Nolë Goes to Olwë

< Previous  

Shawn Daysleeper and AelKennyrRhiano

Shadows fell across the throne of Olwe, King of the Teleri elves, Lord of Alqualonde and Tol Eressea. As the Lord of the Swanhaven descended the spiral staircase, his blue eyes fell upon the throne and lingered. A small smile played about his lips for a moment as he recalls how Earwen, his daughter, had sent him a new cushion a handspan of years before with a note in her tight, elegant hand. She had remembered how worn the old one was, and being the dear daughter she was, she made him a new one, Swanhaven blue with tiny seed pearls and accented with gold. Now, drawn to the empty seat, Olwe crosses the throne room and mounts the raised dias. Reaching out, he touches the cushioned back of the throne with outstretched fingers. "Strength through unity."  His brow knitted as he read the words.  "We are one short now," he murmurs, and his hand drops back down to his side.

Flustered by suspicion, the Teleri sailor ascends the hill towards the palace. The pearl covered walls coated with blackened char, left over from the attack of the dragon and balrog some time ago. He pauses to look at the market below, now in shambles where not long ago he swept out his old stall where he sold his foreign wares. Much has happened since. He has lost a dear friend, loss that left a hole in him. He also doubts another. He needed answers: he has to go see his king. He ascends resolutely up to the palace.

Olwe turned from the throne  of silver, his eyes sweeping over the room.  It has rained, unceasingly it feels like, every day since the funeral of the swordmaiden, and during that time, a silence has descended upon the Swanhaven. Deep it was, and expectant, waiting. For what, Olwe knew not. And so the sounds of footsteps upon the throneroom floor startled him.  Looking toward the doorway of the palace, Olwe saw the merchant Nole, framed against the morning's watery grey light. Glancing up, Olwe could see the dark clouds gathering again. Dropping his gaze, he looks into the eyes of the Teleri sailor and studies the face of his friend.  Stepping down to the lower part of the dais, Olwe greets him. "Good morrow, Nole. I think rain will be our lot again this day."

Nole approaches his king. Nodding, he says, "Yes, it seems that the rains of the world weep at our loss." He stands before his king. "I hope this morning finds you well." His resolute attitude falters some, now that he is here by his king. With a deep breath he posits his concern. "I wish to speak about the Musician Estelin."

Olwe watches Nole's face carefully, unable to read the emotions that flit across it, so quickly. At the merchant's last statement, Olwe feels a small lurch. Stepping down off the dais, his foot rests upon the soft, thick carpet that ran the length of the throne room in one direction, directly in line with the doorway. Keeping his voice even, Olwe nods and answers, "Of course, my friend. What about Estelin?"

He bows his head, hoping he did not sound too accusing. "I went to see him this morning and show gratitude for his assisting Elenwe, but when I spoke of the other musician Apakenwe, he... he did not seem to know how to respond. He seems..." He shows restless body language, as if not sure what to say. He is unsure how he should say what was really on his mind and choosing the right words is difficult.

Olwe bows his head, his eyes seeming to study a pattern on the ground, his head nodding as Nole speaks. As the younger Teleri pauses, Olwe glances up, his blue eyes intense. The small laugh lines around  Olwe's mouth are pronounced as he prods the younger elf, both not wanting Nole to proceed, but also unable to avoid what was surely to come, in Olwe's mind.

"I.. I think he is not what he seems.He did not seem too concerned his sister is missing." He thinks back to when he wanted to form a search party soon after the dwarf mother,  Aztryd, arrived with her baby. With all the recent events, having Apakenwe nearby seemed most logical. "My king, I would like to go look for Apakenwe. Should we not form a search party?"

Outside the skies were the color of old metal, and large drops of rain began to pelt the ground. Just without, on the veranda, the sound of the drops hitting the floor was loud. For a moment Olwe turned his head toward the sound. "And so, here is our rain," Olwe said softly, and with a soft sigh, he turns his head back to the waiting Nole. The ever patient, ever faithful. Clasping his hands behind his back, he moves a step closer, so that the two might hear each other easily.  "When you say that he is not what he seems, Nole, what do you mean? He is but a musician and a fine one, to be sure."

"Yes, but..." Nole begins to doubt himself somewhat before his kind king, but he had to tell him his thoughts. "His regard for his sister seems somewhat missing. He does not seem too concerned for her absence. I find it odd they suddenly appeared here one evening, and... he or his sister can't cook at all!" He pauses for a moment before voicing his final concern. "While we have found some missing Teleri abroad, how was it that the two of them found their way here if our land had indeed moved to the mortal world when the rest of our kin vanished?"

Olwe pats one hand against the other as they remain clasped behind his back. Tilting his head, he nods absently, standing still only a hand's breadth from the sailor. "They do strike one as a a curious pair, " he begins slowly.  Outside lightning weaves a jagged line across the sky.  A few seconds later, thunder shakes the floor beneath then. His eyes flick to the view of the sky just over Nole's head. "I am glad I sail not during this storm," he says to Nole.  His eyes glance over at Nole, to see if the merchant can be swayed a little from the conversation.

Nole turns around so he can see the sky where Olwe is looking. The seas beyond the harbour are very rough. "I do remember we were out there last winter, when I brought you home from Queen Comet's realm. The aurora dancing across the northern sky, and your failing health. It seems so long ago when that happened."

Reaching out, Olwe claps a hand to Nole's shoulder and gives a reassuring squeeze. "Yes," he says softly. "It does. I should not have come through that dark time without you, Nole. Your loyalty, your calm and thoughtful deliberation, your friendship and love. I would not be here this day, I think me, if not for you." He pauses and takes another step to stand level with Nole as they both, now, look outside. "Nole, one thing is clear. We must take leave of Alqualonde for a time. We must determine what has become of our kin in this world, where they are, who survived, and what allies they have. A Balrog and a dragon found our shores, too. If we do not see our allies, I am convinced our enemies will seek us out."

 Nole smiles at Olwe's proposal. "Yes, I would like to find more of our kin, there are many unanswered questions we need to pursue. I can prepare our ship whenever you are ready, my king."

Olwe nods, breathing a little easier now. "Consult your maps and journals, my friend. Once this rain eases, and the swan I dispatched to Sylvhara has returned, we shall set sail and leave our beloved home safe in the hands of Lord Ulmo." He pauses and adds, gently. "I am sorry, Nole. Apakenwe went off on her own without my permission or my knowledge. If she has not returned by now, I am certain that to search for her would be a fruitless venture. They are both musicians, and odd in their ways, but I know not of the customs of the world now. I have been in Aman for these turns of the ages. I have allowed myself to have the trust that Estelin knows his sister, and would sound an alarm, if he thought the need." He looks over at Nole and holds his breath, hopeful that this will satisfy the trustworthy sailor.

 Nole:lets out a sigh. If his king trusts Estelin, then he acknowledged he should as well. Nodding, he bows. "I will consult my charts and prepare for our departure my king." He turns to leave, already his mind filled with tasks he had to see to before departure.

Olwe watches the sailor turn and leave, no word of farewell falling from Nole's lips. There are no courty bows, no flowery phrases of parting. Just like that, Nole's mind turns to the task at hand, and, for the moment, the matter of Estelin and his missing sister is put to rest.

For the moment.

> Next Olwë     > Next Nolë