Chapter Ten
"Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls…"
"My Lord!"
Elladan paused and allowed Eglerion to meet him in the corridor. The time was nearing for departure, and with new elves arriving every day, the pressures of managing the Havens was increasing.
"Eglerion, walk with me," Elladan said, "I have letters to answer and I can only spare you a moment."
"Certainly, my lord," the younger elf fell into stride with him, "We are ready to take the ship out on a maiden voyage. The weather should be clear for the next several days and, with your permission, I would like to be part of the crew."
Elladan eyed the strapping elf beside him, "Have you experience?"
Eglerion smiled, "I've lived near the water all my life. I would like the challenge."
"Indeed. Well, I can think of no reason to disallow it. Who would be your captain? Elohir?"
"Yes, lord."
Eglerion stopped in the middle of the corridor before Cirdan's office that Elladan was occupying. Itarilde was sitting on a small bench just outside. She shot to her feet when she saw them. Her fingers were fidgeting with a bit of her skirt until she noticed and clasped her hands together and stilled him. Eglerion seemed tense. Elladan felt suddenly awkward.
"Uh, very well, Eglerion," he said, "Bring me a list of the entire test crew to approve by this evening."
"Aye, my lord."
Eglerion and Itarilde continued to stare at each other until Elladan cleared his throat and said, "How may I help you my dear?"
Elladan swept the elleth under his arm turning his back on Eglerion in a clear dismissal. Itarilde cast one glance back at her betrothed, but there was no reassurance in her eyes. Eglerion allowed his confusion and concern to flash across his face before turning and walking briskly away.
"Please have a seat, my dear," Elladan said.
Itarilde looked around the familiar office of the Haven guardian. It was rearranged to the prince's liking. The tall desk Cirdan favored was respectfully positioned to the said near his many books and replaced with a low table that was littered with papers, ink and pens and sealing wax. It was strange to be in the room and not seeing the Shipwright.
Itarilde took the chair she always sat in during her visits.
Elladan waited patiently at his desk.
"How is your hand?" he asked kindly.
"Much better," she answered, "Very nearly healed. Thank you for asking."
"Good. That is good." He smiled, "What brings you to me today?"
Itarilde took a deep breath, "I would like to return to my former duties, my lord. If that is possible?"
"You will have to remind me," Elladan confessed.
"Oh, of course," Itarilde laughed nervously, "The children, I used to care of the little ones before—before I changed my attention to the ship."
"Ah yes. I remember now." Elladan smiled, "You were the one who had a children hanging off of every limb when I first arrived. I had forgotten it."
"So had I. I miss them dreadfully. May I return to them?"
"Of course you may," said Elladan. He then leaned back into his chair and without realizing suddenly looked exactly like his father, "Might I ask why you desire this sudden change?"
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask," Itarilde attempted ruefully. She traced the healing scar on her palm, "I realized recently, that I had felt many of my old loves for new ones in the last year. I know there is nothing wrong with it, but I have felt-disjointed, off kilter—since that time."
Her dark eyes were suddenly wet and she bowed her head to hide it, "I have not been myself for a long time. I am hoping that by returning to the children I will discover my contentment again." Her voice choked slightly on the word.
"I beg your pardon, my lord; I do not mean to be emotional."
Elladan answered as if he had not noticed, "It seems perfectly reasonable to me. Changes can be good for the soul, but I understand that," here he added emphasis to his words, "If choices were made in haste that you regret now, it is much better that they be corrected before too much time passes in unhappiness. Do you understand me, Itarilde?"
He spoke with such knowingness, Itarilde looked at him sharply. Elladan only smiled back encouragingly.
"I do." Itarilde stood to her feet, "Thank you for your time, I know it is precious."
"Well, I don't mind," he answered, "It gave me a brief reason to avoid this." He gestured to his desk, "But now I must turn my eye to it."
"Of course," Itarilde curtsied and left the room feeling lighter.
Evening fell soft and sweet on the Haven. The seasons were changing and autumn was just beginning to bring her cool twilight to the shore side. Itarilde had spent a long day with the children. They had played and tumbled and laughed until they were exhausted. Bathes were had and early dinner in the children's quarters was merry. Itarilde tucked in the last sleepy baby before going to the great hall for her own dinner.
The hall was bursting with new arrivals. Many elves were leaving on this ship and their merriment at the approaching departure was evident. Several minstrels were playing together in a corner and a robust fire was kindled in the giant hearth to keep away the crisp fingers of autumn's first chill.
Stopping in the doorway, Itarilde took a deep, satisfied breath. Here were her people; here was her usual contented life. Here in the Havens.
