Olwe shaken, looks at his trembling, blood stained hands. At the sound of fabric tearing, Olwe whirls around and stares blankly at his daughter for a few moments. Then he extends a shaky hand inches away from her cheek and whispers her name. Earwen looks up smiling with concern at the man she knows as both father and mother. "Do you know me, dear father?"
Olwe looks at her, tears welling up in his eyes. The hand remains stretched, almost touching her cheek. "How should I not know that face I most love in all this world?"
Earwen smiles at her father with a sense of relief. Reaching out and gently touching his hand, she whispers, "I have missed you so much."
Olwe blinks back tears and meets her fingers, entwining his with her smaller ones. Then, with a cry of pain, joy, relief, he grabs her to him and rocks her, "Oh, Earwen, Earwen." He holds her tight to him. Earwen holds back the tears of relief as she embraces her father. "You are really here. It is truly you." He hugs her and breathes in the sweet perfume he remembered so well. "My sweet Earwen is home."
Earwen nods and smiles into her father's eyes, "Aye, father dear, it is I! I am so happy to see you!"
Olwe slowly pulls out of the embrace and holds her at arm's length. "Still lovely as ever, my daughter. How fare my grandchildren? Thy husband?" Alqualonde is much quieter without you."
Earwen smiles in answer to her father. "My beloved is well and the children also. Grandchildren keeping us all busy! Would that you could see them all, dearest father!" Reflecting on her father's words, she adds, "Indeed I had noticed the Swanhaven is very quiet!"
Olwe leans forward and whispers, "Fi is here...again. I think she ran away from home again."
Earwen shakes her head and smiles. "That child is always running away from home! I sense a strong will and an even stronger character!"
Olwe takes her hands and squeezes it. "She looks so much like you. Acts like a certain willful princess, too, if I recall." He looks up with that playful smile he so often used to tease her with as a child. There is a haunted look to his eyes, and he shifts from one foot to the other. Too much white shows in his eyes and a thin bead of sweat pops up along his brow.
"And now you tease me so," she replies, looking into the haunted eyes and the lines of tiredness in the familiar face before her. "Tell me truly, my dearest father, what is it that ails you?"
The smile slowly fades from Olwe's lips, and his eyes slide down to the floor. He gives his head a little shake. Then he takes her hand and steers her to a chair. "You must be thirsty after the journey. Come, I have Alqualonde wine." He guides her to a seat.
"Thank you father, I believe I would enjoy some refreshment."
Olwe looks down at the empty table and blushes..." I forgot to bring up a decanter from the kitchens. I am sorry, daughter. I..." his voice trails off. Then softly, he says, "Much has changed."
Earwen sits in her chair and nods towards her father, "I had an inkling there was a great change here."
Olwe nods and rubs a palm on his pants leg. He then leans forward and looks searchingly at her face. "Earwen, you are blood of my blood, my only heir..." he takes in a slow breath. "As you and Finarfin are aware, trading posts in the mortal world had begun to dry up, and the elves to vanish. No word, no trace, until our only firm connection was with the Sylvan elves. I went to the court of Comet, to try to learn what had happened, but before I could meet with her, I received a message by swan...to come home. The skies of Alqualonde were growing light in color, as though Arien had changed her course. When I arrived, Alqualonde was empty... The Teleri were gone."
Earwen looks across the chamber at the painting depicting the high times of the Teleri fleet in the harbour and the enormity of what her father is saying filters through her consciousness. Then looks at her father in alarm.
Olwe nods slowly, his face a mask of sorrow. "In time a few made it back...Nole, the young elf I fostered...remember him? He was amazing at ship design." Olwe draws in a ragged breath. "Two swordmaidens...Fi...a guard who cannot now be found. We are all that is left of our people."
"Then the dreams started..." He closes his eyes and for a moment, his whole body tenses. "A commission from Lord Irmo to unite all the elves of Earth, Earwen. A darkness is spreading forth its taloned hand."
Earwen looks at her father's sorrowful face and the emotion is echoed in her own. "Is there nothing we can do father? Have you called upon the Valar for their wisdom in this matter?"
Olwe continues. "I went to see Lord Manwe himself. I am Teleri, Earwen, no hero, no warrior king. I am but Olwe of Alqualonde. So I went and receved from his lips the word to do this thing, that it was a commission, indeed, by the will of the Valar."
Earwen looks again at her father's weary face "You have borne so much alone!"
"I asked Lord Irmo to move Alqualonde into the world of mortals, to achieve what Manwe..." He gasps and leans foward, his face contorting in pain. His cream undershirt slowly turning red with blood. 'It can hear me, "he whispers. "It likes not the name of the Lord of the West."
Earwen quickly moves to her father's side, her face registering extreme concern, wondering who it is her father is talking about. "Papa, you are bleeding again!" Earwen moves close and holds her father to her in an effort to comfort him.
