Played by:
AelKennyr Rhiano
Belenos Rhiano
Rhun Darkmoon
Eilif places a steadying hand upon the ship's stern rail as, with a creaking of timbers and rope, the elven craft eases into the Gulf of Luin, the deck rising and shifting beneath her feet as the vessel rides the small waves. Behind her the sail, pale in the early morning light, flutters slightly as the Gulf breeze catches it, pushing the ship out from the harbour. Her dark eyes are wide with wonder as she watches the harbour behind them seemingly rise and fall, but she knows it is the ship that is moving, not the land.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZp0vRKsceP0Hl0fLFDntNviMxeYy1_802BUYGpuvRT66Cuj6nP0_U9mK3B4Aufr3UcStcf5TiXtYK9rNIUh42Ltk7C68gs6xiDlBGv8fLMohJqmDrn5OYagbL5O8qhJ-FT5NC-DnaJ9I/s320/..pushing+the+ship+out+from+the+harbour.png) |
..pushing the ship out from the harbour... |
Eilif glances at her two companions, the tall dwarf, Fafnir, and his now constant shadow, the darkly handsome Nasi. They were the only other dwarves on deck of those who had boarded. Most had sought the refuge of below decks, welcoming the familiar closed-in feeling that resembled a little like their beloved mountain tunnels. The thought draws her dark eyes back to the view behind them. This is why she had come here upon the upper rear deck, to see her beloved Blue Mountains one last time. There they were, still hazy in the early morning light, looming behind Mithlond with a presence both eternal and majestic. Home. They had been home her entire life. Would she ever see them again?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCcyil_jiOfvdKwv32w6Xf_lZBg0Spo8r0XVzHPM73Cvx40O__UbpY6ztefWMcTlQ2K_aOL244YxO3X6vwFggFGmPvc-b7pUG0CYEVtZJf_ZJqTymL4OdC2ZA9yI1JtVySwFolQKCV_pQ/s320/Home.png) |
Home. |
Overhead a white bird calls out, but the sound is not the gentle lilting of the sparrows in the forest, or the constant inquiry of the snow Owl who used to roost somewhere not far from the entrance to their mountain home. The shrill sound is one, though, Fafnir has come to know in his time in Mithlond. Seabirds, he names them. But he does not lift his amber eyes to the skies above to see the bird, and so he jumps and bumps into Nasi as there is a thick plopping sound. Inches from their feet, was a thick whitish goo. He gives a soft grunt of displeasure, but quickly lifts his gaze from the offal to the purple haze of mountains. There, there was Gamilfun, the ruins of their home, and he finds as he stares, his vision blurs. Lifting a hand to rub at his eyes, his hand comes away moist. Tears?
Blindly he reaches out for the hand of the one next to him, for Nasi, and his body leans towards the stonemason even as the deck lifts and drops, an up and down motion most unpleasant. His feet do this small dance of balance and awkwardness as he tries to find his ….”sealegs.” Mithlond lies stretched before them, the port like a hungry maw, and the arches like eyes raised in eternal questioning. Would they ever see this elven port again? He takes in a deep breath, salt and the soap both he and Nasi used to wash up this morning mingles with a sour smell that he ignores as best he can. The bones of his father he is leaving behind. The bones of his mother. As he watches them slowly pull away from the port, he wonders where his bones, when the time comes, where they will be left behind.
