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Hastening towards the docks with her husband's mariners, her heart seemingly leaping into her mouth, Earwen tenses at the thought of anything further happening to her dearest Papa. An icy cold feeling permeates through her bosom and pierces her heart - the unknown terrifies her.
Moving closer to the group on the docks, she notices fresh blood stains marking her father's clothing and stifles a scream, remembering what he had said to her that last time they had spoken "Princess of the Teleri, it is your sovereign's will you sit as regent for this land in his stead, governing it according to its laws and traditions, forsaking allegiance to all others, and swearing to love, serve and protect it, to keep it for its people against my return. Should I not return, you will remain and assume the throne as Queen." This message reverberated through her thoughts like the death knell of a bell tolling and calling its message. The group gathering at the docks of the Swanhaven carefully lifted the king and took him back to the palace. Earwen and her husband's mariners following alongside, helping where they could. Finally her beloved Papa was ensconced in his own bed and she sat beside him stroking his hair from his face and holding his hand, which felt as cold as the ice forming around her heart.
Earwen notices her Papa stirring and the tiniest glimpse of a sigh escapes from her lips. Olwe gives a restless, uneasy sigh and winces. Slowly his eyes open, unfocused, as he looks around him in confusion. His gaze comes to rest upon the anxious face of his daughter. "Earwen?" he whispers through cracked, dry lips.
Earwen smiles and nods with concern at this man, her beloved father. "Yes, Papa dearest. Please rest. I am so worried about you."
Olwe blinks and shifts his weight in the bed, struggling to sit up. "I..I was on the docks," he murmurs, a hand clutching the bed covers. "I...how came I to be here?" He looks down at his hand, clutching the sheets tightly and slowly, relaxes his grip.
"I know not the full story, Papa. I saw there was something amiss - something bright was shining by the ship and then suddenly I saw you lying on the ground with everyone hovering around you. T'was then I called the mariners to follow me to see if we could help. The young sailor, the shieldmaiden and the musician aided you and somehow we all helped to return you to your chamber." Earwen looks again at the tired Teleri King in front of her and fears that this latest attack will have taken a greater toll than the one she had witnessed. "There must be something more I can do to help you Papa?"
Olwe listens to her recounting of the events, and at the mention of the bright object shining, he reaches out and grabs her arms, squeezing, his voice husky and excited. His eyes come alive for a moment, and he tell her, "Yes! The Ainur! The one sent by..." he stops, seized by a sudden convulsion and slumps forward, his forehead resting against her shoulder as a low pain pushes past his lips.
Earwen is alarmed by the sudden movement made by her father and even more alarmed when he slumps against her shoulder. She gently holds him as she hears the gasp of pain coming from his lips. "Shhhh, Papa, do not talk more on it, I beg you. You must rest and recover your strength."
Olwe draws in a ragged breath and whispers, "Tilion." He shudders and groans, and his grip upon her arms involuntarily tightens. "It...was..from ...him," he tells her.
Earwen looks to her father, and her eyes well with tears as she realises the deep sadness her father must be experiencing through the long separation from Tilion. In her eyes, he is truly a king, and he is suffering more than anyone ever had a right to suffer.
Olwe slowly lifts his head from her shoulders and loosens his grip, to instead rub her upper arms gently. "Earwen, beloved," he whispers, his eyes dull with pain, and his voice bearing the weight of the years he has seen pass. "Please, don't shed tears for me, my sweet Earwen." He strokes her hair, "My silver-haired daughter."
Earwen wipes her tears and looks at her father. "How can I not, Papa? To see you suffer so breaks my heart. I wish I could will away all of your ills and all of the pain and make all right in this world for you. That would be my greatest wish, Papa."
Olwe smiles, so gently, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes noticable as he leans forward and gently kisses her forehead. "I wish you could as well, Earwen. But such is not the will..." his voice trails off. "Such is not to be at this time." He reached out and gently ran his fingers through her hair. "Earwen, I -I .." his voice falters for a second. " You must return to the Shining Lands. I am not leaving Alqualonde, and you, as my heir, must be removed to a place that is safe."
Earwen looks with concern at her father's tired eyes. Hearing the faltering words falling from his lips, she again feels the ice tightening around her heart at the thought of leaving her father in this condition. "As a dutiful daughter, my dearest Papa, I should stay and help nurse you back to health! Do not, I beg you, send me away without I first see you well!"
Olwe looks down and back, the voice sliding about his minds, laughing. "I...Earwen," he falters, "There is nothing you can do for me, Earwen."
Earwen looks questioningly at her father. "There is something you are not telling me, Papa?"
Olwe has the thought, "I want to tell her all," and the Voice pours itself over the thought, oil on water. "Yes," it cooes. "Do tell her. And tell her she is next." Olwe gives a shudder and looks into her eyes, so intent upon his. "Yes, there is, Beloved, " he says slowly, "But as you love me, ask me not what it is."
Earwen looks carefully at her father's face, seeing lines etched from pain, the lifting of an eyebrow, the small shudder of distaste as if there is something unspeakable he does not wish her to hear. With the serious tone with which he has spoken these words, and that he has asked her not to question him further, she understands that he is tryng to protect her and that in doing so, he may also be free to pursue whatever it is that he may have been forced into choosing.
