Disclaimer: I do not own Middle Earth. Tolkien does. However i do own Gil. So hands off.
Gil was lost. He had not meant to wander this far from home, but he had been curious. His mother had said that strangers were moving through their lands, all robed and hooded.
That morning she had cautioned him, as she always did, not to stray beyond the borders of their land. But he almost always went further. She had said they were heading for the sea. So that was where he went.
Initially the boy had been a bit nervous. He had only wandered as far as the old port a handful of times. His curiosity, however, drew him ever on.
It was early evening when he reached it, the sun a slowly sinking ball of flame.
As he rounded the cliffside into the bay he stopped, surprised. There was a ship there. He had never seen a ship there before. This was not just any ship however, it was made out of some pale wood and the sails were of silk. The dying sunlight was reflected off it giving it an almost ethereal golden glow. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
There were people there, too. He wandered a little closer, as close as he could go without being seen. The people themselves were truly beautiful. Their hair was long and their clothes were very fine. Their laughter was like silvery rain on the air. He thought, somehow, that the ship must belong to them.
As the sun began to sink on the horizon, the mood of the company changed, becoming more solemn. They turned to look back, but only for a moment. Then, slowly, they began to board the ship. For a while, they stayed upon the deck, seemingly waiting for something.
Then the sweet sound of a horn echoed round the bay. The people turned, as one, to face the horizon. The sails were unfurled and the ship, with all the grace of a swan, began to move.
He watched it sail majestically out into the bay, and the voices of the passengers suddenly rose in song.
As the ship reached the entrance of the bay, the last dying rays of sunlight lit it up with shimmering gold.
The boy shut his eyes against the brightness. When he opened them again, the ship was gone. Though the song still lingered on the air.
He sat where he was for a while, still in awe and wonder at what he had seen. Somehow he knew this was a privileged sight. He had seen something truly special. He stayed there until he felt himself get cold. He realised it was getting dark.
With a start, he jumped up. His mother would be worried.
Without another thought, he ran from the place, his footsteps slowly receding into the gathering gloom. He knew he would always remember what he had seen.
The old storyteller turns towards the embers of the dying fire, lost in thought. His young audience is still lost in the tale.
Suddenly a small voice pipes up; "But Master Gilthas sir, where did they go?" He turns, slightly, and smiles.
"Into the west, little one", he replies. "Into the west...."