"You look—beautiful."
She turned to find Eglerion looking at her as if for the first time.
"I do?" she blushed. And she did. Her neat dress was disarranged by the toils of the afternoon. Her hemline was still damp with bath water. Tendrils of hair were escaping her braids and creating a little dark halo around her rose face.
His head to one side, Eglerion nodded, "You look-happier than I have seen you for a long time."
The sadness in this comment made her look down and she noticed his clothing for the first time.
"You're going sailing?"
He stood taller, "Yes, we take the ship out tomorrow for a test of her strength. I asked to be part of the crew. That was what Lord Elladan and I were talking about when we came upon you this afternoon."
"Aha," she knew he was waiting for her to offer up similar information about her talk with Elladan. Instead she asked, "I'm famished. Shall we talk while we eat?"
He offered her his arm and she took it.
Over a dinner of fish, rolls and fresh fruit, Eglerion and Itarilde spoke about their afternoons. Itarilde explained about her desire to take care of the children once more. He mentioned his interest in learning all there was to know about sailing such a vessel as the ship they had built. It was the best conversation they had had in several weeks and it was while impersonal. It was as if they were strangers making polite chatter with someone they had just met.
As they stood to leave the meal, Eglerion once again offered her his arm, "Shall we go for a walk?"
"Yes, please. I love the cold in the air tonight," Itarilde answered. Now would be the time for it; now, when they were being frank and open.
Eglerion threw his cloak around her, and they walked along the paths outside the great hall. The night was peaceful. The seas murmured gently against the shore and the wind was so soft it barely stirred. Ulmo was quiet in his watery depths. Torches lit the pathways, but stars were beginning to appear over their heads.
"The ship is going to leave in a few weeks," Eglerion said.
"I know."
"If she passes her maiden voyage, we should be ready to go in a fortnight." He went on, "I think she will pass. She's an excellent vessel."
"They all are. My parent's ship was just as beautiful, smaller, but just as graceful. No mistaking the craftsmanship of the Shipwright." Itarilde said softly. The moment was coming soon now. Her throat and chest felt tight with the pressure.
"Darling." He stopped.
He took her right hand and gently traced the lines of it with his fingertips.
"My love, we cannot go on like this anymore."
Her eyes met his and flicked away, "I know."
She went on, "I wanted to love you. I thought I could make myself love you."
He winced at the words.
"But I cannot." She licked her lips and pressed forward, "And we are not happy in this together."
"No." he agreed heavily, "We are not."
"I am sorry," she pressed his hands in hers, "I am so sorry. I was so stupid to play with your heart. I was a fool."
He shook his head, "I knew better—should have known better than to pursue you. You're not ready to leave Arda are you?"
"No."
"But I am," he replied, "I have been ready for a long time. I thought perhaps you would be a joyful companion for my life in Valinor. I thought I might be a good husband to you. But I seem to have only brought you pain."
"No," she protested.
He stopped her, "Itarilde, I have. I was selfish for you. I ignored your unhappiness because I was convinced that I could make you love me as much as I loved you. But that—is not love. And it has made me into a person I do not recognize or care to be."
Itarilde gaped at him. Where had this candor come from?
"Then, I released you from our contract," she said weakly. Her head was spinning. Here was an end to it all. Here was an end to trying to discover why she did not love Eglerion and why she pined so for—
He was speaking again.
"I shall depart tomorrow for the voyage and after that I will take my leave. We needn't see each other again after this evening if you wish it."
"I don't know," she answered honestly, "Perhaps it would be for the best. I am not well-schooled in these matters, and I feel that anything I do merely makes it worse."
She clasped his hands, "I do want you to be happy. I want you to go to Valinor and find your peace. You are a good man."
He touched her cheek, "Goodbye, Itarilde. May the stars light your path."
"And yours," she said tearfully.
Eglerion leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek, his lips soft and cool on her skin. She closed her eyes for a moment and he was gone.
Itarilde stood for a long time under the starlight. Her heart was heavy with the sorrow of such an unfortunate, ill-fated affection. It would never happen again. She would not allow herself to hurt another elf the way she had hurt Eglerion. Never again, would she try to make herself into a different person to fit with another. Now she was simply Itarilde.
All at once a great heaviness slid away from her heart. Itarilde took a deep, breath and released it into the cool night air. She felt warm through and through and light as a feather.
The wind changed and played in the wisps of her hair and Itarilde smiled. Throwing off the heavy cloak she wore, Itarilde went down to the beach and danced with the joy of Nessa in her heart.
