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Olwe feels her words settle about him, the implication unsettling as he watches this mother care for her child. He looks at her face, the seeming youthfulness of the skin not hidden by the beard, but her manner of speaking, so weary sounding to his ears. "Why did you fear elves, little Mother? Did you not take passage aboard an elven ship?"
"A Human ship. Few ships of the Elves carry trade these days. In the old days, they say the Elves did. And in the old days, even in the days of my grandmother, the Dwarves traded with the Elves. But now, nearly all the Elves ships have left. Gone far away, they say."
Olwe exhales softly, a breath he had been holding, he now realizes that he had been waiting to hear an elven ship that carried her here. Elven kin still trading, who still can be found upon the seas. He drops his head and slowly nods, then looks back up. "This is still far for humans to sail, and without the guidance of the Morning Star, I should wonder how they still navigate with surety upon the waters of the world, unless it be Ulmo guiding them."
Olwe slowly extends his hand to indicate the chair the dwarf mother had vacated. "Please, my ...my lady, be seated," he says, and with the grace of his race, he slides into his own chair. Pushing a plate of fruit over closer to her, he adds, "And please, have some fruit. You have been through much in your travels, it seems."
Aztryd slides the plate in nearer, and helps herself to an apple. Even after two plates of Nole's cooking, she is still eating briskly. "Yes," she says between bites. "I never realized how difficult travel is. Especially by ship." She shudders at the memory. "I'm glad to be off that ship." The baby on her lap chews toothlessly on a small piece of milk-soaked bread, dribbling it onto Aztryd's shirt.
Estelin continues to eat the food placed before him, taking care to follow the actions of Olwe and the dwarf. His fork slips from his hand, but he hastens to recover it. "I suspect then that you would not want to depart Alqualonde soon?"
Watching Azytryd with her child, Olwe feels a little nostalgia for the days when he, too, held his baby in his arms, smelling the clean, sweet smell of her hair, watching over her as she slept, smiling at her cooing, and even the way he, more often than, wore bits of her meals on his shirt and sleeves. He raises his eyes and takes in her face, see her weariness and her wariness.
"I don't really know where this place is. I was planning to walk the rest of the way home. But yon Nole -- and an excellent cook he is -- says it is not possible to walk from here."
Olwe briefly glances to Nole. "No, indeed, it is not," he agrees, looking back at Aztryd. "Alqualonde is but a short sail from Sylvahara, the realm of my Cousin, Comet." He pauses and takes an apple. "And from there to parts of middle earth such as known to mighty sailors like Lord Nole."
Estelin: nods to the dwarf's response. "Excellent cook" he says aloud as he chews the food. He did not notice any difference in taste of this food than that of the soup they had a while back. He notices, though, that everyone is eating Nole's food much faster than they ate Apakenwe's and his soup. Nole blushes a little at his king's remarks. He continues to cook some desert, the aroma of cinnamon bread and nuts fills the room.
"A Human ship. Few ships of the Elves carry trade these days. In the old days, they say the Elves did. And in the old days, even in the days of my grandmother, the Dwarves traded with the Elves. But now, nearly all the Elves ships have left. Gone far away, they say."
Olwe exhales softly, a breath he had been holding, he now realizes that he had been waiting to hear an elven ship that carried her here. Elven kin still trading, who still can be found upon the seas. He drops his head and slowly nods, then looks back up. "This is still far for humans to sail, and without the guidance of the Morning Star, I should wonder how they still navigate with surety upon the waters of the world, unless it be Ulmo guiding them."
Olwe slowly extends his hand to indicate the chair the dwarf mother had vacated. "Please, my ...my lady, be seated," he says, and with the grace of his race, he slides into his own chair. Pushing a plate of fruit over closer to her, he adds, "And please, have some fruit. You have been through much in your travels, it seems."
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| Aztryd and Nizl |
Estelin continues to eat the food placed before him, taking care to follow the actions of Olwe and the dwarf. His fork slips from his hand, but he hastens to recover it. "I suspect then that you would not want to depart Alqualonde soon?"
