The proud figure stood on the cliff, looking our over the ocean, a hard
breeze trying to blow him back but his strong legs kept him still. It had
been a long while since he last looked out over the ocean, it's dark blue,
frothing white, grinding rocks, whispering sand.
Ereinion sighed heavily. The past few days had been stressful, so much going on and so little time to digest it all. Annatar had come but a few days ago and his presence was a great stress upon the King. His kind face and gentle words were a mask for something, but the King could not discern what yet.
Looking down along the beeches, his eye caught a form being dragged and pushed by the waves. He did a double take but quickly realized that it was a elf and sprinted down a path leading to the sandy shores. He reached the form easily with his long strides and pulled it from the waves reaches. Ereinion realized that it was a woman and a rather bare one at that same instant and averted his eyes as he picked her up and began his journey back to his home, praying that he was not to late to stop her quivering and save her life.
"She should survive, my King." Ereinion watched the healer leave and his vice regent enter.
"I heard there was an elf washed up upon the beach…?" He turned to see the question in Elrond's eyes.
"No ships were seen near by, she likely brings no news from the Blessed realm." Elrond cast his gaze to the floor ere he looked up again. It pained Ereinion to see the elf he had thought of as his own son pained by wishes of his parents still, but he didn't treat him as though he was a child anymore, so he pushed it from his mind.
Elrond looked up and to the woman in the bed not far from where they stood. Her skin was a milky tone and her hair was a deep brown, perhaps linking her to the Noldor as well. Gil-galad tore himself from her face when Elrond spoke once more. "Círdan has sent word to you, I believe it concerns Annatar." His eyes snapped back to Elrond and he slowly went from the room, taking one last look at the woman.
Ereinion made a soft sound as he read through Círdan's letter, seated in front of the window that looked out over the ocean in his study. The waning moon was beginning to show and the darkness creep closer but it mattered little to the King, he was tired and deemed he would read nothing more that night. The letter had said little more than that he would be visiting soon and that he wished to discuss the Lord of gifts. Gil-galad rose from his seat slowly, with a grunt and laid the letter on his desk. He walked from his study and found himself steered towards the unknown elf's room. Leaning against the door frame, he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest even though she seemed as a ghost in the moons light.
He grew worried at the whimpering of her voice, cries of a name he didn't recognize.
"Malthulus!" Came her last struggled cry ere her body relaxed and gave into a deep sleep. Gil-galad went to the side of her bed and placed the back of his hand upon her cheek to feel the heat subsiding. Realizing he had began to lightly stroke her face, Gil-galad pulled his hand from her and left the room with as much speed as he could muster.
Malthulus-Golden tree
Grumbles, I know, it's a really short starter but it's just because I want to see the reaction to the fic before I get carried off…and I'm reeeeeally tired…so, review if you like….*yawns*
Ereinion sighed heavily. The past few days had been stressful, so much going on and so little time to digest it all. Annatar had come but a few days ago and his presence was a great stress upon the King. His kind face and gentle words were a mask for something, but the King could not discern what yet.
Looking down along the beeches, his eye caught a form being dragged and pushed by the waves. He did a double take but quickly realized that it was a elf and sprinted down a path leading to the sandy shores. He reached the form easily with his long strides and pulled it from the waves reaches. Ereinion realized that it was a woman and a rather bare one at that same instant and averted his eyes as he picked her up and began his journey back to his home, praying that he was not to late to stop her quivering and save her life.
"She should survive, my King." Ereinion watched the healer leave and his vice regent enter.
"I heard there was an elf washed up upon the beach…?" He turned to see the question in Elrond's eyes.
"No ships were seen near by, she likely brings no news from the Blessed realm." Elrond cast his gaze to the floor ere he looked up again. It pained Ereinion to see the elf he had thought of as his own son pained by wishes of his parents still, but he didn't treat him as though he was a child anymore, so he pushed it from his mind.
Elrond looked up and to the woman in the bed not far from where they stood. Her skin was a milky tone and her hair was a deep brown, perhaps linking her to the Noldor as well. Gil-galad tore himself from her face when Elrond spoke once more. "Círdan has sent word to you, I believe it concerns Annatar." His eyes snapped back to Elrond and he slowly went from the room, taking one last look at the woman.
Ereinion made a soft sound as he read through Círdan's letter, seated in front of the window that looked out over the ocean in his study. The waning moon was beginning to show and the darkness creep closer but it mattered little to the King, he was tired and deemed he would read nothing more that night. The letter had said little more than that he would be visiting soon and that he wished to discuss the Lord of gifts. Gil-galad rose from his seat slowly, with a grunt and laid the letter on his desk. He walked from his study and found himself steered towards the unknown elf's room. Leaning against the door frame, he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest even though she seemed as a ghost in the moons light.
He grew worried at the whimpering of her voice, cries of a name he didn't recognize.
"Malthulus!" Came her last struggled cry ere her body relaxed and gave into a deep sleep. Gil-galad went to the side of her bed and placed the back of his hand upon her cheek to feel the heat subsiding. Realizing he had began to lightly stroke her face, Gil-galad pulled his hand from her and left the room with as much speed as he could muster.
Malthulus-Golden tree
Grumbles, I know, it's a really short starter but it's just because I want to see the reaction to the fic before I get carried off…and I'm reeeeeally tired…so, review if you like….*yawns*