The End of an Era

This is not a role play post.  

However as events on Alqualonde at the moment affect the posting of role play here, it has been decided to share these events.  After many years and much love devoted to it from residents, merchants, role players and visitors, our beloved Alqualonde the Swanhaven is being redesigned and redeveloped.  Building in preparation for this has been in progress for some time, however the time has now come to put things into place.  

As you will appreciate this is not an overnight process and is very time consuming if it is to be done well.  So with this in mind there is currently a two week hiatus in the role play while the new Alqualonde is built.  All other regular events and meetings are also in hiatus during this time. 

Tonight was the beginning of this process. As you all know, to rebuild, first what exists must come down.  So it was with mixed emotions tonight the existing palace was demolished.  It really was the end of an era.  

Last glimpse of a beloved home.  Demolitions charges are set.

She starts to fall..

..and fall..

Going...

... going.. 

... going.. going.. 

Almost gone.. 

The towers fall...

Timberrrrr... 

Only rubble remaining.. 

The site is cleared and leveled.

Over the next two weeks, a new palace will be put in place, a new harbour will be built, the new city will take shape.  Today was the end of an era.   We all know that when one era ends, another begins.  We invite you to continue to walk with us on our journey.

The Fellowship of the Fourth Age. 

Forgiveness and Ancient Kings

Played By:
AelKennyr Rhiano
Jasper Dragonheart
Shawn Daysleeper


Whether Middle Earth or Aman, fires stoked up as well as the one in the cookfire stove of the Green Leaf Inn, burn with a merry and bright fire, the pop and crackle of flames dancing along the burning wood a comforting sound to any ear.  Olwe of Alqualonde, Lord of the Swanhaven tilts the little book he purchased in the marketplace earlier this day and turns a page with a long, tapering finger. A slight frown on his face, he concentrates on the paragraph, reading it again for the fourth time.

"Called Naugrim, Khazâd, and Gonnhirrim, these stunted little people are called 'dwarves,' among my race.  Short they are in statute, with little in the way of physical attractiveness. Indeed, in my travels, I have come across reliable accounts which confirm that their young are hatched, much like chicken. Huge eggs, bulbous and smelling of sulfur....."

Olwe groans and closes the book.  No, this human writer has obviously never been amongst the Khazad. Eggs, indeed. He cradles the book in his hands, and stares into the fire. He has not seen Nole since this morning, and here, alone, he finds he misses the reassuring presence of his friend more than he can express.

Olwe groans and closes the book

Nole enters the tavern common room. He sees Olwe sitting quietly alone, staring into the fire. He feels a slight tinge of anxiety about the damaged ship as he sees him. But then he knows his own burden of the mission. He feels a longing to be at his side. He crosses over to him and stands before him. "My king," he says quietly so others around cannot hear. "May I join you?"

"May I join you?"

Olwe looks up with a start. A slow smile curves his lips at hearing the words, "my king." He pats the bench beside him as he turns to set the book down upon the table. "I got that in the market, at that Atani bookseller.  I think the closest the writer got to dwarves, though, was probably in the stories of others." He looks over shyly at Nole. "How are you, friend Nole?"

"I am well." He nods back shyly and takes a seat beside Olwe. "The dwarves are misunderstood by many," he says, unsure how to proceed with telling Olwe about the shipwright Miro coming for dinner. Yet he would have to do so very soon: he will likely arrive any time. He looks at Olwe, wondering if he has further things to discuss.

"The dwarves are misunderstood by many."

Olwe gives an absent nod, his blue eyes peering intently as the sea merchant sits down beside him.  Softly he speaks, telling Nole about Comet's visit and his discussion with her.  Then as he finishes, he looks back at the fire and then again at Nole.  "I'm sorry about the ship. Your ship. I remember when she was built. I remember how you have always been in love with the swanships and the sea." He takes a breath.  "Nole, I...I can't explain how it came about that I didn't tell you all before we left. But, I swear to you I was not trying to deceive you.  I value you more than that."

"...I value you more than that."

Nole listens to Olwe as he speaks. His words of kindness and caring are different from those words of that stormy night. Whatever happens he knows Olwe is loving and is very protective of him. He smiles and nods. "While you do not need to apologize to me, I am glad you are the same Olwe I know and love."

Nole listens to Olwe as he speaks.

Olwe turns more to face Nole, the firelight playing across his features, highlighting the little creases around his eyes. "No, Nole, I do need to apologize. A king is responsible for his actions, always. I was self-serving, selfish, and drowning in my own frustrations. Your ship paid the price. I am lucky that Ulmo was merciful, for had I lost you because of my perfidy, I should moan it the rest of my days and beyond."

"..I do need to apologize."

Nole listens quietly, unsure of what to say to his king. The words mean a lot, but in his shyness he is unsure how to respond. "My king, I do not know what to say. You touch me."

Olwe reaches out and gently rests a hand on one of Nole's arms. "Say to me, if you can, if your heart has found it so, that you can forgive an errant king. For when it is all said and done, Nole, we are both children of Eru, and Teleri.  We are each other's nearest kin in these dark days. But most of all, the heart has made us brothers of love, brothers in the spirit." He pauses and says quickly, "For it is how I see all our people, Nole. One heart, One spirit. One kinship."

"I forgive you, brother of love and spirit" he says as he takes Olwe's arm. "We are one heart, one spirit, one kinship."

Olwe gives the younger elf a long and searching look, his gaze thoughtful, warm, kind.  Then he softly clears his throat and changes the subject, lest both elves grow ill at ease with the emotions surfacing.  "So, friend Nole, tell me of your day?  How did you fare with securing a means to repair the ship?" He pauses, and adds, "Which I will pay for, please."

"..tell me of your day?"

