Wanderer

48 - Into the West

Earendil

"You can't miss it," the elf had said, though I was sure it wasn't beyond him in his slightly tipsy state. "Your boat will follow the current. Once you've cast off, there's no turning back." The elf had then laughed as if the thought tickled him immensely.

I hoped, sincerely, that he was right. Between the darkening, clouded sky aand the rain beginning to fall, it would be a miserable night to sail, let alone navigate. My urgency didn't let me rest. I knew as well as my name the fact that I had to leave tonight.

I left the valley with only a sack of food and an elven clothing. I was past worrying about gaining entrance to the Valinor without the Silmaril. If it was meant to happen, then it would.

I travelled the forest, which was silent except for the drip-drip of rain through the leafy foliage. I had time to think.

I was sorry, breifly, that Alaytar wasn't with me. If he had known, and if I hadn't slipped out of the villa, then he would have come, driven by his strict sense of duty. But he'd already done what needed to be done. He'd found Kassandra, reconciled himself to her. I hadn't finished it. Not yet.

I left the cover of trees and immediately was glad that I had dressed warmly. The rain was accompanied by a strong wind that stirred the sand under my feet. I pulled my hood over my face, and squinted into the night. I could just see the Vingilote moored several hundred feet offshore. I made immedately for the rowboat.

Suddenly, I saw something sprawled ahead of me. I peered at it, narrowing my eyes in the dim light, and the wet, nad just caught a ripple of gold, blowing in the wind.

With a jolt, I realized that I was looking at a body laying on the sand.

"Oh Eru, help me." I sprinted across the sand, taking my chances that it wasn't just someone taking a nap. 

I dropped to my knees beside the prone figure, brushing aside the blonde long hair. Definitely a female.

"Hey, there." I carefully rolled the girl over, shielding against the wind. "Are you...oh Valar. Valar."

It was Elwing.

Immediately, I had my cloak off and had her wrapped in it. "Elwing, it's me. Can you hear me?"

She wasn't dead, wonder of wonders. How long would she have been out there? She had a gentle pulse, and her breathing, though faint, was regular. I rubbed her hands, and pulled her hair from her face, and tried to revive her.

Finally, Elwing gave a little sigh and opened her eyes. "Earendil...I was dreaming..."

I honestly didn't know what to think. Or to say. I was in shock. I nodded once, and smiled so large that Elwing smiled back at me. Tears shone bright in her eyes. I held her close, so close that I could feel the rise and fall of her chest.

Elwing, Eru has been good to me.

The rain fell more heavily. I didn't care. "Elwing. I'm so sorry I let you go."

Elwing smiled and shivered and cried all at the same time. "I don't care...I don't remember you leaving me. Was I dead? My dreams were dark."

"I don't know."  It was very possible. "You were just gone, swept overboard, and I never turned back."

"I don't care, Earendil, I don't care, I'm just so happy to see you one more time..."

We were both a mess, sobbing without inhibitation. I helped Elwing to her feet, and we both struggled across the sand, Elwing leaning on me all the way. The wind pulled and pushed at us, until we reached the rowboat and Elwing huddled at the bottom. The wind that had been so cruel on the sand was now at our back, and helped me as I strained at the oars.

"Tell me everything," I told Elwing.

"What is there to tell?" she asked. "I don't remember anything. I dreamed, I think, about a swan flying in front of the moon, but I don't remember being there. Then I was cold, and I woke up. You were there."

I saw a white shape hidden in her hair. As I bent down to pick it up, the shape was soft in my hands. A feather. 

"I don't think it was a dream," I said. 

Elwing fingered the feather thoughtfully.

"How's that possible?"

"I don't know."  I smiled at her. "I can't believe you were out for three days."

I could almost see the Vingilote's ladder.

"And you were  doing for three days...?"

"The usual. Moping over you."

"No, I don't think you were." Elwing stared up at me. "You're different. Your eyes are brighter. You're happier. Don't think I haven't noticed. I'm impressed, Earendil, very impressed."

"And you're not mad at me for leaving you."

"We'll see," she said as we pulled up alongside the Vingilote.

"Where's Alaytar?" she asked halfway up the ladder.

"He's..." I twisted around in the rowboat, looked back to the shore. I could just barely make out the tall figure between the waves and the woods. I could just hear the sound of my name, tinged with the inflection and accent I knew so well.

"He's better off now." I said to Elwing, but mostly to myself.

Once on the Vingilote, I was happy to see everything was as I left it. I quickly ushered Elwing into our cabin. "Get something dry on." I said. "We're sailing for the Valinor now."

"In the rain?"

"Evidently there's a current." I shrugged.

"Wait, Earendil."

"What?" I turned.

"Did the Silmaril ever turn up?"

"No." I held her gaze. "But I don't think it matters anymore."

"I wish I had your conviction."

"We'll see what happens in the end." 

In a few minutes, the Vingilote was unmoored. With a gentle tug, it started forwards. There is a current, thank Eru.

I stood at the prow, wrapping my cloak around me. For some reason, I could hear a chord progression that the elves had played for me in one of their songs.

Tonight reminded me of the night I had spent sailing home from the Capitol. It was balmy and beautiful, with a perfect navy blue sky, with glimpses of ice stars when the clouds parted. There were many, many more than usual, I noted. I didn't know hardly any of them.

I am far from home.

I thought back to the familiar routes on the coast, the harsh salt of the coastal air, and compared myself to the sailor who had loved them. 

I was different. 

I heard Elwing's soft footsteps under the wind and the waves. She paused beside me, and put her arm around my shoulder.

"Earendil, I'm sorry."

"What?" I looked right at her. She was distraught. Her face looked very young in the light of the lanterns. I forgot she was only nineteen. "Dearest, you're not the one that abandoned me."

"No, I mean the way I acted before. I've never been good enough for you. I live with you, love you, and act like I'm entitled to you and I am physically incapable of giving you up. Earendil, you're stronger. You were able to leave me for a greater good, whereas I couldn't. My behavior at home was despicable. If I ever act so spineless again, then I beg for you to tell me off!"

"No, no, no." I hugged her. "No, Elwing, it's not like that. I've been the one who's never been there."

I stroked her hair. Even tousled with salt and wind and sand, her hair was fine and beautiful. I lowered my head. 

Her lips were cracked and salty, but it was still the best kiss I could remember in a long time. I felt Elwing relax and sigh against me.

For the first time, I didn't sail alone at the tiller.