Oathbourne
by Lothithil, A DarkElf Adventure
Chapter Seven: Coming Home
My heart flies ahead to Arvernien. I proved to the captain that there
was no knot his sailors could tie that I could not escape. When I had
freed myself for the fifth time and remained where I had been
stationed, stubborn at the wheel, he magnanimously allowed that I had
his leave to move about the ship again.
I took a place at the bow, giving him the peace of not seeing me. I
knew that he was not pleased that his ship was out of his control. I
would have been just as happy to be set ashore, but my Lord Ulmo had
other plans. He had set the deep currents against our keel, urging the
ship on the bearings of His will.
The sailors stood down, oars shipped and canas furled. They muttered
darkly and cast glances askance at the slim figurehead that posed on
the foredeck. I did not draw their attention to myself, but waited and
watched. Only at night when the men were asleep would I make a sound.
To the night waters and the starwatch I would sing, serenading the
helmsman. To the dome of stars arched from hand to hand and danced upon
the crests of the waves I called a greeting from a lonely heart.
They are the landscape of the this world of water. Steady in their
course; the only unshifting, unmoving things as we roll and roil,
lifted and lowered in our fragile vessel; a cork in a barrel. Only at
night and when the sky is clear, could I assure myself that we were
indeed within Middle earth and not some weird desert beyond the far
side of the Moon.
On such a night the captain came forward, joining me in my watch. I
ceased my singing though he urged me to go on. I did not, feeling
uncomfortable to be near him, guilty of his use by the Power. This
trouble, however, was not on his mind this night.
He respected the silence for a time, then he began to speak. "I have
been a sailor all my life," he said, "I was born at sea and I hope one
day to die within it. I know the waters that were my home the way an
eagle knows the heights of its aerie. The waters have become strange to
me, and I do not know where my home is now. Can you understand why I am
angry?"
It is so dark ahead that he cannot with his mortal eyes see me, though
to me he is revealed clearly by the sparkling lamps of Varda. I speak
softly, "I do understand anger. I understand being away from those whom
I love. I understand losing a home."
He leans against the rail, looking blindly toward the sound of my
voice. "Tell me this tale. Elves are great tellers of stories, I have
heard said. You move in a cloud of sorrow and yet your singing lifts
the heart to heights of joy.
"The lands of my home were once occupied by Elves. Grandfathers speak
of when we first arrived there, leaving our home in the east. They say
that there we found fair buildings but deserted, and ships half-built
upon a quay of stone, fashioned by some unknown skill. This ship's hull
was built by those long-gone folk. My father finished the building of
it and it came then to me."
I let my hands caress the wood of the rail, feeling the faint beating
of the heart of the ship. "She lives. She was indeed made by Elves... a
skillful Elf who loved his work."
"She is my lass now. They left her behind. Tell me where they went, these folk."
I looked ahead to the dancing waves so that I do not have to see his
face. "They either sailed to the shores of Eldarmar or were slain by
Bauglir's servants."
"Eldarmar?" my words still fall outside the limits of his knowing at times.
"Elfhome, that lies beyond the furthermost West, where the Sun and Moon
came from and return to rest each day. There dwell the Valar, they who
made the Eä and struggle still against He who would unmake all their
efforts."
My captain is bold. He says, "I would sail there, and ask these Valar
why they allow the damaging of their work, and why they do not stop the
evil that consumes Men and Elves.
"It would be death for you to find it, mortal. No Man may enter
Valinor, it is said. The intensity of the spirits that dwell there
would cause the tallow of your body to melt like a candle in the sun.
Surrounded by such power that your mind would be unable to contain the
lore; you would end swiftly. I do not know if even I could withstand
that place."
"You have not been there? How then do you know these things?"
"I listened to the lore of Melian the Maiar, and that of Thingol
Singollio who once set foot on Eldarmar and returned." Defeat and
disappointment darken his face. "It is not a goal for a Man to set
himself, going there. Even the Elves are forbidden to go there now. To
them the paths that once lay open are closed; drowned in darkness and
barred by enchantments and fear."
"Why then would they have sailed there, if it is hidden from them?"
"They may not have known the way was closed. Elves of twilight they
were, I think, and they might not have heard of the Oath that was made
that froze the hearts of the Valar against us." I seem to feel for the
first time the chill of the wind as I say this; I shiver. The captain
removes his cloak and drapes it over my shoulders. "Still they might
have gone, even knowing all this."
"Why?"
I pray that the darkness is enough to hide my tears, "When death is
ahead and behind you, and above and below, does it matter where you go?"
He begged the tale from me, so I told it to him as I remembered the
events unfolding; of the Awakening and the Calling, the Migration
across the mountains to the Sea. I told him as it was told to me the
Coming of the Elves to Valinor and the perfection of Eldarmar and the
glory of the Two Trees. Of the withering of those Trees I spoke, and of
the Exile of those folk led by Fëanor.