"I think I have found some interesting information about the repairs. In the early morning I went to check on my ship to assess what has to be done to repair it. When i got there I found an elf by my ship this morning. I had an interesting conversation with him and... well," he blushes slightly as he thought about Miro's appearance, "he seems to know what he is talking about."

"He seems to know what he is talking about."

Miro stands in an arch of the harbor, gazing out over the moonlit expanse of the Gulf of Luin, his blue eyes thoughtful below his low, straight brows.   The silence of the now deserted harbor is at odds with the clamor of his thoughts. He has been too busy all day to think much on his agreement to meet Nole tonight, but once he stops work, closes the ledgers, checks the progress on current work and finally had makes his way back to his home, the enormity of it dawns on him.  Who is he to think he knows better than the Master of a Swanship?

"You're a Master Shipwright, lad.  And a right fine one at that!" His father's voice echoes through his head, and his lips curl into a small smile.  And the old elf was right.  While not vain, at least about his work, Miro is honest enough to see the proof of the old elf's words in how their shipyard has thrived.  Even so, his father had refused to even look at his plans for the Swanship, let alone agree to build it.  This will be the first time he has shown them to anyone.  "He's just another sailor, Miro," he admonishes himself. "No one special."  He shakes his head, his freshly-washed dark hair lifting in the light breeze from the harbor. "And just who are you fooling with that?" he mutters to himself as he turns and makes his way across the plaza to the Inn.

Olwe tilts his head a little, his gaze shifting to the blush upon the sea merchant's face.   An eyebrow lifts at this uncharacteristic response to such a simple conversation between them.  "Oh," he responds, his voice even, with only a hint of his curiosity in its inflection.  "Who was he, Nole?  What did he say to give you a favorable impression of his knowledge?" He pauses and leans back against the edge of the table, relaxed, now that again things were less tense between them both.  "Does he know about swanships? I  know there are a fair number of sailors with swanship designs, but I think me none quite like ours?"

"This elf I met... he said he is a shipwright and builds ships here in Grey Havens. He has a facility here near the lighthouse. He believes there are some design flaws with my swanship. I have asked him to come share what flaws he observes and he also said he has some ideas as solutions. By your leave, I think that you might be interested to meet him and listen too."

Miro tugs at the bottom of his jerkin to make sure it is straight and pats the rolled up parchment under his arm nervously as he hesitates before the door of the Inn.  Taking a deep breath, he places his palm against the door and waits as it disappears before him.  A gust of warm air wafts past him, redolent of ale, woodsmoke and the smell of cooking meats.

...he hesitates before the door of the Inn.

Miro steps through the door and pauses in the doorway to survey the room.   He blushes at how his pulse leaps as he sees Nole already sitting at a table with another elf.  As his long legs carry him with easy strides across the room his eyes dart over the strange elf.  Rich fabric forms his attire and long silvery hair hangs well past his shoulder.  A merchant perhaps?  Possibly a would-be passenger bargaining for passage upon Nole's ship?

Miro gives a small mental shake of his head. No, not that, he thinks, now he is closer and can see his features. There is an easy familiarity in how the two are speaking together that belies the thought they are strangers.  A relative? Brother perhaps? No, although both silver-haired there was no familial resemblance in their features that he could see. Too soon he is across the room and the conundrum remains unsolved, as he pauses next to the seated pair and nods a greeting. "Good eve to you both."

"Good eve to you both."

Olwe starts to respond to the sea merchant, but the soft tinkling captures his attention, a sign that the door of the inn is allowing someone to enter the room. A strong and steady sound of boots striking the well-polished and worn wooden floor causes the Teleri king to turn slightly. Blue eyes look up at the elf who stops before them both.  Dark hair tumbles in waves upon waves, and in the face, Olwe can see the high cheekbones and steady gaze that gives him a start.  Tall is this elf, nearly as tall as Olwe himself. He gives the stranger a small smile and turns an even more curious gaze back to Nole.

He gives the stranger a small smile...

Nole looks up at the elf before him and smiles. "Miro, I am so glad you have come." He blushes slightly and tries to hide it. "Miro, this is my brother, Olwe." He gives Olwe a shy smile. "Olwe, this is Miro. I invited him here to have dinner with us and to discuss the swanship."

Miro nods his head respectfully as he is introduced. So he is a brother? Then one must take after one parent and one the other.  His lips curl into a small smile of amusement as he greets Olwe and murmurs, "I see your parents must have enjoyed the tales of the ancient Teleri and their legendary King to name you after him."  He finally turns his eyes to Nole, and his smile changes from one of amusement to one of warmth, "It is a pleasure to meet again."

Olwe flushes with pleasure as Nole introduces him to the tall, dark and handsome elf standing in their midst.  Brother, yes, Nole has heard his words, and taken them to heart.  But then, as Nole flushes during the introduction, Olwe looks slowly from one elf to the other, and his smile widens.  Never has Nole blushed so, meeting someone, much less in introductions so shy.

Olwe turns his attention to the tall elf before him, and answers, his blue eyes twinkling. "What know you of the ancient Teleri, friend, and of their king? How came he to be, as you say, legendary?" He pauses and sweeps a hand in the direction of the table. "Sit, please, join my ...brother and I."

Nole smiles and is quite happy Miro held to his promise. He is also happy about his brotherly relationship with Olwe. He notices the rolled up parchments under his arm. "Are those the designs you spoke of? That show the flaws of the swanship?" he asks, trying to keep the conversation on track and hide his feelings. After all, Miro is a resident here and will likely not be coming with them after this repair on the ship. There is no point in developing feelings for Miro. "Maybe we can discuss the plans?"

