Chapter Three
For two days the elves drifted in and out of unconsciousness. The little water they had, didn't last very long and when he was awake, Elladan knew things were getting desperate. On the third day, when the sun was half-way through the blue, cloudless sky, Elladan woke to hear gulls calling, but he could not move. His body was weighed down onto the deck by the body of his friend who was only just clinging to life.
Desperate for help, he lifted his voice and started to sing, in hoping the gulls, soaring above, would hear him and carry his voice to the help they needed. Long into the night he sang, and even the next morning, although his voice was naught but a whisper, he sang still as the boat they were in slid to a stop upon the pebble beach and drew the attention of a maiden collection shells on the shore.
Alyanîn, Daughter of Yulionîn, Lord of Dol Amroth swept the long strands of chocolate brown hair away from her pale grey eyes and approached the boat cautiously. The shells she had been collecting in her basket, she handed quickly to her maid-servant and sent her to give word of the strange arrival to her brother, Turnîn who was back up at the light house consulting with their father about the plans for her future.
Alone, she crept slowly towards the boat. She was unarmed and knew she would be scolded by her brother for not fleeing, or waiting his arrival, but curiosity was getting the better of her. Hesitantly, she peered over the edge and studied what she saw with a slight look of wonder on her face.
The elf below her woke and gasped as he opened his eyes to see the maiden looking down on him. He tried to speak, but either he was transfixed by her beauty or his singing had finally drained his throat of any moisture, maybe both.
The maid hushed him with the cool touch of her fingers on his lips, "Be still Raza-vanessë, I am Alyanîn and will help you. Be still my brother is coming," she whispered, running her fingers over the outline of his face, her fingers sending chills over Elladan's body. Alyan pulled the silver cloak from her shoulders and laid it over the two strangers, protecting them from the sun.
Moments later, a tall, dark haired man, followed by a number of guards made their way over the sand and met the maiden who spoke softly to her brother.
"I do no think they mean harm Turn," Alyan said, "They are elvin and seem to be cast-a-ways. There are no supplies on board, and their vessel does not look like one fit to cross the seas. Their mast is broken and only one oar remains, they must have come through a bad storm. One of them, the dark haired one, he is alive, he saw me, but he could not speak and I reassured him we were here as friends. The other, I cannot be sure if he is living, he does not move and I have yet to feel air leave his lips."
Her brother motioned the guards towards the boat to asses the situation.
"Why did you approach them Alyan?" Turn, who looked much like a high ranked soldier questioned angrily, "You could have been hurt! You are too curious, too keen to know what you shouldn't. What would Father say if it had been he who answered the maid-servants call?"
Alyan looked determinedly up at her brother, "You know full well what father would say," she glared, and then started to smile, "He'd tell me off and then let me go hunting for boar. Don't be such a old man Turn," she laughed, "I can look after myself well enough, even fight better than half of your men, besides, orcs haven't patrolled the waterways for nearly 10 years."
"It still doesn't make it right," Turn replied.
"Be gentle with them Turn. Do not be so quick to judge," she replied with a sigh.
Turn nodded at his sister's words and sent her to prepare guest quarters and food from the kitchens; he would deal with the strangers. Bowing her head, Alyan hurried to do his bidding, knowing that the only way she would be able to see the strangers now, would be nursing them by lamp light.
Later that evening, Alyan rinsed the cloth she had been cooling the auburn haired elf with and wiped her own brow with her sleeve. Her mother had kept her busy all day, insisting that her brother could take care of the elves, and that she was more useful helping her prepare for the guests they were expecting within the new moon.
Finally, she had been able to come and care for their strange new visitors, having no trouble convincing her brother that his calloused hands were not made for nursing and now, she was exhausted.
The dark haired elf had spoken briefly, but he seemed to be in a daze. She had checked, his pulse and his temperature. There were no signs of fever and his heart was beating like a drum, perfectly healthy. He had asked who she was, and she had answered, although, she was sure he wouldn't remember. Then she asked who he was, and was suitably surprised. After he had settled, she hurried and passed the information onto her father.
Her shoes clicked softly onto the granite, as she slipped them off and made her way to the chair, nestled in a corner by the hearth on a large fur. Maybe she could sit and rest, just for a minute.