Watching Azytryd with her child, Olwe feels a little nostalgia for the days when he, too, held his baby in his arms, smelling the clean, sweet smell of her hair, watching over her as she slept, smiling at her cooing, and even the way he, more often than, wore bits of her meals on his shirt and sleeves. He raises his eyes and takes in her face, see her weariness and her wariness.
"I don't really know where this place is. I was planning to walk the rest of the way home. But yon Nole -- and an excellent cook he is -- says it is not possible to walk from here."
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| King Olwë |
Estelin: nods to the dwarf's response. "Excellent cook" he says aloud as he chews the food. He did not notice any difference in taste of this food than that of the soup they had a while back. He notices, though, that everyone is eating Nole's food much faster than they ate Apakenwe's and his soup. Nole blushes a little at his king's remarks. He continues to cook some desert, the aroma of cinnamon bread and nuts fills the room.
Olwe polishes his apple upon his sleeve but pauses before he takes a bite," My Lady, will your husband pursue you to your destination? "He casts a worried gaze upon the small child in her arms. The aroma of the cinnamon rises up from the oven, and he sniffs appreciatively.
Aztryd absentmindedly wipes off her shirt with a napkin. After a week of travelling, her clothes are so dirty that it hardly matters. She sighs tiredly at the king's question. "Aye, he will indeed pursue us. Or attempt to. He may or may not have guessed our destination. I had hoped to make good speed with that ship, and get home well before he could arrive. But, with the storm, he may be beating at the gates of my grandmother's home even now. He and his warriors."
Olwe lowers the apple from his mouth, and his blue eyes fasten upon her, taking in her travel worn clothes, her tired expression, the tone of her voice."May I ask, why need you to continue your travels, for the time being?" He looks around. "You find us empty of the usual populace and in the midst of great mystery and great anguish. But you are most welcome, my Lady, you and your child." He watches her face to see her reaction.
Aztryd glances around the room uncertainly, seeing kindly faces, but all foreigners. She looks down at Nizl on her lap, contentedly mashing wet bread into her ears. "You are most kind. Our first plan was speed, and that is not how events turned out. I admit that some rest would not be unwelcome. If I went home now, I might find my husband between me and the doors, which would not be a good situation at all. But he will make all manner of extravagant claims against me, and I will not be there to tell the truth of the matter. My kin likely won't believe everything he says ... but ... but alas, I do need to find some way to get there, to explain the truth of the situation." She looks wistfully toward the kitchen, with its smell of baking bread.
Olwe's face grows thoughtful, and he bites into his apple, chewing as he contemplates. "Can you read navigational maps, by any happenstance, my lady?"
"Eh? I can read an ordinary map, of land. Are sailor's maps different? Would not a map of the sea be all full of ... empty sea?"
Nole overhears the conversation and steps into the room bearing a loaf of cinnamon bread. he places it on the table. "Not necessarily, mi'lady. Sea maps have pathways which ships follow between ports."
Aztryd 's eyes track the cinnamon bread. "Pathways you say? Then I suppose they must be something only sailors can see. All that sea looked the same to me. And how ships find their way is a great mystery." She doesn't mention that she is here because a ship failed to find its way.
Olwe leans forward in his seat, his mouth watering as the bread is set upon the table. He looks over at the diminutive mother and says, " If we know a destination, a message could be sent to your family," he offers, looking over at Estelin and Nole for their agreement.
Nole nods to his King. "I agree sending a message would be both faster and safer. While I have plenty of charts, the key navigational aid is missing. It would be very difficult to sail a true course without the Morning Star."
"But," counters the king, "watching Aztryd's eyes as she watches the bread, "If we were to know where your home lies exactly, the message could be sent there." he offers a knife to Nole for the bread.
Nole takes the knife from Olwe with a smile while Estelin watches curiously. He then begins to slice the bread into portions. Aztryd 's eyes take on a thoughtful look. "Sending a message ... aye, if you could get message through, that would be a great help. If my kin heard from my own hand what that old wolverine had done, they would send him running, and emptyhanded! Much as I would like to see it myself! But a message would be safer. It is Gamilfûn where they live. In the Blue Mountains. Hardly a day's walk from Grey Havens. You must have heard of it? Large dwarf settlement. Very old."