Miro's eyes never leave Nole even as he replies to Olwe's questions. "All the young elven boys in a seaport such as this have heard of that ancient King and his deeds and his legendary swanships." He tears his eyes away from Nole at last and looks at his brother. "It would seem though that even legends are not perfect as I was mentioning to Nole this morning.  The swanships are flawed."  He smiles as he hears the interest in his plans in Nole's voice.  "Please, let me show you."  Rather than take a seat, he steps around to the end of the table and takes the roll of parchments from under his arm, giving a shy smile to Nole as he does so.

Olwe gives the other elf a wide smile, his blue eyes twinkling with merriment.  Ancient, is he?  He bites his bottom lip and swivels around to face the table as Miro unrolls his bundle and spreads out sketches upon sketches, notations, drawings.  Intent now, Olwe slides one over and scans it, his expression thoughtful.  He takes his finger and points to a point along the sketched prow of the ship design.  "This is much different than how our ships are traditionally constructed. Why the design change?" He lifts his gaze to rest upon Miro as he waits for his answer.

Nole was going to interrupt Miro during his introduction as he shares his understanding of the Ancient King Olwe but decides to let it go. He looks at Olwe and sees he is looking at the plans. He takes it all in, and waits for Miro's explanation.

Miro fumbles a little as he lays his plans out on the table.  He runs his eyes over them briefly as he gathers his thoughts, at first sliding the plan away that has captured Olwe's initial interest. He begins to explain. "Before we look at the new design, you need to see the flaws in the old design.  My parents had a Swanship when they arrived here in Grey Havens.  They were beaten into port by a storm of a ferocity rarely seen, and barely made it into safe harbor, their ship greatly damaged.  It has lain in the state in which it arrived at the back of our shipyards all my life.  I would play in it as a child, with other elf children, pretending we were Olwe and his Teleri."

Miro grins. "See, the old Elf king was a favorite of ours." He looks down at the designs again, "As I learned my trade, I looked at the Swanship anew and I believe I have found some flaws that leave it vulnerable to such storms."

He takes a breath and points to a parchment, with the original swanship design on it. "I believe the hull is too shallow.  It does not give sufficient footing for a strong enough mast, which is why yours snapped, as did that of my parents' ship.  The problem is the ships were designed for minimal crew, so their size is limited to what one or two elves can handle. I think I have a solution to that, but we'll get to the solutions in a moment.  First, more flaws."

Miro points to another drawing on the parchment next to it. "And here, see how the cleats were ripped from the side of your ship?  There are two problems causing that.  One is the strength of the timber used for the hull construction.  The other is how much time it takes to lower a sail during a storm." He glances up to see if they are following what he is saying and nods approvingly as he sees the understanding that springs from knowledge written upon their faces. "Again, I believe I have solutions to this.  I have also designed a system that allows the ship to be swifter and far more maneuverable than the current design.”

He glances up.. and nods approvingly

Olwe carefully listens, nodding here and there, his blue eyes dropping down to the sketches as he follows along. "Yes," he says softly, as he contemplates the younger elf's words. "When we came to the West, we had gentle seas upon which to sail, and we stopped often." His eyes grow soft, a faraway look in them for a few moments. "And the Maia Osse gave us the knowledge to design the swanships, which we have little changed these passing of the years." He gives Nole a sideways look, his expression still thoughtful.

Olwe carefully listens

"I see why you brought him to me, Nole," he says to the sea merchant. "His sharp eyes spot what ours have been blind to.  As ever your keen instincts are true." He pauses and nods as he rises gracefully to his feet. "I shall leave it to you, my brother Teleri, to strike what arrangements we need to build a ship by his design."

He turns his attention to the other elf, his carriage and manner now that of a king, used to commands. "We would obtain your services, young Miro, to construct for us this ship of yours.  You have impressed me, young shipwright, and, it seems, more importantly, you have impressed my best mariner. Whatever the arrangements Nole makes with you, I shall honor upon the morrow, drawing a line of credit here for your use."

He includes both in his gaze, his eyes once more playful. "Now, if you will both excuse me, this 'ancient king' will take his leave of you both, and allow more youthful minds to hammer out the details. "  With a soft chuckle, he gives Nole a wink and moves toward the stairs leading up to the sleeping quarters.

Nole blushes a little as his king departs. He is not sure if it is from being with Miro alone, or if it is from Olwe's revelation of his kingship to Miro. He offers Miro a seat next to him. "So, dear friend, shall we start planning?"

"So... shall we start planning?"

Room for Improvement

Played By:
Jasper Dragonheart
Shawn Daysleeper


Miro glances up at the deepening blue of the morning sky.  He knows he should return to the shipyard and prepare the paperwork for the delivery of the merchant's ship. The morning light grows stronger, although the air is still brisk as seabirds squawk and squabble overhead. Yet he is loathe to leave the Swanship.  He glances up at the Sylvan ship on the far jetty and then back to the smaller craft before him.  No, a Swanship does not need to be as large and elaborate as that, but yes, there is definitely room for improvement.  Again Miro runs his hand over the raw torn timbers, pondering what has caused such damage.  Hissing he jerks his hand back swiftly as a slither of wood wedges itself in his thumb.  Absently he sucks the wound as his blue eyes continue to roam the damaged vessel.

...there was definitely room for improvement.

Nole goes down to the ship to investigate the damage left to be repaired. Now that Olwe is safe at the Inn he has time to think about his ship. There are already a few elves at work in the early morning, but Nole does not pay them much mind. He knows he has to repair his ship for the long sail home. As he gets closer to his ship, he sees another there, standing right beside it. He does not expect to see anyone near the ship. He could see at once the one standing there is elven and a male. At once he sees he is rather attractive but, like others he has seen, he hides his feelings from himself.  He has a task to do and he has to evaluate the ship.

.. he has a task to do..

