Wanderer of the Sea
By Lady Beruthiel
Chapter 1 | Whispers of the Water
He was drowning.
Somewhere, sometime, he had become lost and then he had sunk into the cold and dark depths of the waters and it was swallowing him.
All around him the tide whirled, the currents moved the waves to crash upon him. He couldn't get up, he couldn't reach the surface and the darkness became thicker and cold stung him. He was engulfed and only sank deeper as if a great weight pulled him down.
Tuor, came a deep and ominous voice, Tuor!
Then he remembered. This was his name.
Hlasta! Huor-ion, hlasta!
He was drowing. The cold darkness wrapped itself around him. He couldn't get up to the surface; he couldn't breath, the currents were too strong.
He would die here.
Tuor! The deep voice grew urgent, Hlasta!
And then he awoke…
~*~
He sat up with a gasp as if he had broken to the surface through the storm and had just tasted the air for the first time. He trembled feeling cold although the stone halls of Androth were generally warm on summer night.
But despair claimed him in that moment and he cried out fearfully.
"Tuor?" exclaimed Annael as he quickly walked into the room sensing the mortal boy's anxiety, "What is it, hen-nin?" He asked sitting upon the bed. The nine year old immediately flung himself into his foster father's arms clutching his gray robes tightly. Annael's brow creased with concern as he attempted to console him rocking him gently in his arms. He had never seen the boy in such a state of fear and his senses were alert seeking out what could have disturbed the child.
Sensing nothing he looked down curiously at the small child in his arms and a fierce affection grew in his heart. The idea of anything frightening the small boy, his small boy, much less, caused him to become very defensive.
Is it my right to call him 'mine'? Annael suddenly wondered guiltily as he attempted to discern what could have frightened Tuor, Perhaps not, he conceded silently, but I love him as my own.
Rian's departure nine years ago had greatly upset Annael although Elariel seemed to accept the fact more placidly than he. Since the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, much had changed… for the worse. The tides of the world had grown darker.
Annael had lost his father in that battle and his sister, Elariel, had been grieved for many long days awaiting their return. For those that survived the Fifth Battle the loss was all too near and the wound hard to heal. Even to this day Annael oft relived the memory of that dark day and he oft blamed himself for his father's death wishing silently he had died in his stead, although his sister scolded him for those words.
The coming of Rian into Hithlum and Tuor's fostering had been all at once a blessing and a bane. Tuor himself had lost his father and his mother and Annael had grown fiercely protective of the mortal child whom he shared much in common. Yet, Annael knew that his love for Tuor would not keep him in Arda forever. Early on, he knew that Tuor would one day pass away from the world and the thought saddened him greatly. Elariel, herself, warned him not to grow too attached for she feared that Annael's heart would be broken twice in his lifetime. Once with his father's death. Twice with Tuor's. A heart can only take so many wounds, muindor-nin, before it breaks, her words echoed in his thought but for the moment he would rather ignore them.
"What has happened?" Elariel asked flying into the room her dark hair disheveled and clad in only a night gown and her own blue robes, "I sensed some trouble here," She said more softly. Annael gave her a perplexed look in response as Tuor seemed to calm down his tears drying.
The small boy sniffled his silver eyes looking up at his foster father and his aunt, "I had a bad dream." He said in a small voice.
Hearing this, Elariel kneeled down before him giving a sigh of relief and clutching his small hand in hers.
"A! Siltholion!" She said soothingly, "Meleth-hen, what did you dream that frightened you so?" Annael looked at the small boy expectantly and shivered at his expression.
His face took on a grave mask that Annael had never before seen on a child and for a moment he thought that he beheld Tuor as a man rather than Tuor the buy who had been clutching him tightly a moment ago.
"I was drowning," He whispered afraid that some evil thing would hear. Tears unshed glistened on his eyes, "I was drowning in the water, bitter dark cold water, and I couldn't get out. I couldn't breath…" His voice fell into indiscernible mumbles as he began to cry once more. Annael wrapped his arm around him protectively as Elariel looked at him, calm reflected in her gaze.
"It was only a dream, Siltholion," Annael said softly trying to quell the boy's sudden despair, "It cannot hurt you." He regretted his words at that moment knowing how untrue that statement could be as he recalled Rian's tale to him of Huor's death.
"But there was voice!" Tuor cried out his upset only growing, "A big deep voice in the water! He called to me! He knew my name! He knew me…!" Tuor paled huddling closer to Annael's embrace. "Ada, he knew me…" He barely whispered fearfully.
