As a child, Norelda loved the Sea. Unlike so many other elves, she grew up
with it at all times. She was lulled to sleep at night by the sound of its
waves, and in the summer, she swam almost every day. As she grew, her
unusual hair colour set her apart from the other elves in the Havens,
coupled with the fact that since her mother had left, her father, though
noble, handsome and wise, did not have the slightest clue about how to
raise a daughter.
For most of her young life Norelda was free to roam about as she pleased, as long as she stayed within sight of the dock at all times. By the time she was twelve years old, her lovely red hair was a massive tangle almost reaching her by the sun, and her skin was a deep brown. With her pale eyes, the combination was quite striking, but little Norelda was becoming quite wild and rude. Her father, after a shocking display at the dinner table one night, had had enough.
"Young lady, I have had enough" he scolded the sullen-eyed child standing before him in his study.
Norelda stared up at her father with her pale eyes. "But Father, I didn't do anything."
"Yes, you did. You have been rude and nasty, and you said some horrible things to the cook. I won't have it anymore." Cirdan sighed, and sat in his comfortable study chair. His study window, like most in the Havens, faced the Sea.
"What will you do now? Are you going to send me away?" she asked in sudden fright.
"I don't know, Brighteye. Ever since your mother sailed away, I haven't known what to do." Then the Shipwright sat up straight as an idea struck him. "Of course! Celebrian!"
"Mothers sister? Are you going to send me away?" Norelda was almost crying now. She loved her home dearly.
"Oh, little one. It won't be far. I can't take proper care of you here, and Celebrian has three children, one a daughter about your age." Her father paused as he took in her stricken face. "Come now, Norelda, don't cry. You will have other children to play with, and you know Celebrian was your mothers twin. They were so alike it was difficult to tell them apart. Oh, the pranks they used to play!" Cirdan laughed fondly at the memory. Norelda watched him in fascination, her tears drying. "You will have lots of fun in Imladris, Brighteye. Don't forget, most of the elves in Rivindell have never seen the Sea, so they'll want you to tell them all about it. You won't have time to sit down, let alone be homesick." Cirdan comforted.
Dry-eyed now, Norelda nodded. "Well just so long as I can come and visit sometimes."
"Of course. Now, it will take a little while for the messengers to get to Imladris and back, so you shouldn't be going for almost a moon, but perhaps you should start to pack some of your winter things now. Don't forget, Celebrian and Elrond's daughter will want to play with you so take some of your games."
"Yes, father. What is my cousin's name?"
Her father had to think a moment. "Arwen. Yes, that was it. Royal- maiden. Apparently she is very beautiful."
"Thankyou, father. Goodnight." And Norelda left, and went to bed.
The next few weeks were a flurry of packing and preparation. Norelda almost got caught up in it, but then she would glimpse the Sea, or hear the cry of a gull, and would be reminded of what she was leaving behind.
On the last night, after the last maid had left the room, she crawled from her bed, reached underneath it, and pulled out a chest. In the chest was her secret treasure - weapons. There was a shortbow with a quiver of arrows salvaged from the target area, a small, sturdy sword, old but still beautiful, and several long knives with a whetstone. Also in the box was an empty water flask, a large leather bag, and a knife-belt of soft leather, that could hold six knives across the front of the chest and behind the shoulders. Norelda had never used that, though she longed to, for it was designed for someone much larger than she, and hung loosely off her. Instead she took a double bladed knife, the sharpest she had, and stopping only briefly at her dresser to collect a small silver mirror, she headed for the window and climbed out.
Her room was cut out of solid rock, several stories up a cliff-face, but she tucked the mirror into the loose bodice of her sleeping garment, held the knife between her bared teeth, and looking like a little pirate, climbed nimbly down the cliff, landing on soft sand and loose shale. She barely felt the sharp rocks underfoot as she moved like a silent shadow across the Havens, down to the beach.
The stars blazed brightly overhead, and the moon was a barely visible sliver in the sky. We leave tomorrow, thought Norelda as she paused at the top of the steep path that would take her down to the beach. She had thought, foolishly, that she would never leave this place, that she would always race barefoot along the sands, and eat fish and crabs for dinner. She didn't want to go to Imladris, but she knew that her father would not be swayed.
