AelKennyr Rhiano
“And I mean to attend to that sliver of fear, my Lord, and put it aside by visiting my sweet Cousin.”
Ulmo, Lord of the Waters of the World, swallows a breath of air, feels the firm, defiance from the Teleri Lord slide down his throat and stick there. His ocean blue eyes darken with anger, and his mouth compresses into a tight, thin line. "So, the fear of one elf is worth self indulgence at the expense of your entire people, Olwe? Shall you feast upon the vision of her face and tell her of your weakness, that to gaze upon her is worth more than the sum of your people, her people, all the elves alive and all the elves to come?" Ulmo grew a bit taller and stared down upon the Lord of Alqualonde with sea cold eyes. "I am sure she will be gratified to know the cost of the visit to assauge your fears."
For a moment, Olwe holds his breath, stunned by the words that flowed from the Vala, his head growing light and the blood pounding in his ears. Never has Ulmo spoken so to him, and blood rushes to his face as he stands there, feeling chastised like a child caught refusing to share a toy. He drops his gaze for a moment, but when he lifts his eyes again, they are a bright and hard blue. "No," he says, his voice finally defiant. "I will not accept that. No, I shall not. Not after watching my people die here, on these docks so long ago, and for what, my Lord? To uphold the will of the Valar...to refuse to give the Noldor that which would aid their defiance of you." Olwe wraps his cloak back around himself and paces, a slow anger rising. " I knelt in their blood, I held them as they died. I watched children being orphaned and wives and husbands being widowed. All to hold to the will of the Valar.
"And when, my Lord, I was held, trapped in mind and spirit to an enemy I could not see, I could not touch..."
"An enemy sure to rob you of life and sanity," interjects Ulmo, his own voice deepening as his anger settles upon him. "An enemy defeated not by your fierce will alone but by that same will of the Valar."
Olwe dips his head, stops in mid pace and nods softly. "Surely, my Lord, I would not be here before you, save but for the Valar. I know that." His voice has gentled, gone quiet and still. "But, my Lord Ulmo, tell this humble Child of Eru, would that evil have sought me out if I were not the choice of the Valar? If I had not been singled out to do your will? Did my people disppear because they have lived in Alqualonde, fair Swanhaven, for centuries in peace? Or because an unseen and dark hand wished to punish them for holding fast with you?" He lifts his eyes, and there is a soft, old pain in them. "Because, my Lord, I wonder that. Because, my Lord, I fear it may be so. In my dreams the voices of my people cry out to me. 'Do not, our king, forget us.'" He lowers his gaze and instead looks out over the sea. "And I cannot forget them. I cannot forget Comet." He breathes in the cold air, and he feels it stab him all the way down. "And I will go to Sylvhara, my Lord Ulmo. I will go."
Like the foam left atop the water after the tide has come in and died away, so, too, is Olwe's pain and uncertainity and anger. It mingles with the salt of the air and lingers in the corners of Ulmo's awareness. "Do not defy the Will of the Valar, Olwe, "he cautions the king, even as his anger seeps away, replaced but a deep sadness.
"Is this the will of Valar, my Lord?" asks Olwe, looking back up at the Lord of Water. His voice is flat, a little tight as he continues. "Or is it your will?" He stands a little straighter as he continues. "For my Lord, I owe you much and more. I have kept faith and hope and been ever obedient. I have served with all that I am. I shall serve, still. But.." he drops his hands to his side, "if your will is that I abandon my cousin, that I shall not do. I will go to Sylvhara."
The look Ulmo gave Olwe was all the more terrible for being devoid of all anger. "No," says Ulmo. "You will TRY to go to Sylvhara." And with that, the Lord of the Waves shatters into millions upon millions of drops of ocean water that with a loud splash, return to the sea.
> Next
Ulmo, Lord of the Waters of the World, swallows a breath of air, feels the firm, defiance from the Teleri Lord slide down his throat and stick there. His ocean blue eyes darken with anger, and his mouth compresses into a tight, thin line. "So, the fear of one elf is worth self indulgence at the expense of your entire people, Olwe? Shall you feast upon the vision of her face and tell her of your weakness, that to gaze upon her is worth more than the sum of your people, her people, all the elves alive and all the elves to come?" Ulmo grew a bit taller and stared down upon the Lord of Alqualonde with sea cold eyes. "I am sure she will be gratified to know the cost of the visit to assauge your fears."
For a moment, Olwe holds his breath, stunned by the words that flowed from the Vala, his head growing light and the blood pounding in his ears. Never has Ulmo spoken so to him, and blood rushes to his face as he stands there, feeling chastised like a child caught refusing to share a toy. He drops his gaze for a moment, but when he lifts his eyes again, they are a bright and hard blue. "No," he says, his voice finally defiant. "I will not accept that. No, I shall not. Not after watching my people die here, on these docks so long ago, and for what, my Lord? To uphold the will of the Valar...to refuse to give the Noldor that which would aid their defiance of you." Olwe wraps his cloak back around himself and paces, a slow anger rising. " I knelt in their blood, I held them as they died. I watched children being orphaned and wives and husbands being widowed. All to hold to the will of the Valar.
"And when, my Lord, I was held, trapped in mind and spirit to an enemy I could not see, I could not touch..."
"An enemy sure to rob you of life and sanity," interjects Ulmo, his own voice deepening as his anger settles upon him. "An enemy defeated not by your fierce will alone but by that same will of the Valar."
Olwe dips his head, stops in mid pace and nods softly. "Surely, my Lord, I would not be here before you, save but for the Valar. I know that." His voice has gentled, gone quiet and still. "But, my Lord Ulmo, tell this humble Child of Eru, would that evil have sought me out if I were not the choice of the Valar? If I had not been singled out to do your will? Did my people disppear because they have lived in Alqualonde, fair Swanhaven, for centuries in peace? Or because an unseen and dark hand wished to punish them for holding fast with you?" He lifts his eyes, and there is a soft, old pain in them. "Because, my Lord, I wonder that. Because, my Lord, I fear it may be so. In my dreams the voices of my people cry out to me. 'Do not, our king, forget us.'" He lowers his gaze and instead looks out over the sea. "And I cannot forget them. I cannot forget Comet." He breathes in the cold air, and he feels it stab him all the way down. "And I will go to Sylvhara, my Lord Ulmo. I will go."
Like the foam left atop the water after the tide has come in and died away, so, too, is Olwe's pain and uncertainity and anger. It mingles with the salt of the air and lingers in the corners of Ulmo's awareness. "Do not defy the Will of the Valar, Olwe, "he cautions the king, even as his anger seeps away, replaced but a deep sadness.
"Is this the will of Valar, my Lord?" asks Olwe, looking back up at the Lord of Water. His voice is flat, a little tight as he continues. "Or is it your will?" He stands a little straighter as he continues. "For my Lord, I owe you much and more. I have kept faith and hope and been ever obedient. I have served with all that I am. I shall serve, still. But.." he drops his hands to his side, "if your will is that I abandon my cousin, that I shall not do. I will go to Sylvhara."
The look Ulmo gave Olwe was all the more terrible for being devoid of all anger. "No," says Ulmo. "You will TRY to go to Sylvhara." And with that, the Lord of the Waves shatters into millions upon millions of drops of ocean water that with a loud splash, return to the sea.
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