The dark haired elf exchanged a questioning look with his sister. Elariel turned to the small boy concerned.
"And what did the voice tell you, Siltholion?" She asked softly still holding his hand. He swallowed, struggling to recall the words of his dream. Finally, he replied meekly, some questioning in his own voice.
"To listen."
~*~
"What could it mean?" asked Annael pacing as he looked at his sister curiously. A week had passed since the night Tuor cried out to them and for the last few nights it seemed that the boy slept peacefully without disturbance. It seemed Tuor had forgotten about it wholly, going out into the halls to play games with his elven peers and to practice archery with Ornelion, one of the chief sentries of the Halls, and friend to Annael.
"Calm down, Annael," said Elariel as she ceased threading her embroidery, "A meaning shall eventually present itself." Annael was dissatisfied with the answer and continued thinking a strange foreboding filling him.
"What omen is it that Lorien sends to us?" He asked mostly to himself.
"Ai!" exclaimed Elariel exasperated as she stood up and set her hands on his shoulders to sit him down in one of the nearby chairs, "How shall I quell your anxieties, brother, you are being quite harsh on yourself!" Annael sighed, finally surrendering to her treatises but his eyes were filled with concern. Elariel smiled at him and pulled back some of his dark locks before kissing his forehead.
"Annael, this is a mortal child you are raising, not an elf." Elariel said softly, "You must recall that men and elves do not dream the same way." He raised an eyebrow questioningly to her and she provided an explanation, "While we may chose where we wander in dreams mortals have naught that choice, Annael. His dreams shall be unruly and they shall take him where they wilt. Tuor shall grow up to dream many things and never fully grasp their meaning for the dreams of mortals are strange and broken threads whose tapestry we cannot fully come to see or understand."
"And how would you know this?" He asked with mock irritation. Elariel laughed lightly.
"I have mingled with mortal men, if only for a short while." She told his her eyes bright but they fell into the depth of memory, "Many wounded returned from the borders of Angband after the Fifth Battle, if you recall…"
"Too well," Annael interrupted heavily. Elariel smiled sadly.
"I aided the healers in their tents in helping the atani, with their wounds." She told him, "I learned much in that month of healing, and you too should have known, silly brother! For you fought by their side and shared their tents."
Realization dawned on him. She was right. In the tents Annael had heard some men mutter in their sleep as if they were speaking to phantoms. They had been dreaming, what of, Annael did not know.
She laughed at his expression.
Annael looked up at her.
"You're quite good at knowing things, Elariel." He told her. Elariel smiled softly.
"I know." She replied simply causing Annael to break into a smile, "Now if you don't mind, my husband awaits me at home, can you handle yourself?"
"I shall try." He responded with a smile.
"Good!" She said picking up her embroidery, "Annael," she said before she left, "Do not worry yourself so much, mortal children are not so easy to care for as our own."
"I shall keep that in mind, my sister." Annael told her, "Namarie." She smiled.
"Namarie."
~*~
Annael had gone out seeking Tuor that evening only to find him standing by a wall fountain looking at the falling water curiously.
"What fascinates you so, Siltholion?" Annael asked with a smile. The boy seemed to wake from a reverie and turned to his foster father his eyes thoughtful.
"The water," Tuor said a discovery in his voice, "It speaks!" Annael cocked an eyebrow at the boy and kneeled down near him.
"Indeed," said the dark haired elf approvingly, "Not only does it speak, it sings as well."
"Have you a story, ada?" asked Tuor immediately, "About the water?" Annael sat down by him somewhat perplexed by the boy's sudden fascination in water. He pulled the small boy into his lap and sighed.
"What sort of a story, ion-nin?"
"Where did it come from?" asked Tuor, "And how does it sing?" Annael smiled.
"All things in the world sing, Tuor, all things were created in song."
"How?"
"Long ago," Annael began, "There was nothing in the world, only a void and Eru."
"The God?"
"Yes," Annael agreed approvingly, "Eru, the God, Eru, the One, Eru Iluvatar, Father of All. He has many names but Eru sang all things into being including the Holy Ones, you know that story well enough?"*
Tuor nodded in agreement having heard the tale since he was young.
"And then there is Ulmo, lord of the waters, and he sang the waters and their currents into being."
Ulmo? Something dawned on Annael in that moment.
"Ulmo," said the boy repeating the name thoughtfully, "Did he make all the waters?"
