Repairs and Regrets

Played by:
AelKennyr Rhiano
Shawn Daysleeper


"Noooooo!  Nooo!  Comet!  COOMMMMEETTT!!"

In the predawn, fitful doze that Olwe, Lord of  Alqualonde and Tol Eressea, King of the missing Teleri, slips into, he again watches helplessly as the coastline of Sylvhara grows smaller and smaller. Again, a giant hand of water lifts the graceful swanship and tosses her, like a child flinging a toy across a room in a fit of anger. The mast again is smashed, hanging off the size of the swanship, the sail in tatters, the wind a malicious fury as it fondles and then snaps the head of the swan off the masthead.

In his dreams he is again kneeling among the shredded folds of the sail, heart thudding in his chest painfully as he gasps for breath, shaken. He has angered a Vala; not just any Vala but the Lord Ulmo himself.

((He has angered.. Lord Ulmo himself.))

When the stormed died away, and the black clouds receded, a night filled with stars shone down upon the damaged swanship, the air turning brisk and cool.  There was no possible way to sleep down below, in the wreckage of broken casks, spilled trunks, broken pottery. The smell, too, which rose up from below the decks, from where the disguised Lord of Dreams and Visions, rendered the thought of sleeping down below impossible.  So, tapestries and bedrolls were hauled up to the deck and laid across it as best as they could manage. Teeth chattering, spirits as damp as the deck, they tumbled into their makeshift beds.  But Olwe laid there long into the night, blue eyes staring up at the stars that stared back, cold.

((The crippled vessel on a sandbar))

As the stars began to wink out in the coming dawn, Nole, who did not sleep at all, managed to guide the crippled vessel to a sandbar offshore of a mysterious land. He hopes the soft sand will stabilize the ship enough to foot the mast and work on repairs. With a slight anxious glimpse to the unknown land, he rubs the port side of his swanship in the sandy isle; then he looks over the ship. His sight of Olwe, though leads him to reflect on the events of the night. "How could he have set out on this journey and not told me that Ulmo had forbidden it? And he HAD to defy Osse!"

(("How could he have.. not told me?"))

 He knows that Queen Comet, his cousin, is important to Olwe, and there is still some mysterious concern regarding her, but it is foolhardy to defy a Vala's wishes. Watching the waves a moment, he sees they have arrived here at low tide. The appearance of the sands seems to indicate that high tide would not be far off. "My king," Nole says in a slightly annoyed voice, "we'd best make repairs before the tide comes in."

((He looks around the wounded ship))

Olwe turns his head, blue eyes, red rimmed, meeting Nole's. He gives a soft nod, noting the tone of Nole's voice. He has a right to be angry, Olwe thinks to himself. He looks around the wounded ship. Nole's ship, the one he had designed and built himself.  Shame at the cost of his foolish actions makes the Teleri Lord shy as he moves to join the sea merchant.  He lifts his gaze, once, over the calm blue water, seeing nothing but a grey morning fog, blurring the lines of a coast nearby. "Yes, my friend," Olwe answers, and then reaches out and grabs the younger elf's arm. "Nole..." he starts, his voice trailing off, uncertain.

((He is between anger and forgiveness))

 Nole lets his king take his arm a moment. He is between anger and forgiveness. As he looks over everything that needs to be repaired and sighs in despair, the anger seems to build. Long ago he built a model of this ship and showed it to his king as a child. He remembers Olwe's face then: he was so kind. Nole  went on to build this ship: he knows everything about it. He has sailed his ship a long time, and in many places along the western shores of Middle Earth and the eastern shores of the Blessed lands, From the icy hazards of the Cape of Forochel in the north to the green shores of Belfalas in the south. He has called in dozens of ports and witnessed severe storms of the natural world with naught but a scratch on his beautiful swanship, but the anger of a Vala was more than his ship could sustain. Pulling his arm away, he set about repairing the ship. Trying to dismiss his anger, he asks, "That land," he nods to the misty shore beyond the isle, "I suppose we would not find a place there to repair my ship?"

((He watches Nole pull away..))

Olwe watches Nole pull away and drops his hand. Lifting his other hand up to push his wind tossed, salt laden hair from his eyes, he turns his gaze to the grey mist covered mass just beyond them. He peers intently through the fog, and his voice when he answers is not the confident tone of a king but the soft, hesitant tone that a much younger Olwe once had. "I know not," he says softly. "The coastline is hard to make out from here. I cannot see rocks, but I cannot tell much about the shoreline, if we will find soft beach."

((He peers intently through the fog..))

Nole nods to his king. "It is an unknown land, and it is not wise to trust a strange land and strange people to repair my ship. We must make what repairs we can here." Constraining his anger, he conceives a plan to foot a mast and attach a sail so that he has more efficient steering.  With a plan in mind, he looks at his king. "I have devised a way to get us moving again. I must go below deck and get supplies," he says bluntly and goes down into the hold.