"Coward, " taunts the Voice. "Tell her, Olwe. Tell her how if feels to have me inside." Olwe looks away from his daughter at that and whispers, "no." The Voice continues. "Tell her how I flow over every thought in your being, Olwe." Olwe draws in a breath, closes his eyes and says louder, "No," Again the Voice says, "Olwe, tell her she will be next." Olwe looks up and over at Earwen, panics and screams a heartwrenching, "NOO!"
Earwen sees the internal struggle further etched on her father's face and hears the scream burst from her father's lips. "Papa!" she gasps and pulls her father gently towards her, cradling his head in her arms and rocking him as she had her children when they were overcome by pain. "Papa, shhhh. I will do your bidding. I will sail on the next tide , dearest Papa. Know I love you always, and I will always cherish our time together."
Olwe gasps for breath, his arms encircling his daughter's waist, gently. Like a litany, he whispers over and over, "I'm sorry, Earwen, so sorry, sorry."
Earwen strokes her father's hair, soothingly rocking him, dropping a kiss on his head. "Shh, dearest papa, there is nothing to be sorry about. I will question you no further, and I trust that your decision, whatever it may be or whatever it may precipitate, will be right for yourself and the kingdom. "
Olwe closes his eyes and lets the gentle timbre of her voice wash over him, fastens his attention to her every word. He slowly pulls away and releases her waist to gently cup her face in his hands. "You have to know I send you from here out of love, Earwen," he said slowly, sadly. "Know, this, too. Of all the things I have done during the course of my life, being father to you, that was the most worthwhile thing I have done. Whatever may be come to be said of me, the greatest thing they could say would be: 'He was father of Earwen the Silver-haired, born of Alqualonde.' "
Earwen looks with loving eyes at her beloved papa, taking his hand from her face and kissing it as the tears begin to flow freely once again. "I love you, papa. Please have word sent when things are as they should be here in the Swanhaven. I shall be waiting with an eager heart to hear that all is well." With these words of farewell, Earwen kisses her father's cheek, places his hands on the cover, and smiles into her father's eyes. She then stands and walks silently from the room, not looking back lest the tears now pouring from her face cause her to crumble and beg her father to let her stay.
Olwe watches her, the pain of her leaving a sharp ache in his heart, but he stills his tongue from uttering her name, knowing if he did, and she should turn and answer, he could not send her away again.
> Next Olwë > Next Eärwen
Hastening towards the docks with her husband's mariners, her heart seemingly leaping into her mouth, Earwen tenses at the thought of anything further happening to her dearest Papa. An icy cold feeling permeates through her bosom and pierces her heart - the unknown terrifies her.
Moving closer to the group on the docks, she notices fresh blood stains marking her father's clothing and stifles a scream, remembering what he had said to her that last time they had spoken "Princess of the Teleri, it is your sovereign's will you sit as regent for this land in his stead, governing it according to its laws and traditions, forsaking allegiance to all others, and swearing to love, serve and protect it, to keep it for its people against my return. Should I not return, you will remain and assume the throne as Queen." This message reverberated through her thoughts like the death knell of a bell tolling and calling its message. The group gathering at the docks of the Swanhaven carefully lifted the king and took him back to the palace. Earwen and her husband's mariners following alongside, helping where they could. Finally her beloved Papa was ensconced in his own bed and she sat beside him stroking his hair from his face and holding his hand, which felt as cold as the ice forming around her heart.
Earwen notices her Papa stirring and the tiniest glimpse of a sigh escapes from her lips. Olwe gives a restless, uneasy sigh and winces. Slowly his eyes open, unfocused, as he looks around him in confusion. His gaze comes to rest upon the anxious face of his daughter. "Earwen?" he whispers through cracked, dry lips.
Earwen smiles and nods with concern at this man, her beloved father. "Yes, Papa dearest. Please rest. I am so worried about you."
Olwe blinks and shifts his weight in the bed, struggling to sit up. "I..I was on the docks," he murmurs, a hand clutching the bed covers. "I...how came I to be here?" He looks down at his hand, clutching the sheets tightly and slowly, relaxes his grip.
"I know not the full story, Papa. I saw there was something amiss - something bright was shining by the ship and then suddenly I saw you lying on the ground with everyone hovering around you. T'was then I called the mariners to follow me to see if we could help. The young sailor, the shieldmaiden and the musician aided you and somehow we all helped to return you to your chamber." Earwen looks again at the tired Teleri King in front of her and fears that this latest attack will have taken a greater toll than the one she had witnessed. "There must be something more I can do to help you Papa?"
Olwe listens to her recounting of the events, and at the mention of the bright object shining, he reaches out and grabs her arms, squeezing, his voice husky and excited. His eyes come alive for a moment, and he tell her, "Yes! The Ainur! The one sent by..." he stops, seized by a sudden convulsion and slumps forward, his forehead resting against her shoulder as a low pain pushes past his lips.
