Chapter Ten: Mad Winds

The sun shone warmly overhead, making the surface of the sea glitter brilliantly. The ship cut across the surface almost effortlessly, pushed ever onwards by the power of the wind.

Ereinion smiled as the sea wind flowed past him, blowing his hair out behind him. The air was purifying, invigorating – a wonderful change from the stuffy confines of his chambers and study in Tirion. Lindon had always been open to the breezes that blew in from the ocean, and he was used to always being surrounded by the tangy scent of the sea. There was always that sense of freedom of movement – almost as if the palace did not have walls at all.

However, in Tirion, things were much different. The Halls of Fingolfin were made of cold stone, and decorated in a very imposing manner that Ereinion, unaccustomed as he was to such a form of architecture, always felt walled in, as if he was trapped in a tomb.

Perhaps that is why I was so eager to go on this venture, he mused, squinting his eyes slightly to protect them from the glare of Anar on the water. He had been feeling trapped, all those years living in Fingolfin's halls, and he wanted the freedom he used to have, living on the Isle of Balar, and then as a High King ruling in Lindon.

And now, he thought, I am free, and returning to a land that I have not seen for so long. He wondered, every now and then, whether the Palace of Lindon still stood, whether the western gardens – his private gardens, the ones that faced the sea – still bloomed with flowers in spring and summer. He wondered whether the fountains still made their tinkling music in the courtyards, whether the trees still whispered their secrets to the winds, whether the sea beat upon the piers and quays of stone.

He shook his head to clear them of the memory. Their mission was taking them to another place entirely, one that was far, far away from Lindon. If they had the time, perhaps he could make a journey and see what had happened, but not right now. The recovery of Maglor and of Pallando's daughter was their chief objective, and so they would have to be accomplished first.

He heard the patter of feet behind him, followed by an awful retching sound. Turning, he saw Ecthelion leaning over the starboard rail of the ship, his head bowed, and his hair obscuring his face from view.

Glorfindel's voice echoed down to them from where he stood on the quarterdeck with Telpeär. "Seasick, my friend?" There was no mistaking the teasing note in his voice.

"Keep your mouth shut Glorfindel," Ecthelion growled as he straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Ereinion noted, with an amused smile on his face, that the silver-haired Elda's face seemed a rather sickly shade of green.

Glorfindel did not heed his words. "That is quite surprising. I thought that, since you were half-Teleri, you would not get seasick."

Ecthelion glared at Glorfindel, bracing himself with his arms on the railing. "Emphasis on half. I have never been to sea before."

"Really?" Ereinion asked, joining in the teasing. "But I thought that to get to Arda, one had to take a ship?"

Ecthelion's glare was bleeding with venom. "I never took a ship to Arda because I had to cross the Helcaraxë. And I thought that you knew your history better than that, Ereinion."

"Oh, I certainly know my history. It is just that it is quite fun to see you getting riled up the way you are right now, Ecthelion."

Maedhros joined in this time, speaking up from where he stood on the port side railing. "I believe that Ereinion has a very good point." He grinned at Ecthelion. "You are simply too easy to tease, my friend."

Ecthelion opened his mouth to argue, but then, his eyes widened, and he turned away, retching again.

"That is precisely my point," Glorfindel chimed, a smile stretching across his face from ear-to-ear. "See? He can hardly say a word without leaning over the railing to empty the contents of his stomach."

A boot went flying across the ship, obviously aimed at Glorfindel's head. Apparently, the golden-haired Elda saw it coming, and ducked, laughing all the while, and the boot landed on the quarterdeck with a muffled thump.

"Children," Telpeär called, raising his voice above the laughter and curses that were being thrown back and forth. "Please, act more maturely. And Ecthelion, there will be no throwing of boots on this vessel."

Dead silence settled on the ship. Three pairs of gray eyes and one of blue gazed at the young Teleri blankly.

Telpeär blinked, looking at them innocently. "Did I say something wrong?"

Ithil was only beginning to show signs of waning as the ship moved onwards across the face of the sea. A million glimmering stars dotted the sky, and Telpeär could not help but raise his voice in a greeting to the celestial lights, set there by Varda to illuminate the world when the Elves first awoke.

But aside from that, the stars were his guides, pointing him in the right direction on a sea that had no landmarks or other distinguishing features to show him where he was and which way he was to go. Like most of the Teleri, he had been taught how to read the positions of the stars and the sun, so that he would always know exactly where he was, with or without a map. He had also been taught how to read the currents and the wind, so that he would be able to take advantage of either or both to take him to his destination.

Tomorrow morning, we will be able to furl the sails and ride the current south, he thought, a smile gracing his lips. If all went well, they would be docking at the port of Yaminah – their chief destination – by noon tomorrow at the earliest.

All in all, they were making very good time.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned, and saw Ereinion standing just behind him, smiling in a most comforting manner.