Miro is so absorbed in his thoughts about the Swanship he does not notice the approaching footsteps until the other is almost by his side. Glancing up, thumb forgotten and still in his mouth, he expects to see one of the many elven fishermen who head out to sea at this time of day in search of the day's catch.   It is no fisherman who now stands before him, but instead it is the tall mariner who commands the Swanship.  For a moment it is all Miro can do to remember to breathe as he stares in awe at the elf standing before him.  Gentle blue eyes used to surveying distant horizons gaze serenely at him, his handsome face framed by long, flowing silver hair.  Suddenly remembering the thumb that has become frozen in place in his mouth, he whisks it down and behind his back, surreptitiously wiping it dry on the back of his jerkin as he fumbles for words. "I... I was..." He ducks his head and coughs to clear his suddenly dry throat.  "Hello," he finally manages to get out.

"Hello."

Nole is looking over the swanship closely and does not realise the other elf approach. As the other speaks, his attention turns to him. He sees he is very handsome. He remembers years ago when he looked at other males attractively and that was one of the most important that he cared about. Since he became a mariner he put those feelings aside. And later when Olwe entrusted him with the mark "wisest of sailors" and he became an emissary, he rarely gave thoughts to himself. But as the other spoke, he suddenly feels years younger and less responsible. "Hello," Nole says in reply, almost childlike. As his ship creaks beside him, he remembers the present time and his responsibility. "Do you know about ships?" he asks in a more formal tone.

...he rarely gave thoughts to himself.

Miro lifts a hand to hide his smile before folding his arms across his chest. His eyes go again to the Swanship and he nods. "Aye. I know enough to know this one has been through something mighty. I have only seen one other Swanship so damaged before, and that was a long, long time ago." He lifts his eyes to Nole's as he continues, his ocean blue eyes puzzled. "I have seen you take harbor here before. I can tell the mark of a mariner by how they handle their craft. I never thought to see your ship in such a state. How did it happen?"

"How did it happen?"

Nole blushes a little at the other's words. "I... I got caught in... a sudden storm." He frowns. Rarely has he ever so damaged his ship at sea. The fact it is not his fault this time leads to his embarrassment in front of this handsome elf. "I assure you I take great care with my ship. This was just a special... circumstance." He does not lie, but telling the truth that his king angered a Vala and his Maia just did not seem right just now. With a slight thought of anger at his king, he hides his face a little out of embarrassment. "Yes,  I have been here before." He tries to divert the conversation. "But I do not recall ever meeting you. You know of me?"

...he does not lie.. 

Miro cannot help but notice the sudden blush of embarrassment of the other elf.   He understands well the pride that good captains take in their seamanship, and their care of their craft, and it shocks him a little that his one, the Master of a Swanship, would somehow blame himself for the damage that Miro knows is unavoidable with the ship's design.  He turns and nods towards the ship to save the other further embarrassment. "No, we have not met." he says absently as his eyes again roam the Swanship. "I am Miro, and I own the shipyards on the eastern shore of the harbor, beyond the lighthouse.  I make it a habit to know the ships that come and go here in Grey Havens. Swanships are not that common nor are such handso.. umm, skilled captains."

"No, we have not met."

Nole smiles a little at Miro. "I am Nole Eambar, and you seem to have a sound knowledge, Miro." He looks over Miro's form. It saddens him to know he has quite a base here and is well established in the Grey Havens. Nole and Olwe would likely be departing soon with the dwarves back to Alqualonde. After that there is Olwe's ongoing mission. Thinking long about Miro will only bring about sadness when they leave. "Yes, please," Nole nods approvingly. "Show me these flaws you speak of."

"Show me these flaws you speak of."

Miro  lifts a hand and tugs on one of the ornate rings he likes to wear in his right ear as he thinks a moment. "I must deliver a ship today, or I shall have a fat merchant hammering upon my door, but be you staying at the Green Leaf Inn, as you usually do?  I can call upon you tomorrow with some designs to show you what can be done, if it is your wish."  He wipes palms suddenly sweaty at the realization he was going to show this elf, THIS elf, of all elves, his secret and treasured plans for a Swanship.  He swallows hard as he waits for Nole's reply.

He swallows hard as he waits for Nole's reply.

Nole listens and nods approvingly. "I do not want to keep you or get you in trouble. I will be in the Green Leaf Inn. I look forward to seeing your designs when you are able." He suddenly feels warmer at the thought of seeing him again. "Maybe you would like to come this evening? We could have dinner together at the Inn."

"..We could have dinner together at the Inn."

 Miro feels his face flush with pleasure, and he smiles a long slow smile as he nods his head in acceptance of the invitation. "When you are so gracious and kind, how could an elf refuse?  I shall come to dinner, and I shall bring the plans." And then, with a spurt of audacity his smile widens as he continues. "What is more, I will look forward to it.  Good morn' to you, Nole.  We shall meet tonight."

"We shall meet tonight."

Cousins Reunite

Played By:
AelKennyr Rhiano
BelenosStormchaser Magic
Comet Quijote
Dylanfox Petrov
Linwe Zifanwe
Lyra Constantine
Malakyte Thorn
Powers Constantine
Shawn Daysleeper
Snowellenightthall Resident
Wind Adamski


"I will take Queen Llyra, Lady Pelinor and Lady Snow with me to the dock. Please repair to the big salon below and wait for me to return with them,” The Queen of Sylvhara announces.

Malakyte Thorne sniffs, her feet always being washed by the sea, and nods. Linwe, too, nods to the queen’s request.  Faulkes Voronwe bows slightly while Lady Pelinor smiles and leads the way. Keeping a respectful distance behind the queen, Wind Adamski follows his queen, as does Lady Snow.

“Let us go to a lower deck,” commands Queen Comet, and Malakyte nods and follows.

Wind Adamski casts a trained eye out over the surrounding sea and docks. Faulkes Voronwe comments, "I don't think I have even been on a ship this large or elaborate in all of my travels."