"After we came into the mortal world, I again went to Sylvhara, and there I was poisoned..the wine on my ship, then these ...flowers," he pauses, looks down at the red blossoming across his shirt and hurriedly covers it with his arm. "And then there was a dark skinned elf...she hears the Voice...sees the spiders. She tried to help." He shudders and leans a little against his daughter, closing his eyes a moment.
Earwen looks up at her father, "Flowers? Dark skinned elf? Voice? What have you gotten youself into Papa?"
Olwe opens his eyes and looks up, giving her a wan smile. "Papa," he echoes, smiling. " I have missed hearing you call me that."
Earwen looks again at the dear person who has loved her all her life, "I will call you Papa for as long as I live." She smiles.
Olwe stars to uncurl his arm from around his waist but catches himself. "My Beloved Pearl of Alqualonde. I cannot feel the Valar. I cannot walk with my Beloved in my dreams. I cannot hear Unien's song in the waves. I cannot listen to the song of Yavannah in the voices of the birds. The presence of the Valar are denied me." Olwe lowers his gaze to the floor. "I am in eternal darkness with only the Voice for company. " He slowly slumps back against the chair. "I cannot rule this way. I have failed the Valar and my people."
Earwen looks closely at her father, noting the lines of pain furrowing his brow and the way in which he is holding his waist. "Then, dear Papa, is there some way I can help? I am sure Lord Ulmo has been watching over my travels to you! Everything went so smoothly!"
"Bless the Singer of the Waves for his protection over you. But then, he was ever enchanted with you, my sweet daugther."
Earwen nods at her father's words and looks again into her father's eyes, "You tell me you are in eternal darkness, Papa, with only a Voice for company. Do you recognize that voice?"
Olwe stars to answer, but instead, crumples with a harsh cry...before her eyes, the fabric of his tunic is shred, and his skin is torn, as though racked by mighty talons. Olwe shouts a defiant, "No!" and for several moments, he is curled up on the floor, fabric tearing, skin splitting as though sliced, until suddenly he is still, and only the rasping of his breath can be heard. Olwe softly, still panting, whispers, "Earwen."
Earwen gasps in horror at what is unfolding before her. What evil, unholy creature had her dearest Papa in its possession? She bends over her father's body, the better to hear his whispers. "I am here. my dear Papa. What in the mortal world have they done to you?"
"It wants me as its servant, and that I will not do, Earwen. I must die as I have lived...a childen of Blesse...." he draws in a deep sharp breath, shuddering, then, with a defiant tone, finishes, "Illuvatar."
Olwe raises his head and looks his silver haired daughter in the eyes, whispering, "I have called you, daughter of my flesh, for only one of the line of Olwe can sit upon the swan throne of Alqualonde. And if I must lay down my life, you must take up my crown. And be queen of the Teleri, should that be the will of the Valar. For I do not know if it be their will I live or die."
> Next
"Thanks be to Ulmo we have not met with misfortune on our travels," she whispers to the ocean breezes surrounding the vessel and filling its sail with an invisible force driving her ever onward to her meeting with the Teleri King.
A watery sun hovers over the ocean, lighting the way of the sturdy ship carrying her to her childhood home to see her dearest father - whose plight is causing her much concern. A short time later, Earwen sees the glinting of precious metals in the distance, heralding her arrival at Alqualonde, the Swanhaven. Her heart flutters with excitement to be almost home once again, yet also holds a small grain of dread as to what she might find there. Will her father appear estranged? Will he remember her? It has been so long since they beheld one another in the flesh that she wonders if he will recognize her at all, let alone under the duress his illness must be causing him.
The ship sails into the harbour and is tied up by her husband's capable mariners who assist Earwen to disembark. Once on dry land, she thanks Iluvatar and Ulmo for their watchfulness and gracefully floats across the dock, noting some idle fishing nets lying scattered on the ground and in dire need of repairs. She travels up through the silent, deserted marketplace, noting the small cygnets in their safe pond in the market square. Looking ahead she sees the palace of her father and, with mixed feelings, quickly begins the ascent through a landscape which, at its heighest points, holds the barest remnants of the snows of winter. An air of quiet surrounds the entire Swanhaven, it is as though a deadly hush has spirited away all of its inhabitants. More and more puzzled by what she is seeing she continues on her way to the Teleri palace.
From the first level balcony, she looks back and notes her husband's mariners bringing her belongings ashore. She must remember to find them a place to sleep for the duration of their stay here. Finarfin would want them to be close at hand - that much she knew of her wise and loving husband.
Earwen stares in awe as she enters once again the home of her childhood. She quietly and carefully makes her way up the grand staircase to the upper levels, noting the tower where she spent much of her time. She makes her way to her father's chambers and discreetly knocks at the door before entering. Hearing no one call out, she enters to find her father seated on the floor of his reception chamber.
