Legendarium [ Tolkien One-Shots ]

Sea Calling

Tar-Aldarion

Aldarion's gaze turned upwards as he raised his hand to shade his eyes from the blazing sun. The blue and white flag of the House of Elros flapped against the breeze that came off the sea. He smiled. Pride surged through him as he thought about the portraits of Elros Tar-Minyatur in the palace at Armenelos.

Here though, as he stood at the great dock his grandfather Vëantur kept, he couldn't help but compare Armenelos the golden city to one built of wooden blocks next to the majesty of the great ship Númerrámar. Her birch wood flanks and the majestic carven statue of Ossë at the prow demanded respect.

Even at rest in the harbor she seemed fierce to Aldarion. Her golden sails flapped in the wind. In his twenty-five years, Aldarion had yet to find anything that impressed him as much as the sea. Some days, he could almost hear the voices of Ossë and Uinen and Lord Ulmo himself in the tossing waves. Or so he liked to think.

The elves in Eldalondë spoke of the sea song. Some told tales of hearing it in the days before the sun and moon, when all they had was the light of the stars to guide them. There, Ossë had come to them and taught them ship craft. What better teacher for mariners than the temperamental maia of the coasts?

Aldarion turned back to the Númerrámar. At last, after a decade of training, his grandfather had invited him to make the journey to Middle-Earth. If he could not sail West to the home of the Falmari, he would sail East to the home of the Falathrim. At last he'd meet Cirdan, and Gil-Galad, and the names he'd grown up learning of. But more than that, at last he would get to tame the sea.

"Are you excited, Anardil?"

At the sound of his sister's voice, Aldarion tore his gaze from the majestic ship. Ailinel, her light brown hair styled perfectly in many tight curls, stood back from the stone dock away from the salty waves.

"Of course I am. Wouldn't you be?" He grinned, knowing she would deny it. Ailinel shared his father's dislike of the sea. Pointing up at the Númerrámar, he laughed. "Come on. I'll take you up."

Ailinel shook her head. "You're far too fond of that thing." But she moved to join him at the prow. It towered above them, the majesty of Ossë carved from a pale wood.

"Thing!" He scoffed. "This thing is an astonishing work of craftsmanship, Ailinel. I bet even the fabled Swan Ships wouldn't compare. Come on."

He didn't wait to see if she'd join him. His brown boots pounded against the wooden planks as he moved up into the ship. Most of the mariners had taken a few hours to themselves in Rómenna, saying their goodbyes to family and friends. In the quiet, Aldarion breathed in the salt air and listened to the creak of the wood and the rhythmic pulse of the waves breaking against the ship.

"How can you enjoy this?" Ailinel moved to stand beside him. She frowned. "Aren't you scared? The sea is treacherous."

Aldarion shrugged. "It is. But I trust in Lady Uinen, and her ability to placate Ossë. She'll protect us." He looked at the small island, Tol Uinen, in the center of the bay.

His sister didn't respond. Together they stood side by side, looking out at the dark waters of the sea. He closed his eyes. To Aldarion, the flapping of the golden sails in the breeze sounded like soft drums. The shifting ship, creaking in the bay from the toss of the waves, joined the ocean waves in a melody. Gulls cried far above them.

And on the edge of hearing, just echoing in the wind, he swore he could hear a song. Aldarion opened his eyes. He would find the source of the song, no matter how many voyages it took.