“One of the merchants, that man with the foul smell about his breath, dared to ask me if I were not some Halfling get of an elf with a dwarf,” he says softly to his companions. He slowly reaches into his pouch at his belt, and draws out a small leather sack. “I find I am less insulted now.” He bounces the sack in his hands a couple of times, and then, he draws back his hand, narrows his eyes, and with a mighty heave, sets the sack whizzing over the railing, arching up for a few moments before dropping with a loud splash into the sea. “Fare thee well, Mithlond,” he says.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uFLp2YrQzZTmTEeyGhhjncWUckYYWPeXzdObEsPrmy7Enh-4a3PuG-05OeYGPTrIv-hAqHnd3nQWWLNHwhHnts2WlCXQwUQbbd3Fxp6BG3F5p4phYyCvm03Z8a5w1NDKHwr581RQ5M8/s320/_Fare+thee+well,+Mithlond._.png) |
"Fare thee well, Mithlond." |
Nasi 's wide nostrils flare as he inhales the now familiar salty tang of the sea air. It was lighter now, as the light fog that had swathed the harbour in the dawn finally lifted and was blown away by the Gulf breeze, revealing a day that promised to be warm and clear. The fog had seemed to suit the sombre mood of the small group who had made their way to the docks one last time, to board the ship and continue their journey to their new home. Little had they said as they'd stowed their remaining belongings below deck, guided by the tall dark elf who now stood at the helm of the ship, but Nasi had seen in their eyes their great sadness at leaving Mithlond. It was as though it was the surrendering of their last unspoken hope that they would ever return to Gamilfun. While on these shores, he supposes that hope had remained. Most who had boarded had chosen to remain below with their belongings, claiming various reasons from not trusting elves to not wanting to get in the way as the ship departed, but, noting their slumped shoulders and downcast looks, Nasi suspects it has much to do with not being able to bare seeing their beloved mountain home slip away below the horizon.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAg_R5EIuq2yBRmfS-SEk02C0wIDoYfd0Om8Va2KCnvAR-apjL1uvCjm170YUcvK-UyR_eKOi2nqPm05QkhHFMI4igYEJJtK_SvAqQaKPGFs06v3XISrf4neF12RCdLhc3yJ29k_vUtM/s320/..Nasi+had+seen+in+their+eyes+their+great+sadness....png) |
..Nasi had seen in their eyes great sadness.. |
Nasi is jostled from his thoughts as Fafnir bumps against him, and he turns his dark eyes to look upon this one who stands beside him. His breath catches a moment as it always does as he regards him. Tall, well-dressed on this day of leave-taking from their homeland in a snowy white shirt and black jerkin, Fafnir shows little effects now of his injuries from the dragon attack. But no, that is not quite true, for they all still suffer from that day. That day is the very reason for this voyage, for leaving their ancient home. That day is the reason for... are those tears that course down his beloved's cheeks? He nods knowingly as he feels Fafnir's hand fumble for his, and curls his fingers around it firmly in reassurance. He watches in silence as Fafnir fumbles for a small bag of coins and listens to the bitterness in his words before Fafnir heaves the bag overboard.
Nasi knows that throwing money away is not something his tall husband-to-be would do lightly, but he knows too, that the elves of Mithlond have mostly been just as unkind as many of the dwarves of their former home. He squeezes his fingers again around Fafnir's and nods. “Aye. Fare they well, Mithlond, and fare thee well, Gamilfun.” He turns to look at Fafnir, his ebony eyes gently regarding the clear golden honey of his beloved's. “They are both behind us now. It is time for a new life.”
Eilif turns at the words of her two companions, shifting her weight on her feet a little clumsily to balance on the moving deck. She pushes the hood she still wears back a little. Will there ever come a time she does not feel the need for it in public, as she does now? Determinedly she resists the urge to finger the scar that runs from brow to cheek. Quietly she regards the two as they stand there. Yes, these two will do well in a new life in a new world. Although she knew neither would probably admit to it, both possessed courage in great measure and they had each other. "It is a new life for us all, even those who have chosen to remain behind. Had we but known it, our lives changed forever when that dragon appeared. It is doubly so a new life for you both."
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXpTlY34p6zBVzANSbSHNo_3WBWNHkM-TUgV8yBk__yC5i4glRLcm6PQKD_zA_mlqtBUjYUcILuGaP5X9TV_ItxliNMee_DzdcWq4u8Z9DPDYoDgZ3nZZqFAIurk_pe-o98Xc4oup3U8/s320/..these+two+will+do+well+in+a+new+life...png) |
...these two will do well in a new life.. |
Fafnir turns at the pressure of Nasi’s squeeze, his eyes still moist, his gaze seeking reassurance in the strong, rugged and sturdy features of the handsome stonemason. He thinks back to the night; the baby, Nizl’s strong and healthy wail and his mother’s whispered lullaby to lull that fretful tot to sleep. There are no babes aboard this ship. Nor old jewellers according to the rumor spread to him by the slender, comely tavern barmaid who helped him find the band that adorns his Nasi’s hand even now. Word had it that the elf who carved the runes into the ring has a new assistant, and Fafnir doubts not the truth of it. Well, and good, the young dwarf thinks. “I doubt not that Aztryd will fare well,” he murmurs softly, “And he will never lack for clean small clothes, for I warrant they shall keep each other very well.”
