Chapter Text
- "The Sea! Alas! I have not yet beheld it. But deep in the hearts of all my kindred lies the sea-longing, which it is perilous to stir. Alas! for the gulls. No peace shall I have again under beech or under elm."
- ― Legolas
The Lord of the Rings, Return of the King
To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling.
The voices of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,
In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!’
I pull my cloak tighter around me as Ruby and I make our slow way over the snow-covered road to home. The light rain of this morning has changed over to heavy wet snow, and the brisk breeze to bitter wind, but fortunately we are not too far away from our destination, for we have only been visiting very close neighbors to deliver special Yule gifts.
Of course Ruby is not my original beloved pony, but one of his many descendants, and home is not my beautiful Glittering Caves, but my current residence in Ithilien en Edhil. Ruby the first died nearly eighty years ago, and I retired as lord of Aglarond ten years ago in order to live full time with my elfling. The neighbor I have been visiting is Prince Elboron, dear Faramir’s son and the Yule gifts something that Legolas discovered last Autumn when on one of his better days he got up the energy to begin sorting through his things to throw away, give away or take along with us on the journey we plan to go on in the summer, a long journey from which there is no turning back.
In a long shallow wooden box he had discovered an assortment of sketches and near the bottom were some that he had done not long after the war. Among them were charcoal portraits of the members of the fellowship, including a very good likeness of Boromir. I had never seen them before since evidently Legolas had not thought to show them to me. He is much less impressed with his own talent than others are, and tends to think of such things as scribbles done in a quiet moment rather than works of art. However when I exclaimed enthusiastically over the quality of the work, he asked me shyly if I thought Elboron would like to have the one of his uncle. I had agreed that it would make a wonderful Yule gift, and now here we are only a few days before Yule.
As it turned out, I ended up delivering the gift on my own, for my lad was not up to making even such a short journey. The direction of the wind has made things hard on him in the last weeks, for even I can smell the tang of the sea on the breeze, and that, to him, is now a very dangerous thing now, for he has declined markedly since Aragorn’s death last spring. Shortly afterwards is when we finally made a plan to take the straight road before the year was out, though in my darkest moments I worry that we might have waited too late. At first after the decision had been made, he had rallied, and even took some interest in helping to design and begin construction on a ship, but since the winds have shifted it has been all I can do to prevent him giving into the lull of the gulls and crashing waves entirely. I now longingly recall my first weeks in Ithilien when I worried that I would not be able to find ways to fill my time. What a wonderful problem that was, though I did not appreciate it at the time. Now nearly every moment is spent in caring for my elf for he seems incapable most days of remembering how to care for even his most basic and most personal needs without my assistance. What time that isn’t spent on physical care is used up by attempting to distract his mind from the sounds of the sea and keep him with me in the present, for I cannot allow him to succumb to the song else I may never get him back. I do not like to rely on anyone else to care for such things, for I wish to keep his dignity in tact with the folks under his rule as much as possible, but at times I must, for on occasion I need to attend to other needs, such as today.
Originally the two of us had planned to visit Emyn Arnen together, but when it became apparent that that was not going to be possible, Legolas had pleaded with me to take the gift to Elboron myself rather than sending it with a messenger.
“It is our last Yule in Middle Earth, after all, Elvellon, and it would be so impersonal to send it by courier rather than one of the Lords of Ithilien en Edhil delivering it in person.”
Since at this point I find it nearly impossible to deny the lad anything he wishes for, I had promised to put the gift into Elboron’s hands myself, though I did not at all like the idea of leaving him this morning, even for just the daylight hours of one day, but having promised, I did so anyway, leaving him under the eye of our healer Master Handir.
So it is not just the bitter wind that has me hastening poor Ruby, for I am anxious to return to my charge to see how he has fared in my absence. With a pat of thanks for carrying me and the packages that have been sent from Emyn Arnen, I leave my Ruby in the nice warm stables where he will be fed and groomed, and generally spoiled by one of our skilled grooms. Then I hurry back to the main hall.
