Cinnamon Raymaker and AelKennyr Rhiano
Dawn came, pink fingers stretching out to claim the sky from the stars and moon, sending Tilion's vessel back to its port. Olwe, Lord of Alqualonde and Tol Eressea, King of the Teleri elves, rose from his bed as the sky began to lighten. Sleepless-- unable to sleep, to dream-- he rubbed gritty eyes, and moved to his clothes chest, donning his finest. Upon his brow, he rested the pearl circlet, given to him ages ago by Ulmo himself. Perhaps, perhaps, from his watery palace, Ulmo will cast his gaze to the Swanhaven and see its king has not forgotten the love the Lord of Waters has shown him and his people. His missing people. Perhaps, Ulmo's heart will warm and understand...
Olwe has to go to Sylvhara. He has to see his cousin, his closest kin in the mortal world now that he has been torn asunder from his people.
As Olwe crouches down, he watches a swan mother and baby swim peacefully as just beyond them the mighty Alqua still sleeps, tired even now from her journey across the leagues to Blue Mountain. Today, he will begin his journey and his most loved Alqua will stay home, with his niece, Elwing the White. Drawing in a sigh, Olwe can hear the sounds of people moving about below the deck of Nole's swanship. Soon....soon...
Elwing walks purposefully through the deserted marketplace and down the white marble steps to the docks, hearing the calling of the seabirds and the gentle lapping of the waves as they beat timelessly upon the shores of her uncle's kingdom. A brisk breeze in the air carries the smells of the ocean towards her, filling her with memories of times gone by. As she rounds the last column at the docks she spies her uncle before her and smiles, noting the tiredness touching his eyes and the treasured pearl circlet given to him by their benefactor Lord Ulmo.
He raises his gaze to look out over the water, shifting a little as he stretches up to watch the sun slowly climb over the horizon. The sky continues to lighten as the waters lap against the wooden docks, a tireless, endless, reassurance he missed these months that winter held Alqualonde hostage. He draws in a deep breath, tasting the salt in the air, feeling the pull of the waves, the kiss of the breeze. The spirit of the Teleri rises to the lure of the sea, and their king is no different. He, too, wishes to be upon the waters of the world, but unlike the wishes and wants of fisherfolk, his needs and desires are much and more...they are nothing less than the finding of his people and the turning away of an eternal blackness.
Elwing walks up quietly behind her uncle and places a hand gently on his shoulder, sensing there is inner turmoil raging inside him. She realizes that in order to help him, she would have to put aside her concerns and stay and guard over his kingdom awhile longer. "Good morrow, uncle. I sense you did not sleep well. There is much on your mind?"
Slippered feet crosses the wooden docks, and a hand reaches down to rest lightly upon his shoulder. Elwing. He reaches up with the opposite hand, and crossing his arm over his chest rests it atop her smaller, delicate one. He turns his head slightly to give her a tight smile, but his eyes are still drawn to the sparkling, dancing waters of the sea. "Good morrow, niece. I slept well enough, well enough." He pats her hand, and, tearing his gaze away from the water, he stands and turns around to face her, to face Alqualonde. "How slept you? Your sleep comes easier now?"
Elwing smiles as her uncle rises to his feet. Looking up into his brilliant eyes she answers, "I am indeed sleeping better, uncle, though I still see pictures of broken places appearing through my dreams. I wonder if it is a warning, uncle. You must promise me that you will take every precaution and return safely."
Olwe speaks. The words fall from his lips, but his mind marvels at his own words. He feels far away, distant as he, too, listens. "Much and more will the dreams of the elves be troubled. Complacent we have become, we Firstborn, and sure our world will never change, never challenge us to be more than older brethren of a young and feckless race. We forgot ourselves, how the darkness with no stars and no moon can sweep across the face of Eru's creation and snuff out our lives at its pleasure. We forget the Deceiver always awaits. And for our forgetting now, it comes, the time of a darkness falling, falling ever, and we shall not sleep well until we rise as one and meet is as Children of Eru...for whom this world is made."
Elwing closes her eyes as she listens to her uncle's voice - those dark times seem to be reaching out to them all more often. Shaking her head, she feels the pending tears stinging her eyes at the thought of the sky without the morning star. Blinking away the tears before they have a chance to fall, she looks in awe at her uncle and bites her lip, trying to regain her composure.
He watches her close her eyes, and his heart lurches, for has she not been through enough? Has she not given enough? Her own husband is lost to her, to them all. The Morning star, the promise of hope, carried he who must be her hope, her love, her joy. His hand reaches out, and he lightly brushes her cheek. " I know, " he says softly, "You want him with all your heart. I cannot begin to know your ache, and I would ease if I could." He pauses and gives a hard truth. "But I cannot."
Elwing lightly touches her uncle's comforting hand and nods her head, sighing. "This I know too well, dear uncle. Thus I ask that you complete your quest and hurry back. I will do my best to look after things here while you are gone, and I will pray that you all return safely."
Olwe gives a soft nod. "As long as you are in the Swanhaven, you are protected by Lord Ulmo, as is Alqualonde protected. Thus, two jewels of great worth are kept safe. Surely, Elwing, you know once you leave here, and begin your search, the danger will be great. And there is no certainty you shall find your Beloved, or the morning star."
Elwing nods. "This I understand, Uncle; however, finding my beloved is what I must do. Resting here awhile will allow me to regain my strength, and I will also be serving the purpose of preparing a haven for whoever returns with you. If that helps the greater good then at least it is not time wasted. It should also take your mind away from worrying about the Swanhaven. Believe me, uncle, I appreciate the opportunity to have some time to think on the future. I can only hope it will prove useful to everyone in the long run."
At his back, the tide was singing to him, calling him, "Olwe, Olwe." It was rising up and pulling away from the shore, and the Teleri king must needs now take aboard the swanship of the sea merchant. The time he had been waiting for, impatiently, angrily at times, the time was here, and yet, as he looks into Elwing's eyes, his heart misgives the parting. "The days will be long and longer. Maisi is ill tempered company, but the swans of Alqualonde will talk to you. You know their speech. " He reaches up and touches under her chin. His words next are in Sindarin. "Rest, daughter of my brother's line. Find in your heart where your Beloved's image burns brightest and feed it with all your love. Let that flame warm you as we are away. You are Elwing the White, of a mighty elven line. Much and more have you suffered and yet prevailed. More and more you will prevail over again." Then he leans over, chastely kisses her cheek. "Go, Elwing. Mount the walls of the docks, as so many have done over the years. Let your eyes be dry, and your heart resolved. Raise your hand in farewell, and wait for the day when it is raised to give welcome."
Elwing smiles at her uncle's words and resolves to bid him farewell in a manner befitting the Princess she is. Cupping his cheek fleetingly in return, she gently turns away and mounts the steps, all the while fighting the urge to shed those tears which have not yet fallen, knowing in her heart that would make her seem weak and vulnerable - something she knew her uncle could not deal with in this moment. Lifting her head high and pasting a loving smile on her face, she turns to face the swanship as it pulls away from its moorings, raising her hand in a gesture of farewell and whispering, "Be well dear Olwe, Lord of Alqualonde and King of the Teleri. Your safe return is first and foremost in our hearts and minds."
Elwing calls to the birds of the Swanahven to join her in her farewell, and the air is soon full of their chorus. Singing the ship safely onwards, and, hopefully, safely home.
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