Nole enters the cabin below deck and looks for the tools he needs to fit the mast and also o repair the starboard side where he noticed a deep notch that may take on water later if they encounter high swells. He also sees his chest of clothes and thinks he may feel better in dry clothes. With a sigh, he knows he should not be angry with his king and begins to think he should make amends with him. "He is only being concerned for his kin," he thinks as he makes for his chest and looks around.

He sees Estelin on the floor beside the chest that is part way open. He also sees spots of vomit around and... in the chest! "What!?" he exclaims glaring at the musician. "What did you..."

Estelin sighs, waits for Nole's next words. "My socks!" Nole cries "my dry socks.. ruined!" In anger he exclaims to Estelin, "You have to launder my clothes... no! Don't do that!" Nole says as he remembers anything Estelin touches seems to be ... ruined somehow. "Olwe got us into this. He will wash my clothes and... my socks!"

((Olwe bows his head))

Olwe bows his head as Nole moves back from him and below deck.  In his wake, Olwe glances up to see the set of Nole's shoulders. As Nole disappears below, Olwe rouses himself, and moves to leap upon the little islet there, this pile of sand, claimed by two trees, cradling the injured swanship as it bobs a little in the low tide.

((His eyes scan across the boat...))

His eyes scan across the boat, and he winces at the amount of  damage.  This boat is..was.. Nole's pride and joy, his youthful achievement.  Kneeling down, Olwe reaches down and scoops up a handfull of sand, the clothes on his body crusted so with salt, they crackle and crunch. "Lord Ulmo, forgive me. Forgive me for what I have done to this young elf." He bows his head. "My pride, my foolish, foolish pride."

(("My pride, my foolish, foolish pride."))

((Nole.. finally comes and sits with him.))

Leaving Estelin alone, Nole comes back to the deck and sees his king sitting on the sand. With a sigh he approaches him and lays out tools and supplies on the sand. He sees the same gentle Teleri he loves and cherishes. Trying to forget he angered the powers that be, and they wrecked his ship on the open waters, he finally comes and sits with him. "I am sorry, an anger took me," he says, still looking over the damage. "It also seems our.. sea ... elf musician vomited in my socks because he is seasick," he says slowly. After a moment he turns to look at Olwe blue eyes, the thought of someone vomiting in his socks actually causes him to suppress a grin.

(("I am sorry. An anger took me."))

Olwe stares at him, in open-mouthed surprise, his blue eyes widening as he listens. "Wait, " he says, "What? He-he actually.." He looks, instinctively toward the ship and then back to Nole. "He had the presence of mind to actually grab a sock. In the middle of a horrendous storm, and get sick in it?" He blinks several times, and then a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Blessed Eru!" Olwe rocks back, sitting down upon the sand, and breaks into laughter. "Oh-oh," he says, and leans against Nole, laughing helplessly. "My friend, my friend, I should wash those out, but let us instead offer them to the fishes in  hopes it may soothe Osse's ire, and in Grey Havens will I buy you new socks, and a sea chest with a stronger lock!"

He looks at Nole, straightening back up and looking seriously. "I violated your trust in me," he says, simply, his blue eyes meeting Nole's. "I have no excuse for it, other that it was foolish pride and pent up anguish, for long were we encapsuled by ice. In all this world, there is only you, I, and Comet who bear the blood of the Teleri such as we do. We, who were once as numerous as the stars. Kin we have in Middle Earth, descendants of those who made not the trek to the West. But their blood has mingled with others, and they are Teleri no longer but something else." He heaves a large sigh.  "Forgive me, Nole. Forgive an aged elf who let his wisdom be driven by need and anguish and pain. Please, can you do that?"

(("Forgive me, Nole... Can you do that?.."))

(("...but I will let you take care of my socks.."))

Nole looks at his king a while taking in all his words. He has not encountered many kings abroad that spoke in such humility. Olwe is kind and loving, and despite all that happened, Nole trusts him. "Yes, I forgive you," he says "but I will let you take care of my socks. I will complete these repairs shortly, and we will cast off from here with the high tide. The Grey havens are close," he says as he looks up studying the position of the sun. "The stars last night gave me an idea of where we are, and the trajectory we should pursue to the Grey Havens. There we will make complete repairs before pursuing our next task."

((Olwe smiles a little at Nole's words..))

Olwe smiles a little at Nole's words, spoke with care and with thought, it seemed to the Teleri Lord. He reaches out and gives one of Nole's arms a squeeze. "I thank you, friend Nole," Olwe says with grave humilty. Then he stops, his brow furrowing and looks over at Nole, saying slowly, "Take care of your socks?"  His eyes cast back to the ship, a faint noise rising from the bowels of the injured craft. "Oh, oh, he is not getting sick again, is he?"

(("Oh, oh, he is not getting sick again, is he?"))