He squeezes Nasi’s hand again as the wind fills the sail, and he glances over his shoulder at the tall elf at the wheel of the ship. He turns eyes the color of amber to gaze at Eilif, face deep in the shadows of the hood, behind her, slowly growing further and further away from them, the elven port of antiquity. He gives a nod at her words and then, not pausing to think, he reaches out and tugs at the hood, so that it starts to slide back, to expose her face. “It is a new life for us all, Eilif,” He says, and his voice is gentle.
He tilts his head as he regards her. “When will you see the mark you bear is not a scar or a brand forever marring your face, but a beauty mark? Are we,” he pauses and drops his voice further to keep his words between the three of them. “Are we elves, preening, or dwarves, children of the Maker, who place store in the beauty of our crafts?” Even as he asks, though, his eyes slide from her face. “Well, for those who have any craft of which to boast.” He looks up but not into her eyes. Rather he focuses his gaze at a point over her shoulder. “Some of us must content ourselves with wedding and bedding talent.” He gives a roguish smile and leans over to kiss Nasi’s cheek, taking that moment to hide the real meaning of his words in his gaze.
Nasi lifts his free hand to run it nonchalantly over his mustache to hide his smile at Fafnir's audacious gesture, but then, hearing his words and seeing the wisdom in them, he leans over to complete the task. Pushing the hood completely clear of her head, he pats her shoulder with a wide strong hand as he says, “Your scar is a mark of courage, Eilif. Not many could face a balrog and dragon and live. It should be worn proudly, not hidden from view.” His dark eyes gaze solemnly into hers a moment longer before he nods, as though the matter is settled and drops his hand. Lifting his eyes to the slowly receding mountains he continues. “We all carry scars from that life, although not all are seen by the eye.” He squeezes Fafnir's hand again although he does not embarrass him by looking at him and making his remark too personal. “I say a new life will be a good thing.”
Eilif is still staring at Fafnir, caught off-guard by both his gesture and his words as Nasi reaches over and pushes her hood back completely from her face. At first she glances anxiously at the tall elf behind them and beyond. He might see. Others might see... But then, their words slowly filter though her initial shock. "We all carry scars from that life," he had said. Looking now at Fafnir's roguish smile and Nasi's kind eyes, she knows the truth behind those words. Her voice gruff she murmurs, "Aye, well, if you and your future husband can have the courage to dare to show my scar when I wear such a sharp blade at my side, then so can I." With that she fumbles at the lacing of the cape that bears the hood, unlacing them until it is free. She holds it up for a moment, letting the wind catch the fabric and then releases it, watching as it goes fluttering over the side and floats gently to the frothy water in the wake of the boat. She turns from watching it sink and looks at her companions again. "Aye, 'tis a new life for us all." She pauses and looks pointedly at Fafnir. "You may have had no craft to interest a traditional Khazad community, but we are no longer going to be in a traditional Khazad community, are we?"
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8q35KdAD27kTpcW7CoUCqGe334GUEckLFu1XEQO5Euc57FjNY5w46lkX94OQdN6N3MXle-FQv67AsoX6-WHP2T-RlfWEZ93T13LT2k9G0roz8hWVDB_HcjCuXYQyoivBFhtLFFNe1nfE/s320/_We+all+carry+scars+from+that+life,_+he+had+said..png) |
"We all carry scars from that life," he had said. |
Fafnir watches the hood dance upon the breeze, fluttering, twirling, a madcap frenzy of motion before it drops to the water and spinning, in the wake of the ship’s passage. As it sinks, he turns his eyes back to Eilif. “Traditional,” He says, and gives her a brilliant smile, one that does not make it to his eyes, but it will do. It will do. “No, by the Maker’s hairy left ear, we left that with the carcass of that dragon,” he answers her.
He reaches ups and tugs thoughtfully at the left side of his trimmed beard. “We left it with most of my hair, “ he thinks to himself, and his hand slides up to rake through his short hair. Then he turns to Nasi, and says, without preamble, hurriedly. “A king, a ship captain, a dwarven elder, and two terribly handsome dwarves…put them all together, and what do you think you get?”