Earwen looks across the room towards her father, calling out, "Father - it is I, Earwen!"
Olwe rocks slowly back and forth, his arms wrapped around his legs, head down and breathing ragged. His cheeks are sunken and there are large circles under his eyes. His hair is unkempt, and wild about his face. Earwen hurries across the room towards her father. In his own world, Olwe mutters quietly to himself, rocking back and forth. "Earwen," he whispers..."Sweet Earwen."
"Father, please...!", Earwen pleads. She walks closer and touches her father's shoulder, leaning over him.
Olwe pulls his legs tighter to his chest and rests a hollowed cheek against his knees, "Blessed Illuvatar, how much more?" he whispers.
Earwen strokes her father's hair, wondering how she can help him.
To his eyes, the room is dark, bathed in perpetual and starless night. To his eyes, there is a pit of lava, and a stone, hard cave floor. To his ears is not the sweet voice of his daughter, but the taunting laughter of the Voice. He is back in the cave again...trapped.
Earwen looks upon her father and wishes she knew what ails him. "He does not seem to know I am here!" she whispers. She looks around her for some clues as to what may be happening here and spies lying close by her dearest stuffed rabbit covered in spots of blood.
Olwe suddenly claps his hands over his ears and leans foward... a ragged gasp tearing from his throat. "No,' he mutters," no, no."
Earwen leans closer and hugs her father close to her, trying to offer comfort. "Please come back to me, father."
Olwe stiffens and then leans his body closer to hers. Then slowly, he pulls his hands away from his ears, thin trails of blood running from both. Shuddering he blinks, and looks around. Earwen looks in alarm at the trail of blood on her father's hands and tears a strip from her gown and wipes it away as best she can. Olwe shaken, looks at his trembling, blood stained hands. At the sound of fabric tearing, Olwe whirls around and stares blankly at his daughter for a few moments. Then he extends a shaky hand inches away from her cheek and whispers her name. Earwen looks up smiling with concern at the man she knows as both father and mother. "Do you know me, dear father?"
Olwe looks at her, tears welling up in his eyes. The hand remains stretched, almost touching her cheek. "How should I not know that face I most love in all this world?"
Earwen smiles at her father with a sense of relief. Reaching out and gently touching his hand, she whispers, "I have missed you so much."
Olwe blinks back tears and meets her fingers, entwining his with her smaller ones. Then, with a cry of pain, joy, relief, he grabs her to him and rocks her, "Oh, Earwen, Earwen." He holds her tight to him. Earwen holds back the tears of relief as she embraces her father. "You are really here. It is truly you." He hugs her and breathes in the sweet perfume he remembered so well. "My sweet Earwen is home."
Earwen nods and smiles into her father's eyes, "Aye, father dear, it is I! I am so happy to see you!"
Olwe slowly pulls out of the embrace and holds her at arm's length. "Still lovely as ever, my daughter. How fare my grandchildren? Thy husband?" Alqualonde is much quieter without you."
Earwen smiles in answer to her father. "My beloved is well and the children also. Grandchildren keeping us all busy! Would that you could see them all, dearest father!" Reflecting on her father's words, she adds, "Indeed I had noticed the Swanhaven is very quiet!"
Olwe leans forward and whispers, "Fi is here...again. I think she ran away from home again."
Earwen shakes her head and smiles. "That child is always running away from home! I sense a strong will and an even stronger character!"
Olwe takes her hands and squeezes it. "She looks so much like you. Acts like a certain willful princess, too, if I recall." He looks up with that playful smile he so often used to tease her with as a child. There is a haunted look to his eyes, and he shifts from one foot to the other. Too much white shows in his eyes and a thin bead of sweat pops up along his brow.
"And now you tease me so," she replies, looking into the haunted eyes and the lines of tiredness in the familiar face before her. "Tell me truly, my dearest father, what is it that ails you?"
The smile slowly fades from Olwe's lips, and his eyes slide down to the floor. He gives his head a little shake. Then he takes her hand and steers her to a chair. "You must be thirsty after the journey. Come, I have Alqualonde wine." He guides her to a seat.
"Thank you father, I believe I would enjoy some refreshment."
Olwe looks down at the empty table and blushes..." I forgot to bring up a decanter from the kitchens. I am sorry, daughter. I..." his voice trails off. Then softly, he says, "Much has changed."
Earwen sits in her chair and nods towards her father, "I had an inkling there was a great change here."