Malakyte steps to the side to be out of the way and warily glances across to the dock, not liking being in human form nor confined to the ship with strangers about to meet the Queen. Comet shivers, hoping for warmth in these northeast climes.  Llyra's silvered orbs remain unblinking as she stands on the slightly moving deck. Llyra's peacefulness remains as her trusted guard remains within reach. Powers finds the ship very confining as he can't spread his wings in such a small area. He starts to feel very anxious, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

Queen Comet steps up to the edge to see better. Pelinor Aurotharius immediately felt the deep sense of history of the place when she set foot on the jetty, she had visited the Grey Havens before, but it has lost none of their marvel for her. She locates what seems to be the greeting delegation on the wharf and nods to the Queen reassuringly.

Comet! Comet is here!  The news filled his heart, until his blood pounded his ears, the steady throb a song that kept tempo with the steady pumping of his legs, the steady slap of his shoes against the cobblestones of the street and then the ancient stones of the harbor. As he came to the docks, blue eyes look up, and the Lord of Alqualonde perceived, through eyes that mist with tears, the ship of the Queen of Sylvhara. His Cousin, his nearest kin. He could, as he blinks the tears away, see her slender form aboard the ship. He stops and stares, his chest tight with emotion long pent up.

...the Lord of Alqualonde perceived..the ship of the Queen...

Queen Comet recognizes King Olwe on the docks and waves as she might of as a child when they were young. “Cousin.” She turns and smiles in excitement to everyone, "It is Olwe!" Llyra Constantine slides into a position next to the Queen and waits quietly. Linwe peeks over the railing for a look at King Olwe, whom she has not seen for a long time. Wind Adamski stands, alert to one side of the delegation.

Queen Comet and entourage on the docks at Grey Havens.

Eilif hurries through the early morning.  Scurry as she might her feet are no match for the tall elven King, but her hurrying footsteps come to a halt as she perceives the ship in the harbor.  Towering above all the others, its sweeping lines majestic, even the line of the sails elegant, it takes Eilif's breath away.  Of all the ships that have come and gone during their time in the harbor town, none had come close to this.  Staring, she watches in awe the graceful beings upon it.

Olwe, Adelsteinn, and Eilfi upon the docks

Adelsteinn follows Eilif out onto the docks and sees Olwe staring at the ship. He has never seen such an impressive ship. It looks like a settlement on the waves. It looks sound and commanding in the waters. He walks up to Eilif and Olwe, still staring at the ship in its majesty.

Malakyte glances to Powers and nods reassuringly. Powers Constantine forgets for a moment he is uncomfortable on the ship, as he sees the Queen's excitement seeing her Cousin King Olwe.  Llyra steps up to the thick railing and lifts a hand to call a warm breeze before descending to the docks below.

Queen Comet

Comet sees that Olwe means to come to the ship.  She waits anxiously for her ladies.  Wind Adamsk follows his Queen to the docks while Power’s eyes look out over the bow, seeing King Olwe, as he watches the Queen run down the ramp to him. Malakyte sighs as she watches the others depart.        Comet embraces Olwe. “Cousin, dear! I heard about your ship. I could not get much information." She glances at the dwarven folk.

"My beloved! My Cousin!"

"My beloved! My Cousin!" He grabs her but gently by the upper arms and looks deep into her eyes. "This is beyond my wildest hope, my sweetest dream to see you. I have worried so, since my swans returned not from Sylvhara." Malakyte glances to Powers and nods reassuringly.

"I received no message. I fear for your messengers, the swans..."

"I received no messages. I fear for your...swans.."

Malakyte Thorne hopes that none of her dragons took the swans down. Powers Constantine watches the dwarves with curiosity, remembering a past where he spent much time with them. With his gaze lingering for a second, his attention returns to watch the Queen and King at their happy reunion. Linwe watches bemusedly at the King's great affection for his cousin, the Queen. She looks around at the surroundings and whispers something to Faulkes.  Faulkes Voronwe examines the King from afar and notes the he looks considerably better than the last time he saw the monarch. Malakyte continues to scan the area, alert for dangerous shadows.

"My swans," Olwe repeats, his eyes narrowing as he continues to drink in the sweet face of his Cousin. His mouth forms a hard line. "Who would desecrate swans beloved of Ulmo, older than most of the whole of Middle Earth and its creature?"  He looks about at the entourage. "How can it be my swans did not find you, Beloved?"

Adelsteinn watches Olwe embrace the other. His cousin he called her. He wonders if this is the ship that would carry them to Alqualonde. It does not seem so bad, now. He turns to Eilif, wondering her thoughts.

Eilif follows cautiously on Olwe's heels...

Eilif cautiously follows on Olwe's heels as he again moves forward and embraces one of those who have descended from the ship.  Her dark eyes widen at the strange array of beings upon the dock.  "Cousin?" He called her cousin?  Yet the elf that came to the Green Leaf in had mentioned her as Queen Comet of Sylvhara.  Even Eilif has heard of the lands of Sylvhara and their Queen.  Swallowing hard, she holds back, close to Adelsteinn and watches in awe.

Comet says to Olwe, "I have not been here for a long while. It is improved. The docks are well maintained.” She smiles to the dwarves: one could be a female. She wonders.

Llyra Constantine answers the king. "My apologies, King Olwe. There are many in these times that might find some other purpose for the swans."

Powers raises an eyebrow, looking at Malakyte and whispering, "I hope it wasn't any of Sylvhara's dragons that ate the swans. I know I didn't...thankfully.” Malakyte nods to Powers. “Nor I.”

Faulkes Voronwe mutters, "Good thing no one ever thinks to eat ravens."

Linwe whispers, "Aye, but some say ye are what ye eat....think on it."

Powers Constantine can't help but chuckle as he hears Faulkes."Don't take it as a given, Faulkes."