Aztryd absentmindedly wipes off her shirt with a napkin. After a week of travelling, her clothes are so dirty that it hardly matters. She sighs tiredly at the king's question. "Aye, he will indeed pursue us. Or attempt to. He may or may not have guessed our destination. I had hoped to make good speed with that ship, and get home well before he could arrive. But, with the storm, he may be beating at the gates of my grandmother's home even now. He and his warriors."
Olwe lowers the apple from his mouth, and his blue eyes fasten upon her, taking in her travel worn clothes, her tired expression, the tone of her voice."May I ask, why need you to continue your travels, for the time being?" He looks around. "You find us empty of the usual populace and in the midst of great mystery and great anguish. But you are most welcome, my Lady, you and your child." He watches her face to see her reaction.
Aztryd glances around the room uncertainly, seeing kindly faces, but all foreigners. She looks down at Nizl on her lap, contentedly mashing wet bread into her ears. "You are most kind. Our first plan was speed, and that is not how events turned out. I admit that some rest would not be unwelcome. If I went home now, I might find my husband between me and the doors, which would not be a good situation at all. But he will make all manner of extravagant claims against me, and I will not be there to tell the truth of the matter. My kin likely won't believe everything he says ... but ... but alas, I do need to find some way to get there, to explain the truth of the situation." She looks wistfully toward the kitchen, with its smell of baking bread.
Olwe's face grows thoughtful, and he bites into his apple, chewing as he contemplates. "Can you read navigational maps, by any happenstance, my lady?"
"Eh? I can read an ordinary map, of land. Are sailor's maps different? Would not a map of the sea be all full of ... empty sea?"
Nole overhears the conversation and steps into the room bearing a loaf of cinnamon bread. he places it on the table. "Not necessarily, mi'lady. Sea maps have pathways which ships follow between ports."
Aztryd 's eyes track the cinnamon bread. "Pathways you say? Then I suppose they must be something only sailors can see. All that sea looked the same to me. And how ships find their way is a great mystery." She doesn't mention that she is here because a ship failed to find its way.
Olwe leans forward in his seat, his mouth watering as the bread is set upon the table. He looks over at the diminutive mother and says, " If we know a destination, a message could be sent to your family," he offers, looking over at Estelin and Nole for their agreement.
Nole nods to his King. "I agree sending a message would be both faster and safer. While I have plenty of charts, the key navigational aid is missing. It would be very difficult to sail a true course without the Morning Star."
"But," counters the king, "watching Aztryd's eyes as she watches the bread, "If we were to know where your home lies exactly, the message could be sent there." he offers a knife to Nole for the bread.
Nole takes the knife from Olwe with a smile while Estelin watches curiously. He then begins to slice the bread into portions. Aztryd 's eyes take on a thoughtful look. "Sending a message ... aye, if you could get message through, that would be a great help. If my kin heard from my own hand what that old wolverine had done, they would send him running, and emptyhanded! Much as I would like to see it myself! But a message would be safer. It is Gamilfûn where they live. In the Blue Mountains. Hardly a day's walk from Grey Havens. You must have heard of it? Large dwarf settlement. Very old."
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| Estelin |
"She can sail without this missing star?"
Olwe finishes chewing another bite of apple, nodding. "Indeed, she is very skilled and most helpful." He pauses. " And she, too, has known the joys of motherhood."He deposits the apple core onto his plate. "Shall we then, finish breakfast, and as I help Estelin to clear the dishes, Nole, would you help my Lady to find Elwing?"
"Very kind you are,"she says, helping herself to a slice of the cinnamon bread. It tastes as good as it smells.
Nole nods. "Yes, my lord, I will make sure she finds Elwing and delivers the message." He smiles to Aztryd.
Olwe looks at the scant remains of the morning meal and back over at the dwarf mother. He will have to speak with Nole. With their new guest, they will need new supplies, and very soon, from Sylvahara.
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