"Yes," replied Annael returning from his thought, "From the smallest streams to the Great Sea." Tuor looked at him curiously, Annael smiled at him, "And I'm sure you would wish to know what the sea is like as well?" He asked.
"I already know," said Tuor in quick reply as he fiddled with a toy horse in his hand, "It's blue and endless and its waves crash in white foam upon the sand." Annael looked at the boy astounded.
"And did Ornelion tell you of it?" He asked before jumping to conclusions. Tuor shook his head.
"No," He told him looking up, "I dreamt it."
~*~
That night he did not sleep well.
Annael tossed and turned in his bed not capable of sleep. He was deeply troubled. He swung his legs over the bed unsure of his discomfort. Annael cast on his gray robe and walked out of his room and silently glided into Tuor's. Annael sighed quietly. The mortal boy slept peacefully in his bed undisturbed. Annael tucked his blanket over him kissing him softly upon his brow before walking out as silently as he walked in.
The raven haired elf walked out of his flet and onto the main Hall of Androth that was now mainly silent except for a few guards on post and some lovers who chose to stay out upon their balconies in the cave gardens. Annael glanced at the stone fountain ahead and sat by it holding his aching head.
"Poor fellow," came a rasped voice in common tongue, "You seem like you have all the worries of the world upon your back." Annael looked up refocusing his vision and he saw before him an old mortal man cowled in a faded dark blue homespun robe. He had taken his seat by Annael, his bent form small compared to that of the elves who roamed about and paid no mind to him. Annael relaxed for a moment his surprise dissolving.
"Almost," replied Annael in the same tongue, "And who are you sir? To be welcomed in the elven halls?"
The mortal laughed and Annael expected a cackle but was surprised to hear a ringing in his tone." His dark eyes met Annael's silver ones.
"My name is unimportant," He said clutching his knarled cane, "I am an elendil, and a friend of many men as well. I have served Turgon of Gondolin and I have once served Huor ere his death. I spoke with Elariel last evening and I have heard of your own plight." Annael looked at the old man amazed.
"Then you have high honor with you sir and my plight is little," said Annael with a sigh, "But how can a mortal man be allowed in Gondolin?" The man smiled enigmatically.
"Sometimes those of worth are guised as the foolish, and I am old and foolish at times, Annael." He told him. Annael nodded in understanding.
"I feel that way as well, at times." He said softly the pain in his head. The old man smiled at him.
"Over Tuor?" asked the man.
"Aye," Annael said quietly, "Over Tuor."
"Sometimes, Annael, Son of Eldarath, you cannot claim everything, and that which you think is now yours is not yours to keep," said the old man placing a hand on his forehead and pain cleared suddenly replaced by a calm, "Be at peace Son of Eladarath, and do not clutch the water too tightly in your hand for it will slip from your fingers!"
Annael's eyes caught one of the flowers opened in a vine before him while all the others were closed and was for a moment fascinated by it. He sighed, "I know your words are true, but…"
The old man had vanished.
~*~
"I spoke to no old man, muindor." Elariel told him honestly the next day.
"Then was I dreaming?" Annael asked mostly to himself. Elariel laughed.
"I think you are over worrying yourself to the point of madness, dear brother!" She said.
"But I saw him, and he was real, Elariel! I felt him there with me, but there was something strange about him now that I think of it…" He trailed off recalling the event of last night with some questioning.
He had never heard the old man approach him, no, his elven hearing had failed him. And another thing: No one seemed to see him but I!
How was that possible?
As he related these things to his sister Elariel's expression grew grave.
"Annael," she said quietly, "I think you have spoken with Ulmo."
He looked up at her trying to connect the pieces in his mind.
"But why would… and how can…?" He could not finish his questions much less find an answer. Elariel smiled softly some foresight in her gaze.
"Do not clutch the water too tightly in your hand for it will slip for your fingers," Elariel said softly, "He was speaking of Tuor." Annael's look fell to amazement as he sat down upon a chair not able to contain himself. They stood together in a moment of silence.
"What does this mean?" He asked softly looking up at her.
"Tuor's fate lies beyond that of yours and at some point you must let go of him, Annael."
~*~
6 years later
In one swift movement Tuor disarmed him and had his sword pointed at Annael.
"Do you yield?" asked the young man smiling with some jest in his eyes.
"Alas!" Annael said, "The student has become the teacher!" Tuor lowered the sword looked at Annael curiously.
"You let me win," Tuor told him. Two of the guards who had been watching laughed.