Earwen is alarmed by the sudden movement made by her father and even more alarmed when he slumps against her shoulder. She gently holds him as she hears the gasp of pain coming from his lips. "Shhhh, Papa, do not talk more on it, I beg you. You must rest and recover your strength."
Olwe draws in a ragged breath and whispers, "Tilion." He shudders and groans, and his grip upon her arms involuntarily tightens. "It...was..from ...him," he tells her.
Earwen looks to her father, and her eyes well with tears as she realises the deep sadness her father must be experiencing through the long separation from Tilion. In her eyes, he is truly a king, and he is suffering more than anyone ever had a right to suffer.
Olwe slowly lifts his head from her shoulders and loosens his grip, to instead rub her upper arms gently. "Earwen, beloved," he whispers, his eyes dull with pain, and his voice bearing the weight of the years he has seen pass. "Please, don't shed tears for me, my sweet Earwen." He strokes her hair, "My silver-haired daughter."
Earwen wipes her tears and looks at her father. "How can I not, Papa? To see you suffer so breaks my heart. I wish I could will away all of your ills and all of the pain and make all right in this world for you. That would be my greatest wish, Papa."
Olwe smiles, so gently, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes noticable as he leans forward and gently kisses her forehead. "I wish you could as well, Earwen. But such is not the will..." his voice trails off. "Such is not to be at this time." He reached out and gently ran his fingers through her hair. "Earwen, I -I .." his voice falters for a second. " You must return to the Shining Lands. I am not leaving Alqualonde, and you, as my heir, must be removed to a place that is safe."
Earwen looks with concern at her father's tired eyes. Hearing the faltering words falling from his lips, she again feels the ice tightening around her heart at the thought of leaving her father in this condition. "As a dutiful daughter, my dearest Papa, I should stay and help nurse you back to health! Do not, I beg you, send me away without I first see you well!"
Olwe looks down and back, the voice sliding about his minds, laughing. "I...Earwen," he falters, "There is nothing you can do for me, Earwen."
Earwen looks questioningly at her father. "There is something you are not telling me, Papa?"
Olwe has the thought, "I want to tell her all," and the Voice pours itself over the thought, oil on water. "Yes," it cooes. "Do tell her. And tell her she is next." Olwe gives a shudder and looks into her eyes, so intent upon his. "Yes, there is, Beloved, " he says slowly, "But as you love me, ask me not what it is."
Earwen looks carefully at her father's face, seeing lines etched from pain, the lifting of an eyebrow, the small shudder of distaste as if there is something unspeakable he does not wish her to hear. With the serious tone with which he has spoken these words, and that he has asked her not to question him further, she understands that he is tryng to protect her and that in doing so, he may also be free to pursue whatever it is that he may have been forced into choosing.
"Coward, " taunts the Voice. "Tell her, Olwe. Tell her how if feels to have me inside." Olwe looks away from his daughter at that and whispers, "no." The Voice continues. "Tell her how I flow over every thought in your being, Olwe." Olwe draws in a breath, closes his eyes and says louder, "No," Again the Voice says, "Olwe, tell her she will be next." Olwe looks up and over at Earwen, panics and screams a heartwrenching, "NOO!"
Earwen sees the internal struggle further etched on her father's face and hears the scream burst from her father's lips. "Papa!" she gasps and pulls her father gently towards her, cradling his head in her arms and rocking him as she had her children when they were overcome by pain. "Papa, shhhh. I will do your bidding. I will sail on the next tide , dearest Papa. Know I love you always, and I will always cherish our time together."
Olwe gasps for breath, his arms encircling his daughter's waist, gently. Like a litany, he whispers over and over, "I'm sorry, Earwen, so sorry, sorry."
Earwen strokes her father's hair, soothingly rocking him, dropping a kiss on his head. "Shh, dearest papa, there is nothing to be sorry about. I will question you no further, and I trust that your decision, whatever it may be or whatever it may precipitate, will be right for yourself and the kingdom. "
Olwe closes his eyes and lets the gentle timbre of her voice wash over him, fastens his attention to her every word. He slowly pulls away and releases her waist to gently cup her face in his hands. "You have to know I send you from here out of love, Earwen," he said slowly, sadly. "Know, this, too. Of all the things I have done during the course of my life, being father to you, that was the most worthwhile thing I have done. Whatever may be come to be said of me, the greatest thing they could say would be: 'He was father of Earwen the Silver-haired, born of Alqualonde.' "
Earwen looks with loving eyes at her beloved papa, taking his hand from her face and kissing it as the tears begin to flow freely once again. "I love you, papa. Please have word sent when things are as they should be here in the Swanhaven. I shall be waiting with an eager heart to hear that all is well." With these words of farewell, Earwen kisses her father's cheek, places his hands on the cover, and smiles into her father's eyes. She then stands and walks silently from the room, not looking back lest the tears now pouring from her face cause her to crumble and beg her father to let her stay.
Olwe watches her, the pain of her leaving a sharp ache in his heart, but he stills his tongue from uttering her name, knowing if he did, and she should turn and answer, he could not send her away again.
> Next Olwë > Next Eärwen