"I believe it is my turn at the helm?" Ereinion asked lightly, quirking an eyebrow just so.

Telpeär smiled, and nodded, moving away from the ship's wheel to allow Ereinion to step into place. It had been agreed early on in the journey that the two of them would take turns manning the helm. Although Telpeär was the true mariner amongst them, Ereinion had some experience at manning ships, since he had spent his childhood on the Isle of Balar, fostered by Telpeär's own father, Círdan.

He remembered the talk that they had the previous night, when it was just the two of them standing at the helm:

"Your father was very kind to me. He watched out for me when I was young." Ereinion chuckled. "Sometimes, I think that he was more of a father to me than Fingon ever was."

Telpeär smiled, the night-breath of the sea comforting and filled with memory. "He often told stories about you, how you were so troublesome when you were a child. He had a hard time trying to rein you in, because you had such an adventuresome spirit."

"Adventuresome, or simply troublesome?" Ereinion chuckled again, and shook his head. "I suppose that I was both. After a time under his tutelage he made me realize that there were other things that I had to attend to – namely living up to my father's legacy as High King."

"He said you did not want it, that at first you resisted the idea of taking that title." Telpeär's made sure his voice was soft, not presumptuous in any way. He knew that it was a rather sensitive topic, but he wanted to know the answer, and so he had asked in his own fashion.

Ereinion fell silent, and the young Teleri felt a stab of fear. Had he overstepped his bounds? He knew that, in spite of the fact that his companions could act a little less maturely than even he could, they were not children. They were Elf-lords, and some of the greatest in their time. Ecthelion and Glorfindel were renowned as heroes of Gondolin; Ereinion had once been known as Gil-galad, and had been the longest ruling High King of the Noldor in Middle-Earth. Maedhros was a figure famous in the history of the Quendi, and none had ever suspected that he would ever be allowed to step out of the Halls of Mandos.

"Your father spoke truly," Ereinion replied at last, and Telpeär pushed away his thoughts for the meantime in order to pay closer attention to the former High King's words. "If I had been raised knowing that I would be High King after my father, had I been raised under my father's tutelage, perhaps then I would have been more resigned in my acceptance of that office. But I was not. Fate cast me into Círdan's care, and to the Isle of Balar. I lived there knowing what it was like to be free, to live without the trappings of royalty. I learned to love my freedom, the freedom that comes from not having to follow strict protocol, and not having to worry that I will offend someone by choosing the wrong words to express my thoughts.

"Even when I finally assumed my position as High King of the Noldor in place of Turgon, I still had this thirst for adventure. It got me into trouble quite often, and has ruined more than a few relationships."

Telpeär blinked. This was new to him. He had never known that Ereinion had been involved with someone before. But he did not push the topic, hoping that somehow, Ereinion would understand his silence, and speak more of it.

But instead of going on, Ereinion turned to him, and asked, "Telpeär, did you leave a lover behind you in Alqualondë?"

"No," Telpeär blurted, caught off-guard by the question. He cleared his throat, and replied again: "No, I did not leave a lover behind in Alqualondë."

Ereinion nodded, sighing. "Ah, I see. I suppose that made the decision to go on this quest much easier to make."

Unable to contain his curiosity, Telpeär said, "Now that we speak freely of lovers, Ereinion, did-"

"I leave a lover behind?" Ereinion smiled, and shook his head. "No, I did not – not in Valinor. But once, when I left the Isle of Balar to go back to the mainland and take up my rule as High King, I did. [1]"

His voice became nostalgic, wistful. "Her name was Eleneär – Star of the Sea, and a fitting name for her. She was of the Teleri, and close kin of Olwë. [2]"

Telpeär nodded. He knew of the Lady Eleneär. "Yes, I know of her. I have seen her when she comes to visit my mother every now and then." He blinked. "I did not ever think that she was your lover. Father certainly made no mention of it to be before, and the Lady did not speak of it."

Ereinion shook his head. "It was not something that I shared with your father during those days." He smiled slightly then. "Besides, Eleneär has enough wisdom to know that one does not go around declaring oneself to be the former lover of a High King. That would create too much unwanted attention for her."

Telpeär bowed his head, feeling rather silly. Of course, he should have known that it was not a wise thing to brag about former lovers, especially if that former lover was Gil-galad.

But another question lingered in his mind. "But why did you not wed her? I could not think of anyone more suitable to be High Queen."

"She did not have the wish for it, and, truth be told, she did not have the disposition," Ereinion replied. "I loved her too much to make her bear the burden of being High Queen. I accepted the High Kingship because it was my duty, and because there was no one else with enough right to take it. I had been prepared for it, and knew what I had to face."