Nasi 's grin flashes whitely against the backdrop of his dark face and even darker beard. The smile is all the more startling because of how rarely it is seen. Now though he laughs aloud, a deep booming laugh as he watches Eilif's cape flutter away on the wind. The laughter trails away, but the smile remains as he turns to look at Fafir, his eyes still merry but puzzled by the other's question. “You have me lost for answer on that, my sweetheart.”
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnptDc9ybk1_8FejlyQdBtyAsPBQe2uwtW2lG2uiVxs6OFQs2BDFKtW9uxSC0RjnxXaFPWb0qQ2D8p-7qiWKE3ak9Q1yG4GFCGtsLnWcm0wkWnk4Rq0SVy-ZVbdLWK0wUCitAvWDQhOoU/s320/'You+have+me+lost+for+an+answer..'.png) |
"You have me lost for an answer on that.." |
Fafnir looks over at Eilif. Forgotten is the pitch and roll of the deck. Forgotten is the journey down the mountain to Mithlond. Forgotten are the sleepless nights, the combing through throngs of unfriendly elves to find the very rare friend like the barmaid. Forgotten is the “traditional” Khazad community and his father’s deep disappointment. With a wink at Eilif, he turns and grabbing the stonemason, he pulls the other closer and presses his lips, first firmly against the lips of the other, feeling the bristle of whispers, the smoothness of skin, the sweet taste of lips that are his to claim. As the kiss ends, he looks into Nasi’s eyes. “The answer is simple, my Nasi. You get three individuals who can fight over who gets the pleasure to marry two heroic dwarves. Though, mind you, I would wager a king trumps an elder, but we can settle for the captain to do the honors, and the King must settle for throwing the wedding celebration.”
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZNr13wFyyBNQ4WzZ2YYIutso6rbCnZLAMg8OWEVzRqpOaepoNU7pjm_b_UmGK8AgJreOPgCexm_l7DLIfWFU9AsS26LSnVhbqXOmGCqjGLPZjPyWqpaYsbyRUlbU4cyfPeAll6sIw9g/s320/_..+we+can+settle+for+the+captain+to+do+the+honours.._.png) |
"..we can settle for the captain to do the honours.." |
Eilif stares at Fafnir for a moment, open-mouthed in surprise. Well, well, so it doesn't just take a dragon to draw his courage out. The ship bucks and lurches beneath her feet unexpectedly as a wave, larger than those previous, passes under it, and she grabs at the rigging rope in front of her to steady herself, feeling her stomach do a small flip-flop. She takes a deep breath to steady herself, and then, caught up in Fafnir's infectious high spirits she grins across at him. "Well, there will not be many eating at the feast if this keeps up, I'll wager." The grin broadens as she hears the muffled but distinct sound of lost breakfasts below deck.
Nasi 's feet adjust to the unexpected rise and fall of the deck without thought. Long days spent nimbly working on scaffolds and rigging with his stonework stand him in good stead now upon the ship's deck. He gives it no thought for his mind is utterly caught up with Fafnir's words. A wedding celebration? An Elder, a King and ship's Captain? By the Maker's beard! Of course! They can marry on the ship! With a whoop of excitement he grabs Fafnir and crushes him to him, leaning down to kiss him fiercely before lifting him bodily and spinning him around, laughing, as he staggers a little with the ship's movement. Setting him down again, his hands still upon Fafnir’s shoulders to keep him steady on his feet, he stares at him, his dark eyes dancing with joy. “You have no need of a trade, my sweetheart for you have a wonderful mind full of wonderful ideas!” Impulsively Nasi drags him to him and hugs him fiercely again, his strong arms squeezing him tightly to him. “By the Maker's hairy toes, we shall marry onboard. We shall start our new life together!”
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIkIPtL0oSvPwRO25A-f6TdmmaKWFhBbhDcicIQGFJ81K2oYAvJVI6yvwxZwIkhZAZcUJg7tyFdd1mCymJwr1e7UKQww_ub1OarMsdANeUQXfkoQY4KcJq3nr_C_hZWiBl-dooTQJj1g/s320/'By+the+Maker's+hairy+toes....png) |
"By the Maker's hairy toes.. " |