I told as I heard in Gondolin how Fëanor slew the Grey Elves and stole
their ships, abandoning the greater portion of those who had forsaken
Elfhome to follow him, and of their long, deadly trial that led them to
Middle earth at last, their way lit by the rising of the new Moon and
Sun.
I spoke of the deeds of the sons of Fëanor and the kingdoms of Elves
that grew and were ended, because of those jewels that were pursued
still, the Oathbound in their seeking bringing fulfillment to the Doom
of the Valar.
Of the Fall of Nogothrond and Doriath did I tell, and the fall of
Gondolin, though my tears fell like blood from the wound in my heart to
speak of it.
My audience had grown as I spoke, for through the night and the next
day, and on for many days did this tale lead. Sailors sat at my feet,
harkening and speaking not. I said the words and sang the songs,
weeping and laughing as I remembered the beauty and joy of those
places, mighty before their fall. So my heart was unpacked, years of
silence repaid. My words sometimes were above the learning of my
listeners and with patient questions they came to me, when my telling
faltered.
I became a teacher to them, and they honoured me with gifts such as
they could produce; though I begged them not to they brought me foods
and gear, clothes I could use and small things made by their own hands.
One sailor fashioned a small circlet of seawrack and shell, beaded with
pearl and small bones. I could not refuse these gifts, understanding as
I did the need to repay a debt.
I hoped in my heart that Lord Ulmo would care for these Men and see
them safely home when He had taken me where He desired. They were good
Men who had left behind families and lovers. On the shores somewhere,
perhaps, a maiden or child stood looking out, waiting for the return I
had delayed. I prayed that He would bring them safe to their harbour.
Green seas we left behind and the northern waters were the colour of
steel. A wind whipped at our backs. The captain ordered all canvas
raised to hasten our voyage. We must find a landing soon before our
water ran out.
Smudges on the horizon that I took for clouds resolved into
land-features. I cried out in joy, my longer sight rewarding me. The
captain turned the rudder and found he had control again. Deftly we cut
the waves with a full sail to slip neatly into the placid bay of Belar.
No men moved as we gently came to shore. Ships rocked at anchor about
us and they stared at the graceful crafts, making their own ship look
as a child's raft of fancy. Along the sand and on the docks elves
stood, watching us as we came closer. There were bows in hand and drawn
swords. I stood up on the bow and called out a greeting, "May the stars
shine on the crested wake of your safe passage!"
I leapt ashore as the ship kissed the quay, its momentum seized as if
by frozen water. A face I had seen, more welcome than fresh water or
sand to me. Tall and strong, Eärendil catches me in an embrace that
makes my ribs creak, cradling me as if I were the child he once had
been, in the last days of Gondolin.
In my ear he whispers, "Jacinth was very angry with me, you know, when
I came back without you. She may forgive me now, when she sees you
again. A year of her silence is more that I can endure."
I am staggered, though my feet do not touch the ground, still caught in his arms. "A year?" he nods slowly.
A year? I cannot have been gone so long! But I see the changes in the
season, for this was obviously early spring, and summer I had sailed
when the fateful storm had detoured me. "I must see them soon!" I cry.
Eärendil nods again and setting me on my feet he takes my hand, holding
me there. Lord Cirdan comes, and the Men on the ship watch us on the
dock with wonder and some fear. The captain's face is as if he was
greatly thirsted, and waiting for a cup of rare wine to sate it.
To Cirdan I say, "Here are Men of the southern waters, sent by Lord
Ulmo to bear me hither. They are good men and true, and their captain
is Thalion. I would they found some food and water for a return
voyage, so that they may go back to their lives that they have been
torn from."
Thalion steps from deck to dock, and he says, "Some paths take the
traveler on lands he has not seen, so that when he returns, he is no
longer the traveler he was. If I went back to my home, I would be still
lost, after seeing this place. I beg to remain, and learn more of the
lore you have taught. I will release the ship for any sailor to return
that cannot bear remaining, if I have the leave of your lord to stay."
And the proud sailor kneels at the feet of Cirdan in great humility.
Cirdan looked at him in wonder, and at all the faces eager to stay with
their captain, though many hearts were torn between their lost paths.
Speaking in the Man's speech, Cirdan said, "I see in you that you are
good Men, lovers of the sea beside which I shall ever dwell. Rise,
Thalion Captain. I will allow you to remain here, if you and your men
accept me as your lord, and if you recognize the High King as your
sovereign."
To this they agreed, so Cirdan continued, "You who have families for
whom tears are being shed, do not fear. This same offer I give to them,
if they will take the vow you have made, and come here with you to
dwell. I shall send ships that are swift to bring you to them, and
return here where fair dwelling they shall find. What say you to that,
Men from southern waters?"
"AYE!"