Linwe presses her lips together, having seen swan served most extravagantly on the orc King’s table recently. She does not wish to be the one to tell this kindly King. Comet swallows and clears her throat. "Cousin, I cannot but speculate what may have occurred. Let us not dwell upon it. I am here now and we are reunited." She skirts the issue and hopes he follows. Queen Comet smirks slightly as Faulkes’ innocent comment drift upon the air to her: she winces.

A red flush had crept up and filled the face of the Eldar elf, but at his Cousin's words, the color drains, and he gives a slow nod, allowing the issue to pass, as it seems his Cousin wishes not to answer in such a public place.

Adelsteinn looks at the gathering. He thinks that he should go tell his kin about the ship. He nods to Eilif. "I should tell the others about this." He looks to the crowd on the dock and bows respectfully in case he is seen. He then whispers to Eilif, "Perhaps keep an eye on Olwe." He then scurries off to the Green Leaf Inn.

Eilif nods in acknowledgement to the Elder, although her eyes never leave the group before her, "Aye, I shall keep an eye on Olwe.. and the rest of this strange group." She turns to give him a reassuring smile as he leaves. "I shall let you know all that I see later."

Queen Comet watches the dwarves curiously. Linwe watches with an arched brow as the dwarf runs off. She turns to Faulkes. "I wonder why he left so suddenly like that? Do ye nae think he would have stayed?" Powers listens and watches the goings on below on the dock. Curiously, one of the dwarves scuttles off, while one remains.

Slowly Olwe releases the Queen's arms and steps back, his gaze sweeping across the others. "My friends," The King of the Teleri says, warmly. "Good it is to see you once more."

Llyra Constantine inclines her head in deep respect for the King.  Wind Adamski stands impassively observing all.

Wind Adamski

Comet shivers, again. “My dear, can we go inside?” She smiles.

Olwe follows her graceful form as she makes her way up the plank and onto the enormous, great ship of the Queen of Sylvhara. Into a great cabin, they enter the carpet luxurious, the walls a deep red, and the furnishings elven and achingly familiar.  Olwe's eyes follow her as he walks in, breathing in a sigh. "Long have I worried for you, my Cousin," he says softly.

"I can believe it if your messages went astray,” answers the queen. "King Olwe, what is your connection with the dwarves, if I may ask?"

"...what is your connection with the dwarves...?"

Linwe tries to fade into a largish fern.  She is quite content with the pot of ferns and plays with a frond as she listens to the proceedings.  Faulkes thinks he could not have picked a better outfit to clash dreadfully with the carpet while Malakyte looks around, wondering where to stand and settles near the queen.  Powers looks around noticing there are no windows; although it appears to be lush furnishings for bipeds, the fresh sea air felt much more inviting.

Linwe tries to fade into a largish fern.

He draws breath to answer. "One of their kin strangely made her way to Alqualonde, shortly before we fell under attack.  A little mother and her child, fleeing a cruel and abusive husband. I lent her a swan to return her to the people of her birth, and bid our near kin, Elwing the white to accompany ther dwarf, as she was not used to flight." He pauses and then continues. "It was Elwing herself, upon her return from whom I learned that their settlement was attacked."

"One of their kin strangely made her way to Alqualonde."

Eilif watches Olwe disappear with the host of strangers onto the ship. She glances over at the near-wrecked Swanship nearby and back at this majestic creation before her. Now something like this looks sturdy. It looks like it would easily survive whatever had beset Olwe's battered craft. As the crowd clears, she strolls up the dock and makes herself comfortable upon some crates stacked there as she waits for Olwe's return. Assuming he does, return of course, and not sail off with these strangers. He has said he will help them, but he is an elf after all, so who can truly trust their word?

Eilif makes herself comfortable upon some crates...

Linwe’s ears flicker at this word of attacks. It seemed of late the whole world was under siege of one sort or another. Queen Comet nods, considering his description of the events. "I am sorry for them. What will they do now?"

"I learned this morn, once more the foul beast attacked their settlement. There is little left of it, and they are too small in number to survive and rebuild. I shall, if they will allow, take them to Alqualonde, as Ulmo himself blesses and keeps it safe. There they may rest and restore themselves."

She nods again. "That will be well. You can make them a comfortable home if not a customary one, in Alqualonde. We did have plague in Sylvhara. It nearly got a hold upon us but was deftly managed by our healers."  The queen glances to Linwe and smiles. Linwe returns the Queen's smile.

Olwe gives a heavy sigh. "I know of the history betwixt our two races, Comet, but in these dark days, we must find peace with the Children of Aule. Wrong has been done on both sides, and both our races face the same coming darkness. It has begun.  The coming of the Shadow. Its hand stretches forth and touches all we cherish."  He stops and whirls about to look at Linwe. "Plague?  When?" Malakyte Thorne listens thoughtfully and glances at Linwe.

"Wrong has been done on both sides."

"Within the last several months. It has moved to Uhre and Port Crimson, perhaps others,” says Comet. Linwe blinks at the King's addressing her. She stammers, "Nay a fortnight past, but we have skilled alchemists and healers and did rid ourselves of the pestilence." Comet nods to Linwe's reply.  Malakyte smiles at the thought of Linwe’s quick recovery.

Comet’s voice softens and she rests her hand upon Olwe's arm, "You need not tell me of the rise of the shadow world, cousin. I am well aware of it and raise our might to defend against it."

"you need not tell me of the rise of the shadow world."

Plague. For a moment, the floor seems not solid beneath his feet. If he had journeyed to Sylvhara as he intended, would he had carried that pestilence here, to their kin and to the dwarves themselves. Suddenly, Ulmo's injunction made a deadly sense. "Plagues do not often pass so quickly. It has a nefarious feel by the sound of it."  A smile curves his lips at Comet's words, and the look he turns upon her is one which chases the careworn line from his face. "Forgive me." he says, "If I seemed to school the Queen. It was not my intent. For I see the great Queen she has become. I feel driven, Comet, driven by the Vala to unite our people. It is one of my waking and sleeping thoughts. That, and to find my missing people and one day be reunited with my Tilion."