She wanted to keep the Sea always with her.
For most of her young life Norelda was free to roam about as she pleased, as long as she stayed within sight of the dock at all times. By the time she was twelve years old, her lovely red hair was a massive tangle almost reaching her by the sun, and her skin was a deep brown. With her pale eyes, the combination was quite striking, but little Norelda was becoming quite wild and rude. Her father, after a shocking display at the dinner table one night, had had enough.
"Young lady, I have had enough" he scolded the sullen-eyed child standing before him in his study.
Norelda stared up at her father with her pale eyes. "But Father, I didn't do anything."
"Yes, you did. You have been rude and nasty, and you said some horrible things to the cook. I won't have it anymore." Cirdan sighed, and sat in his comfortable study chair. His study window, like most in the Havens, faced the Sea.
"What will you do now? Are you going to send me away?" she asked in sudden fright.
"I don't know, Brighteye. Ever since your mother sailed away, I haven't known what to do." Then the Shipwright sat up straight as an idea struck him. "Of course! Celebrian!"
"Mothers sister? Are you going to send me away?" Norelda was almost crying now. She loved her home dearly.
"Oh, little one. It won't be far. I can't take proper care of you here, and Celebrian has three children, one a daughter about your age." Her father paused as he took in her stricken face. "Come now, Norelda, don't cry. You will have other children to play with, and you know Celebrian was your mothers twin. They were so alike it was difficult to tell them apart. Oh, the pranks they used to play!" Cirdan laughed fondly at the memory. Norelda watched him in fascination, her tears drying. "You will have lots of fun in Imladris, Brighteye. Don't forget, most of the elves in Rivindell have never seen the Sea, so they'll want you to tell them all about it. You won't have time to sit down, let alone be homesick." Cirdan comforted.
Dry-eyed now, Norelda nodded. "Well just so long as I can come and visit sometimes."
"Of course. Now, it will take a little while for the messengers to get to Imladris and back, so you shouldn't be going for almost a moon, but perhaps you should start to pack some of your winter things now. Don't forget, Celebrian and Elrond's daughter will want to play with you so take some of your games."
"Yes, father. What is my cousin's name?"
Her father had to think a moment. "Arwen. Yes, that was it. Royal- maiden. Apparently she is very beautiful."
"Thankyou, father. Goodnight." And Norelda left, and went to bed.
The next few weeks were a flurry of packing and preparation. Norelda almost got caught up in it, but then she would glimpse the Sea, or hear the cry of a gull, and would be reminded of what she was leaving behind.
On the last night, after the last maid had left the room, she crawled from her bed, reached underneath it, and pulled out a chest. In the chest was her secret treasure - weapons. There was a shortbow with a quiver of arrows salvaged from the target area, a small, sturdy sword, old but still beautiful, and several long knives with a whetstone. Also in the box was an empty water flask, a large leather bag, and a knife-belt of soft leather, that could hold six knives across the front of the chest and behind the shoulders. Norelda had never used that, though she longed to, for it was designed for someone much larger than she, and hung loosely off her. Instead she took a double bladed knife, the sharpest she had, and stopping only briefly at her dresser to collect a small silver mirror, she headed for the window and climbed out.
Her room was cut out of solid rock, several stories up a cliff-face, but she tucked the mirror into the loose bodice of her sleeping garment, held the knife between her bared teeth, and looking like a little pirate, climbed nimbly down the cliff, landing on soft sand and loose shale. She barely felt the sharp rocks underfoot as she moved like a silent shadow across the Havens, down to the beach.
The stars blazed brightly overhead, and the moon was a barely visible sliver in the sky. We leave tomorrow, thought Norelda as she paused at the top of the steep path that would take her down to the beach. She had thought, foolishly, that she would never leave this place, that she would always race barefoot along the sands, and eat fish and crabs for dinner. She didn't want to go to Imladris, but she knew that her father would not be swayed.
She wanted to keep the Sea always with her.