His face became more serious. "But moreover, I also knew that there was a very large possibility that I would die, whether by the hand of an enemy on the battlefield or by the sinister dagger of an assassin. And, knowing that, how could I wed her when there was a very great possibility that I would leave her widowed? No, I did not want to hurt her in that manner."

"You are lost in thoughts again, Telpeär."

Telpeär looked up, and saw Ereinion grinning at him. He smiled back at the former High King. "I was just thinking about something. It is not too important."

Ereinion nodded, and then glanced towards the port side of the ship. "Ah, do you see that?"

Telpeär looked towards where Ereinion's gaze was fixed, and noted that Maedhros had once again taken his usual place at the railing, staring into the distance as if there were things there that only he could perceive. It had been that way since the beginning of the voyage.

Ereinion raised his voice. "Moping again, Maedhros?" He grinned. "If you keep on doing that you will end up wrinkled like an old Man."

The red-haired Elf turned, and looked at Ereinion, a small smile forming on his face, though he did not speak.

Telpeär, seeing that it was Ereinion's intention to bring Maedhros' spirits up for a change, continued, "Ereinion is right. Why should you be so sad, and think of gloomy thoughts, when we sail through a beautiful night, upon an ocean as calm as a millpond? Pay no heed to dark thoughts tonight; pay heed only to the silver of the moon upon the water, the haunting melody of the sea-"

A horrible retching split the air, and all three of them turned to look at the starboard side, where Ecthelion was, once again, bent over the railing, whatever he had eaten for dinner finding its way down to the waters below.

Telpeär laughed, as did Ereinion, at the irony of what had just happened. Even Maedhros was laughing, and Telpeär felt relieved that he had done so. It is not wise to dwell on things that are over and done, he thought.

And then, much to his surprise, the wind that had been steadily pushing them eastward suddenly disappeared, causing the sails overhead to slacken and droop. The ship coasted for a moment from the wind's momentum, and then stopped.

Ereinion inclined his head to look at the sails, his expression a mixture of puzzlement and worry. "What has happened to the wind?"

Telpeär was confused. This was not supposed to happen, he thought. The weather was good, and everything had been as it should be. What was wrong now?

And then, too late, he realized what was wrong – and it made him shudder. He looked to the south, and felt his blood run cold. "No…"

A large wall of dark thunderclouds was heading towards them, lightning flashing in the shadowy miasma of the storm. Only now did he hear the distant rumble of the thunder, and feel the dry, almost coarse feel of the air.

Apparently, the others had seen it too, for they were already standing at attention. Even Ecthelion's seasickness deserted him the moment his eyes fell upon the approaching storm.

"Why have we stopped?" Glorfindel's voice emerged from the door that led below deck. "What has happened to the wind?" When he saw them standing stock-still, and staring to the south, he followed their gaze, and immediately understood why they were so quiet. He swallowed, and clenched his fists. "Telpeär, is there any way that we can avoid the storm?"

Telpeär had been thinking about it the moment he had realized that the storm was going to strike them. He had thought of all possible ways and means in which to avoid it, but none came to mind. He shook his head. "There is nothing we can do," he muttered. "There are no currents that may bear us forward or away, and the wind has died down to nothing because of the approaching storm. We can do nothing except try to weather it."

"Are you sure that this craft will survive it?" It was Ereinion this time.

Telpeär clenched his jaw. "I do not know, but we have to try." He turned to Ereinion. "We have to furl the sails lest the winds tear them to shreds. And then you or I will have to remain here on the deck to steer, so that we at least maintain a steady course somehow."

Ereinion gave him a half-smile, and patted him on the shoulder. "We will stay together, you and I. We must fight this storm somehow."

Telpeär smiled, and nodded. He turned to the others, and said; "I think it would be best if all of you went below deck." His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned his gaze to the approaching clouds. "It will be a long and difficult night ahead."

Sinag-Tala could not tell whether the screams she was hearing were the howls of the winds, or that of the stragglers as they battled against the winds to reach the safety of the forest. It was too dangerous now, to stay in their huts and homes on the reef and coast. It was too open, too exposed to the elements of the storm. At the very least, the trees of the forest would shield them somewhat from the ferocity of the rain and wind.

She turned around, waving her arm. "Hurry!" she yelled over the shrieks of the wind, the rain slicing against her skin like cold knife blades, and she was surprised that she was not bleeding yet. "Take shelter in the forest!"

The people hurried to obey her command, and slowly, they filtered into the protective embrace of the trees, and she alone was left standing in the rain and wind. She peered at the horizon, watching as the wind caused high waves to beat upon the reef and the shoreline.

She shook her head grimly, and entered the forest.

[1]= This part of Ereinion's history - his love life, in essence - is non-canonical, and was entirely made up on my part. It should not, in any way, be taken as canon.

[2]= The identity and existence of the Lady Eleneär, and her relation to Olwë, is also non-canonical, and was made up on my part. It should not, in any way, be taken as canon.