Queen Comet nods to what she believes he guesses of a deliberate plague unleashed upon them.  Linwe’s eyes flash to the King at his use of the word "unite," and her ears tilt forward. She looks at Faulkes, and cocks a brow at him. He smiles at Linwe and nods knowingly.

"I have always understood your purposes Olwe, even when you have not seen it. You are the leader of a brave people and bound to reunite them.” She gracefully seats herself.

"I have always understood your purposes, Olwe."

Olwe gives a nod, seeing his cousin, now, as others in the room see her. Not as his Cousin, the graceful, youthful elven maid from a younger time, but a great Queen, with much on her mind and the survival of her people to ensure.  "Please, tell me news of Sylvhara, of our other kin, such as you know," he asks, his voice sure and measured, now a king in his own right, a cousin no more.

Linwe’s hands are behind her back, playing with the fern. A small pile of crumpled fern leaves are drifting to the floor as she nervously plucks at them, watching this encounter and wondering. Malakyte stands a bit straighter, noticing the change in demeanor of the elven royalty.

Malakyte Thorn

Eilif leans back against the crate and lets her eyes roam the ship as she waits for Olwe's return.  So maybe he is who he claimed to be, and maybe he is someone of importance and substance after all, as Aztryd had said.  But still it sat ill with her to put her future in the hands of an elf, no matter how highly connected he is.  Sighing, she has to admit she has heard nothing but good of the Queen of Sylvhara.   Tugging upon her beard thoughtfully, she has to admit to herself that it is possible that not all elves are the same.  Possible.  Sighing she crosses her hands behind her head and continues to wait.  These elves were nothing if not verbose, so she could be here a while.

Tugging upon her beard thoughtfully.. these elves were.. verbose.

“Nearly every elf clan has refugees that have come to Sylvhara. In my father's day the northern clans were a bit isolated, perhaps. We knew little of our distant relations and nothing of our southern clans. The Shadow spead. It covered the world, and we had to fight it back." She lowers her eyes to the floor for a moment, "I have seen no Teleri, Cousin...none but you and your surviving folk.”

The stillness in the air, the feeling of tension, the body language in her attendants....all these things Olwe notes carefully, for each thing tells powerfully of the fear and the anxious expectation that has descended upon the people of the peaceful land ruled by a gracious queen.  He finds a chair and sinks into it, his breath painful in his chest.  Dumbly he nods. The commission placed upon him is now harder than he knew, and more vital. His hands grip the arms of the chair until the knuckles are white.  "Surely there are our kin, like here, scattered about the whole of Middle Earth. The Atani (humans) are not prepared for this darkness. They cannot stand without us," he murmurs, and the gaze he lifts is one dull with dread knowledge.

Powers Constantine is startled as the King takes a quick seat, he hears his labored breath. For a moment he almost rushes to his side to aid him but realizes he is stunned by the news of the shadows. Llyra Constantine rakes a bare foot through the carpeting, wishing it were the lush grasses of her beloved Celume. Llyra's hands curl as grass begins to grow about her feet at a whim, and moisture seeps from her silvery skin to wet the delicate blades. Her ears perk at the distant sound of a Sylph's laughter, and she sends a breeze winging in its direction. A warning to not intrude upon the Royals as they visited and discussed state business.

"Yes of course, Olwe…" She reacts to his distress. "I meant only that none have come to Sylvhara, dearest."

Snow's gaze lowers for a moment...

Snow's gaze lowers for a moment to the floor hearing of those who are refugees and she continues to quietly listen. Linwe murmurs, "I have heard it prophesied that the fate of this earth lays nae any longer in elven hands but in the humans. ’Tis they that shall determine whether the world shall live in Light or in Shadow. Have we taught them well enough?"

"Old prejudices and old hatreds must die, too," He continues softly. "And new alliances." He looks up to include those not of elven blood in their midst and gives a soft smile. "And friends who stand with us in the darkness and help us hold light and life." Blue eyes lift to look over at Linwe. "I believe, in my heart, the way lies with all of us holding fast."

Powers Constantine nods to Olwe with a warm smile reassuring him we are all together in this fight. Dragons are devoted to the Queen and all the Light seeking to keep the Shadows in their place. Malakyte Thorne nods slowly to Olwe's words, her eyes on the elven king.

“Linwe..." Comet gestures to the grand shaman to come and look at Olwe. A wave of anguish moves across her face as she reaches for Olwe's hand

Linwe steps forward and inclines her head to the King. "Ye be nae well, Majesty. Ye rale in yer lungs and yer breathing be off. Tell me what ails ye beyond yer grief?"

Olwe gives a dismissive wave of his hand and softens it with a gentle smile. "Nay. nay, I am well, but struck to the heart with the weight of what will come." He looks over at Comet. "I shall return to Alqualonde, with the Khazad, and once they are settled. I shall go to the old outposts of our kins.  Seek what news I have of them, and draw them forth." He reaches out and takes his Cousin's hand. "If they will follow an aged king from the West."

"Shall we transport you, Majesty? I am happy to take you and ..your dwarven folk to Alqualonde."

Linwe reaches into her pouch and pulls out a waxed parchment folded over dry herbs. She holds these out to the King. "Please, Majesty, accept these. Put a handful in a a brazier at night afore ye sleep and they will help." Queen Comet nods to Olwe at Linwe's suggestion.

