Pounding, pounding, pounding … Waves crashing on the shore, the sounds of gulls crying overhead, the tang of salt in the air … To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying, The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.

"Hir Nin"

I attempt to refocus my eyes, where am I, who am I? my mind is filled with visions of the sea, swan ships, sails, sails filling with wind, ships swinging on their ropes, straining to go west, go west …

I am moving but how I cannot tell, or perhaps I do not care

"Hir Nin can you hear me?"

The voice is familiar and insistent and I feel I should answer but it takes every ounce of determination I still possess to lift my head, and try to focus my eyes. I realise I am on horseback but not riding. I appear to be cradled in someone's arms which is strange, and the horse is galloping as if it needs to be somewhere very swiftly but I do not know where or why but I know I do not like being carried like an infant and so begin to struggle to free myself from the arm that holds me so securely. I must make some sort of disgusted noise as I find I cannot break free.

"Captain Galathil, Prince Legolas is awake" this time the voice calls out quite loudly as if speaking to someone else and I feel the horse being drawn to a walk and then I am being handed over like a bundle to another pair of arms.

"I wish to ride on my own" I manage.

"No"

I frown ferociously. if I am a prince then I ought to be obeyed.

"I want to."

There is a sigh from somewhere above me, "the last time you tried to ride on your own you fell off."

"I never fall"

"You have fallen twice since we left Ithilien. The second time you strained your shoulder."
This voice seems implacable and before I open my mouth to protest further the horses are set in motion again and we are once again thundering along and my complaints are ignored so I sink back into the abyss of my thoughts confused though they are.

I do not know how long we have been travelling at this speed but obviously the elves whose horses surround me are in a hurry to get somewhere or get me somewhere but where?

"Captain Galathil" saying the word brings my memory back to the present, Galathil is my captain of guard, the one sent by my father to guard and guide me, and the other elves are also from my demesne in Ithilien. But where we are now I do not know, so I ask, "where are we?"

"We are almost there I can see the Deeping Wall."

I try and raise my head but the pain is too intense. It aches so much and my throat is sore as if I have been shouting although I have no memory of doing so.

"Try to relax Lord Legolas. You will soon feel better."

Ah I have been unwell! That explains things, although elves do not normally fall ill. It is too much a puzzle to concern myself with now so I close my eyes and let myself be carried away on the tide as the sounds of the sea fill my senses once again.

When next I surface from that place that seems to increasingly call to me, things seem to be happening about me but not including me directly in what is happening. Now there are new voices and one that I know and treasure. I try and turn my head to find the source of the voice, for in this world where nothing seems solid anymore here is an anchor to which I can cling.

"Gimli?"

Reassurance comes with a simple rumbled response and a pat on the arm.

"Aye Lamb, I am here. All is well. Come Galathil bring him in. Hurry!"

We are moving again, out of the air and into the dark of the caves and I realise I am in Aglarond. I feel the tension I had not realised I was under seem to drain out of me. I am almost limp with relief, for I am with Gimli and he has told me all will be well. I know I can trust my dwarf.

I curl up into a ball and let myself drift again and do not rouse until I find myself being undressed. When I begin to object I hear Gimli telling me to lie still and to let him do what is needful. The tone is such that I choose not to argue. I am compliant and still.

Above my head Gimli and Galathil carry on a conversation as if I am not here. I feel as if while part of my body remains, my spirit is slipping further and further away from Middle Earth.

"By the look of it, this has to be the worst episode yet." I can hear the concern in Gimli's voice

Galathil acknowledges this concern, "Aye Lord Gimli I have never known it as bad as this before. He has become disorientated and apathetic. When it came to him wandering unarmed in the woods I knew that we could no longer deal with things alone despite his determination to keep silent." Obviously something makes Galathil add, "He made us swear we would not send for his Adar or for you."

"Foolish prideful elfling," a hand brushes back my hair from my face which takes away the sting of the words.

There is a most un-elflike snort from Galathil "He takes after his sire in that regard; they are both too stubborn for their own good."

"So how did ye get him to agree to come here?"

"As Saellind pointed out to me, Lord Legolas only required our oath not to send for someone. He did not say anything about us bringing him here. As for asking permission, I did not do so. I suppose you might say I kidnapped him and he will likely be angry when he recovers sufficiently to realise it. I find I care not, for my first oath was to my king to keep his child safe, and that I have done my best to do. You can help him Lord Gimli?"

This last is almost a plea.

"I will do my best lad. Do not look so worried. I am sure now he is here we can pull him round. We have to be able to," he adds almost desperately. "When your messenger arrived this morning telling me you were following directly behind with your prince, I could not have been more surprised, for yon elfling here has said nothing of the return of his illness in his letters. In fact he gave the impression that all was well and so was he, a falsehood that we will be having words over when he is recovered. Ai! I have never seen him so pulled down,. He has ever been thin, but he is scarce more than a bag of bones now."

"He has not been eating, we have tried." Galathil sounds defensive.

"Aye ye do not need to tell me that, lad. I know ye have his best interests at heart and would do aught for him. Well he will eat here ye may be sure, even if I have to feed him every mouthful myself."

I wonder why they are so concerned for me but find I have no energy available to ask the question instead I continue to listen to Galathil telling Gimli of the last few weeks in Ithilien.

It seems that I have become more remote, more elusive as the sea longing, as Galathil calls it, took me in its thrall. Apparently I have taken to wandering, have been unable to concentrate on the governance of the colony, have been found sitting staring off into the distance saying when challenged that I no longer hear the song of the trees but am consumed by the sound of the sea. I do not fully understand what is so frightening about this, for the sea sounds just as pleasing to me at the moment as the trees have done in the past.

Which reminds me that here underground I hear neither the sea nor the trees and for some unfathomable reason that is a comfort to me.

Someone is shaking my arm to gain my attention.

"Lamb, I need you to swallow this draft. Can you open your mouth for me?"

I could but experience has taught me that when someone tries to force liquid down your throat it is going to be foul tasting. I clamp my lips closed and shake my head. There are two almost identical sighs and then Gimli speaks again, as he lifts my head with one large hand.

"When I said can you, I didn't mean you had a choice elfling! Now open your mouth."

I shake my head again, but Gimli catches my chin with his free hand and forces my mouth open. I find my mouth full of some pungent liquid, which I have to swallow unless I wish to choke.

"Now," Gimli helps me lie down again and covers me with a quilt, "get some sleep. I will be here when ye wake. Captain Galathil I suggest ye and your escort do the same. There will be time enough for us all to talk later."

"I would prefer to sit with you,"

"If ye wish it I will not stop ye, but the draught is a powerful one, one that Aragorn made up for such occasions as these, and I used the maximum dose allowable. He is likely to sleep until tomorrow" Gimli looks down at me smiling softly, "rest Lamb …"

I blink at him already feeling the effects of the drug, which is doing its work swiftly. Soon I am fading into sleep but a sleep that is blessedly free of dreams of the sea or anything else.