"I dare not be accused of that!" Annael exclaimed as he wiped the perspiration from his brow, "We had been fighting for three hours in that match!" Tuor smiled and turned around about to reach for his scabbard when Annael sprung from his feet and grabbed his sword. Sensing the lunge Tuor swiftly turned around and blocked it.
"Oh!" The two guards exclaimed.
"What was rule number one?" Annael asked him cocking an eyebrow. He struck two consecutive blows and Tuor parried them as well.
"Never turn your back on your adversary, even if you think he's dead."
"Very good!" Annael exclaimed and grinned, "Now let's see your foot work!" He moved swiftly whirling around Tuor and then disengaging his sword and pointed his own at him.
"Now who's yielding?" Annael smiled his sword pointed at the other. Tuor laughed.
"I never said I yielded, ada." Tuor jested then drew a small curved dagger from underneath his sleeve and pushed up Annael's sword while reaching for his own.
"Clever!" Annael exclaimed.
"I call it tie!" called out one of the guards.
"Faugh!" Annael exclaimed, "Tuor won't settle for that! Will you?"
"Unless you want to let me win again?" Annael laughed.
"Well you'll have to settle for that!" called a lady's voice, "For lunch is ready and I'm waiting!"
"We'll be there in a second Aunt Eliriel!" Tuor called out.
"One second means an eternity!" She shrilled, "Now!" Both men groaned and put down their swords as she walked up to them the two guards watched the exchange merrily.
"Look at you!" Eliriel said fussing over Tuor, "You've gotten dirt all over your clothes and your hair!"
"It was his fault." Tuor smiled pointing at Annael. Annael slapped his hand out of the way.
"Well it was his fault, my clothe got dirty as well!" Annael whined. Eliriel cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Well it was your fault you got him into beating you up, now, isn't it?" Eliriel asked sweetly putting an arm around Tuor, "Come now, meleth-nin, you must be starved." Annael rolled his eyes and Tuor grinned at him.
"Your cooking would make anyone feel starved at the moment," Tuor told her kindly and she laughed at him.
"If you keep all that charm up Tuor Siltholion you'll have every elven maiden in Hithlum looking for you!"
~*~
After they ate that evening Annael found himself summoned by Ornelion, now captain of the guard, to his chamber. Annael walked in quietly looking at the familiar faces in the room. The other guard captains sat around, in no formal manner, and Ornelion greeted him warmly though his face was masked with seriousness.
"Welcome Annael, I am glad you came," Ornelion told his companion. Annael sat by his other peers as Ornelion began briefing them of what was to come.
"I know many of you have heard rumour that our lord and many of our people are minded to leave Androth for the havens of the Sirion in the south," Ornelion began, "I want to inform you all that these rumours are true."
The elven captains looked up at Ornelion their faces also masked in seriousness over the matter. A journey from Androth to the Havens of the Sirion was no easy task. Moving the population from one point to another required covering a vast amount of miles and the guard captains knew very well of dangers that could lie inbetween. Annael immediately disliked the idea.
"Why should we leave so soon our home that has provided us with protection?" He asked in protest. Ornelion sighed.
"Things have grown darker in the east, Annael," Ornelion conceded to him openly, "Our scouts have gone and some have not returned. Those who have report dark tidings. The dark lord is beginning to regroup his forces and rebuild his troops."
"Why?" asked Annael looking at him with concern.
"We do not know," Ornelion told him, "We fear an attack on Hithlum and if this is so Androth lies between Fingolfin's realm and Angband. We are not safe here, not as a buffer at any rate."
"If we leave we open Fingolfin's realm to danger." Said another.
"We are not responsible for Fingolfin's realm, Galdor." Ornelion told him, "We are the grey-elves of Mithrim and what we do is our own choosing."
"It will not be easy moving so many to the havens, Ornelion," Annael said in agreement, "We have not enough guards or troops for protections of so many."
"That is why everyone shall go armed," Ornelion replied, "All the men within Androth know how to wield either sword or bow they will be capable enough."
"When is our lord intending to lead us off?" asked another captain. Ornelion frowned.
"We must be ready and organized by the next hunter's moon." Ornelion told then, "The announcement shall be made tomorrow. Those families who chose to move into Dor-lomin or Hithlum under the Noldor are welcome too, but many shall come along with us toward the havens in Sirion."
"I do not like this idea." Said Annael quietly.
"Then you have a decision to make," said Ornelion simply.
~*~
NEXT CHAPTER: The move to the Sirion and unknown dangers ahead…