Lyethal turned his head and searched the grey stone walls, following the flickering candle light with his blue eyes until they rested on a woman, who sat comfortably in her chair by the fire, her eyes closed and the sewing she had started resting in her lap.
He then looked across the room where he saw Elladan, who sat propped up in pillows, a soft smile on his face.
"Welcome back to us, my friend," Elladan spoke softly and pressed a finger to his lips, indicating not to wake the woman, "Isn't she a sight to wake up too?"
"Where are we? And who is she?" Lyethal whispered, pulling himself up into a sitting position.
"She is Alyanîn, of the line of the Princes of Dol Amroth. Her father is the Lord Yulionîn, the son of Lady Gilmith, the Daughter of Mithrellas," Elladan waited for Lyethal to gather all the information he had been given.
"She is Silvan?" Lyethal asked, his eyes returning to gaze at the woman in surprise.
"Her great grand mother is her only connection to the elvish blood, but she does resemble them in appearance, does she not?"
Both elves studied Alyan sleeping. Her hair, the colour of the rich kelp in the sea, fell about her face in soft waves, accenting her dark red lips that looked like rose petals, waiting to be kissed by the sun. Her skin was the colour of marble, smooth and creamy and her eyes… Elladan had seen her eyes. They were the colour of the sea on a stormy day, a mixture of blues and soft greens and violent purples, overshadowed with the grey of the clouds that brought rain.
And now she slept so peacefully, that he hadn't the heart to disturb her. So he carefully eased out of his bed and moved to the fire where some broth hung low, bubbling in a cauldron over the simmering coals and he scooped some up into a bowl before taking it to Lyethal.
"That human nightgown suits you," Lyethal jested as Elladan handed him the meal, making reference to the long silver cotton gown Elladan was dressed in.
Elladan raised an eyebrow, "At least I am wearing clothes, the woman went red as a tomato when she examined you."
It was Lyethal's turn to blush, realizing quickly that his friend was right, because he wore nothing under the blankets and he quickly brought the broth to his lips, dismissing the subject.
"I see you're both awake!" said a voice from behind them, causing both elves to jump slightly.
Elladan turned to smile, "We did not wish to wake you Milady."
Alyan scoffed, "I was never sleeping Lord Elladan, just merely resting my eyes."
Lyethal grinned up at Elladan, "Smart girl that one."
Alyan grinned as she walked over and straightened out his bedcovers, "Nice to see you're still with us My Lord, you gave us all quite a scare, except for Lord Elladan of course, he seemed to think you would pull through," she pulled a face, "although he barely knew the difference was between you and old Rufus over there when he said that," she laughed, gesturing to the old hound that lay spread out before the hearth. "Well my family will be pleased to hear of your recovery Sir's, but I must recommend that you get more rest and that means back into bed my Lord Elladan."
Lyethal laughed as Alyan ushered Elladan back towards his bed like a chicken would her chicks and practically tucked him in, "Now that we know who you are, My brother will ride to Minas Tirith tomorrow and give word to King Elessar and the Lady Arwen of your arrival."
"Arwen?" Elladan smiled and settled back into the furs, "I would like to see her again."
"And so you shall, My Lord," said Alyan, "I'm sure she will rejoice at the news."
"I'm Lyethal," the other elf chipped in, feeling slightly left out by the lingering looks Elladan was offering Alyan, "and, there is no need for formalities here, just Lyethal will do."
Alyan smiled brightly, and moved over to his side, "Greetings Lyethal. There is much I would love to know about your journey and how you washed up on the beach of Belfalas, but for now, you both need rest."
"Of course My Lady," Elladan answered.
"Alyan, please, My Lady is how you would address my mother," she smirked.
Lyethal chuckled and Elladan smiled.
"Goodnight Lyethal," she curtsied slightly "My Lord Elladan," she inclined her head in his direction, " I wish you both a refreshing rest. If you need anything, my maid-servant has made a cot outside the door and will fetch me immediately."
"Goodnight Alyan, our lives are indebted to you,"said Elladan.
"Yes, if we can ever be of any assistance…" Lyethal added hastily, obviously smitten.
"I may take you up on that one day, my Lords and you may regret it," she smirked, and then blew out the candle she was holding before disapearingout of the room.
Notes
Beautiful stranger