Olwe reaches out and takes the offered parchment, giving a bow of his head. "I thank you, gentle lady, and am honored. Yes, I shall do as you instruct, and you have my great good thanks." He pauses and places the package in his lap. Answering his Cousin, he says, "I have not yet obtained their permission to return with me." He gives a rueful smile. "They are a most...obdurate people, and prideful. I hope to rebuild the swanship, to give them time to come to see it is their best hope for survival."

Comet nods in understanding. "Let me send you a ship with a crew for your use. You may keep them as long as you have need. You cannot go home in such an unseaworthy vessel as brought you here."

He draws a breath and adds, "And then I must humble myself unto Lord Ulmo, for I was disrespectful to one who has saved my life many times over and who protects my Swanhaven. Prideful and disdainful I was, and bitter is the cup which has been mine to drink since."

Comet raises an eyebrow out of his view as she cannot imagine that he can mean himself. But he continues. "I would ask a favor of that crew and ship instead of being sent here for my own convenience." He looks at Comet. "Would you consider sending on to such ports as you trade with, for knowledge of our kin and potential allies?"

"I will not be out maneuvered by my cousin. You will have the ship and that is as it shall be. If you wish I shall send others out to seek information." Comet stands taller with her chin set as when he would challenge her as a child; he will get nowhere.

Eilif watches the sea birds wheel overhead against the deepening blue of the morning sky.  The waters of the gulf slap against the hull of the great ship, as though resenting its intrusion upon its mass, but the ship remains, sturdy and barely moving against the lap of the wavelets.  The beautiful timbers creak slightly from time to time and again her eyes are drawn to it.  Being a swordsmith she can appreciate the fine craftmanship that has gone into its making.  Sleek lines, good proportions and subtle but rich time all speak of its Royal status.  "Why can't they do anything plain and simple?" she mutters to herself, still not quite ready to let go of her prejudices. "Why do they have to be all fancy?"

"Why do they have to be all fancy?"

Now that is a look he remembers, Olwe thinks, and despite himself, his lips curve into a smile.  "How now, when, my gentle Cousin, when did I EVER out maneuver you, but have found myself wrapped as a band about your smallest finger?" Llyra Constantine hides the smile behind silvered fingers.

Lyra Constantine

"That is more like it, Cousin. A more congenial attitude.” She smiles. "Of course we shall see you get home without sinking or anything inconvenient."

"That is more like it, Cousin."

Powers Constantine whispers to Malakyte,"It would just be easier and much quicker to let the dragons fly them back to Alqualonde." Comet smiles to Powers, overhearing him and knowing that she certainly loves a ride but cannot say the same for her cousin.

"It would be easier and quicker to..fly.."

Malakyte Thorne nods slowly. “Indeed.”

Faulkes Voronwe whispers, "And, frighten them half to death?"

"And frighten them half to death?"

"Or sniff them," Llyra remarks candidly.

“Can ye sniff summat half to death?" Linwe ponders this a moment.

Malakyte whispers, “But not likely the dwarves would allow it if they catch sight of us.”

Olwe gives her his most brilliant smile and nods. "Of course, Cousin. So shall we say  that if I do not arrange for suitable passage home, I shall be most honored to be conveyed to beloved Alqualonde aboard this wondrous ship?" He gives her another brilliant smile, allowing his gaze to travel over the furnishings. "Of course, I think that perhaps it should be refitted in Alqualonde blue."  He turns a serious expression upon her.

Comet relents out of exhaustion. “Very well.”

"It's been close a few times that I have witnessed." Llyra turns her eyes to the Shaman and smirks.

"We must depart, my dear. I cannot keep my Paladins and warriors here long."

Olwe rises smoothly to his feet. “Shall you port here, or are you on your way back to Sylvhara?" He reaches over and takes his Cousin's hands.

Faulkes Voronwe speaks to Olwe. "Perhaps His Majesty needs a ward to keep things away from his ship's keel?" Comet smiles to Faulke’s kindness.

Olwe turns a grateful expression to Faulkes. "I should be most honored, friend."

Malakyte Thorne catches the slight movement and her eyebrows go up a bit.  Faulkes Voronwe nods, and smiles at the Guardian. "Not here. I would have to be at the ship."

"And perhaps from here, then, I may arrange for the strawberries in the hold of my swanship to be sent onto you, in Sylvahara?" He winks as he moves to hug his Cousin.

"Ah!" her face lights up. "Majesty, may I suggest couriers for our letters instead of your beloved birds. That way we shall be assured of the exchange."

Casting aside decorum, and kingship, he scoops his Cousin up in a great hug. "I knew that would return a smile to your face." He nods at her words." Yes. I think so."

...he scoops Comet up in a great hug.

Powers Constantine hides a chuckle behind a talon as the Queen's suggestion.  Queen Comet laughs and shrieks in surprise and delight. Linwe coughs politely behind her hand. Powers Constantine lowers his eyes to the floor as they hug each other one final time before we depart.

"I should like that you know, you are in my heart, Cousin. Forever,”says Olwe.
Comet grins happily. "Farewell then, King Olwe. Until we meet again."

Olwe holds her tight another moment and then, softly, releases her. Turning to her entourage, he says, "I am heartened to know, my Cousin, and my Dearest Kin is protected by such as you are. You are also in my heart, my friends."  He turns to give her one last long look.  "Never farewell, "he says softly.”I vow, I shall never bid my kin farewell. Ever. Until next we behold each other."

"I vow I shall never bid my kin farewell. Ever."

Comet smiles and watches him until he is gone. With one more look he then turns and leaves, no more looking back, lest his feet return him to her side.  Malakyte Thorne nods and smiles. Faulkes Voronwe bows to the King as he departs. Powers Constantine smiles warmly at the King."Take Care King Olwe." Powers bows as he passes in leaving.

Snow lowers her gaze respectfully and gives a small curtsy. Malakyte nods once more as he departs, and Linwe says,"Lótesse i cala of i atta alda síla upon le anta."