Now
Rumor
Old Seveawen straightened and rubbed her back. Her age had never pained her before, but now it suddenly felt like her bones were grinding together. She grimaced, but inside she smiled hopefully.
Her great-great-grandson's wife Waredith saw and touched Seveawen's arm, guiding her away from the rugs they were beating. "Here, Mother," she said, "rest yourself. I think I can get all the dust out of these. Hopefully Duryn will bring something to help if your back is paining you."
The elder woman settled and sighed with relief. After a while, having an interest in gossip like many of the village women, Seveawen asked, "Heard you any good news today?"
Waredith paused to take her breath. "A queer bit. Some folk have heard tell of a silver ship on the Anduin."
Seveawen feigned only mild interest, but inside, her heart skipped a beat. "A silver ship? Nearby?"
Waredith sat down beside her. "Aye. Some folk swear it's real. Others think they're mad in the head. But they say it's sleek, little, as pretty as anything. Some have told it to be Elf-fashion."
Seveawen hummed. "Elves sailing west, perhaps," she said, "bound for their homeland across the sea." She sighed, for she remembered tales from the days when Elves had lived freely throughout Middle-Earth. "What a pity. Fair creatures they are, wonderful magic folk. Not many have stayed behind. They were leaving even when I was a girl."
Waredith regarded her curiously. "You knew about the Elves?"
"I heard stories," Seveawen remembered, "from folk who'd seen them, met them. I remember tales of when Queen Arwen Evenstar wedded King Elessar shortly after the War of the Ring." She was quiet, for Gondor was still deep in mourning for the passing of Aragorn Estel. "I fear she will diminish quickly. She sacrificed her grace for him, her immortality." Her mind drifted away in memory. "The brightest star of the night—ah, Undomíel…"
Waredith stood up. "Well," she said, "that's enough talk of Elves. Ghost grey ships or no, I've work to do. You stay there, Mother. You shouldn't be straining yourself."
Seveawen sat and rested. As she did, she thought about the tales of the silver ship. She had waited, and now the time had come.
Fingering the pendant around her neck, the old woman's eyes drifted away from the village, toward the river and the sea. The promise of the past was true. He was coming back for her.