Olwe nods and rubs a palm on his pants leg. He then leans forward and looks searchingly at her face. "Earwen, you are blood of my blood, my only heir..." he takes in a slow breath. "As you and Finarfin are aware, trading posts in the mortal world had begun to dry up, and the elves to vanish. No word, no trace, until our only firm connection was with the Sylvan elves. I went to the court of Comet, to try to learn what had happened, but before I could meet with her, I received a message by swan...to come home. The skies of Alqualonde were growing light in color, as though Arien had changed her course. When I arrived, Alqualonde was empty... The Teleri were gone."
Earwen looks across the chamber at the painting depicting the high times of the Teleri fleet in the harbour and the enormity of what her father is saying filters through her consciousness. Then looks at her father in alarm.
Olwe nods slowly, his face a mask of sorrow. "In time a few made it back...Nole, the young elf I fostered...remember him? He was amazing at ship design." Olwe draws in a ragged breath. "Two swordmaidens...Fi...a guard who cannot now be found. We are all that is left of our people."
"Then the dreams started..." He closes his eyes and for a moment, his whole body tenses. "A commission from Lord Irmo to unite all the elves of Earth, Earwen. A darkness is spreading forth its taloned hand."
Earwen looks at her father's sorrowful face and the emotion is echoed in her own. "Is there nothing we can do father? Have you called upon the Valar for their wisdom in this matter?"
Olwe continues. "I went to see Lord Manwe himself. I am Teleri, Earwen, no hero, no warrior king. I am but Olwe of Alqualonde. So I went and receved from his lips the word to do this thing, that it was a commission, indeed, by the will of the Valar."
Earwen looks again at her father's weary face "You have borne so much alone!"
"I asked Lord Irmo to move Alqualonde into the world of mortals, to achieve what Manwe..." He gasps and leans foward, his face contorting in pain. His cream undershirt slowly turning red with blood. 'It can hear me, "he whispers. "It likes not the name of the Lord of the West."
Earwen quickly moves to her father's side, her face registering extreme concern, wondering who it is her father is talking about. "Papa, you are bleeding again!" Earwen moves close and holds her father to her in an effort to comfort him.
"After we came into the mortal world, I again went to Sylvhara, and there I was poisoned..the wine on my ship, then these ...flowers," he pauses, looks down at the red blossoming across his shirt and hurriedly covers it with his arm. "And then there was a dark skinned elf...she hears the Voice...sees the spiders. She tried to help." He shudders and leans a little against his daughter, closing his eyes a moment.
Earwen looks up at her father, "Flowers? Dark skinned elf? Voice? What have you gotten youself into Papa?"
Olwe opens his eyes and looks up, giving her a wan smile. "Papa," he echoes, smiling. " I have missed hearing you call me that."
Earwen looks again at the dear person who has loved her all her life, "I will call you Papa for as long as I live." She smiles.
Olwe stars to uncurl his arm from around his waist but catches himself. "My Beloved Pearl of Alqualonde. I cannot feel the Valar. I cannot walk with my Beloved in my dreams. I cannot hear Unien's song in the waves. I cannot listen to the song of Yavannah in the voices of the birds. The presence of the Valar are denied me." Olwe lowers his gaze to the floor. "I am in eternal darkness with only the Voice for company. " He slowly slumps back against the chair. "I cannot rule this way. I have failed the Valar and my people."
Earwen looks closely at her father, noting the lines of pain furrowing his brow and the way in which he is holding his waist. "Then, dear Papa, is there some way I can help? I am sure Lord Ulmo has been watching over my travels to you! Everything went so smoothly!"
"Bless the Singer of the Waves for his protection over you. But then, he was ever enchanted with you, my sweet daugther."
Earwen nods at her father's words and looks again into her father's eyes, "You tell me you are in eternal darkness, Papa, with only a Voice for company. Do you recognize that voice?"
Olwe stars to answer, but instead, crumples with a harsh cry...before her eyes, the fabric of his tunic is shred, and his skin is torn, as though racked by mighty talons. Olwe shouts a defiant, "No!" and for several moments, he is curled up on the floor, fabric tearing, skin splitting as though sliced, until suddenly he is still, and only the rasping of his breath can be heard. Olwe softly, still panting, whispers, "Earwen."
Earwen gasps in horror at what is unfolding before her. What evil, unholy creature had her dearest Papa in its possession? She bends over her father's body, the better to hear his whispers. "I am here. my dear Papa. What in the mortal world have they done to you?"
"It wants me as its servant, and that I will not do, Earwen. I must die as I have lived...a childen of Blesse...." he draws in a deep sharp breath, shuddering, then, with a defiant tone, finishes, "Illuvatar."
Olwe raises his head and looks his silver haired daughter in the eyes, whispering, "I have called you, daughter of my flesh, for only one of the line of Olwe can sit upon the swan throne of Alqualonde. And if I must lay down my life, you must take up my crown. And be queen of the Teleri, should that be the will of the Valar. For I do not know if it be their will I live or die."
> Next