I leave the parcels in the sitting room, along with other packages that have been sent from Minas Tirith, Aglarond and even so far away as Eryn Lasgalen and Erebor. I had half expected to find Legolas here sitting listlessly before the fire in the or pacing restlessly as he is won’t to do on occasion, but since he is not there, he must be in his chambers. I reach the bottom of the stairs at the same time as Master Handir.
“Where is Lord Legolas?” I ask, as we begin climbing the stairs together.
“Finally sleeping, thank the Valar,” Handir tells me. “He seemed agitated this morning, but I managed to coerce him to rest not half an hour ago.”
I am pleased to hear that, for the poor lad finds it difficult to sleep, and normally only does so these days while I am present and he can touch me or hear my voice. Perhaps because it is their native home in the West, the elves here seem to have little success staving off the sea longing, but I, being more grounded in Middle Earth perhaps, am able to help him endure the worst symptoms.
“Ah well done, Master Handir. I am happy to hear it. Still I believe I will sit with him for a while”
“Very well,” he replies. “ I will just get my things and leave you to it then.”
We enter the chambers together, to find the bed empty, the window wide open, and very suspicious footprints in the snow on the roof. My heart leaps into my throat, for the roof is steep and slippery, but when Handir inspects he finds no broken body lying on the ground below.
“The trees respond to his desire rather than what is best for him,” he explains, “They’ve assisted him.”
We don’t even have to discuss what assistance he’s been given by his treeish friends, for we both know where he has gone. I grab his cloak off of its hook, race downstairs and hurry toward the Morgulduin.
“I wasn’t gone ten minutes,” Handir pleads, trotting beside me, “I thought he was sleeping.”
Handir is a good capable healer, and I am not truly angry with him, but fear makes me harsher than I wish to be.“He canna be left alone, ye daft elf, not even for a moment! Ye should know that by now!”
“I do know it,” Handir replies mournfully, “But it was literally a moment or two, I thought…”
“Never mind that now, lad, we both know where he is, so it is no trick to bring him back,, but we’d best hurry! In fact, I’ll catch up with him and ye take care of everything else.
Sadly we’ve had enough experience with the occasional incident where Legolas manages to give us the slip and find his way to the nearest body of water, that we have a practiced drill for his return. When I first moved here it was enough to require that he bring someone else along if he wished to go near the river, but within a few years I had to make the choice to forbid his going altogether. He did not like the restriction at the time, though he understood the sense of it, but now…well now rules and restrictions mean nothing to him. No amount of threatening or scolding makes a difference at this point either. If the opportunity presents itself, he will escape to the river from which so many of his folk here have begun their sea journey. It is as if some kind of instinct has taken over his self-control.
Fortunately Master Handir truly had only been away for a few minutes, so I manage to catch up with the lad before he gets to the water’s edge. I breathe a sigh of relief, for had I arrived five minutes from now, I would have very likely found him right in the middle of the river and the situation would have been far worse than it is now. It is bad enough as it is considering that the snow is falling heavily now and Legolas is dressed in an undershirt and leggings, no doubt having removed his outer tunic when Master Handir encouraged him to lie down.
“Legolas,” I call, out as soon as I am close enough that I think he can hear me. “Do not take one step further!”
But he does not turn his head or acknowledge me in any way until I get close enough to grasp the back of his shirt, and even then he just tugs against me as if he has snagged it on a tree branch and it trying to get loose.
But I hold firm, and pull him close enough that I can grasp his arm and then turn him to face me. Still he only attempts to turn back, so I give him a little shake and then speak in the stern voice that normally works to bring his mind back to the present.
“And just where do ye think ye are going, young elf?” I growl. He only tilts his head and looks at me as if I am someone he knew from long ago and he can’t quite place who I am, so I continue to scold hoping that the familiarity of my voice will work to bring him back to himself.
“I asked ye a question, youngling, and I expect a proper answer. Where exactly do ye think ye are going? Speak up, boy!”
Though his teeth are chattering with cold, he manages to answer, “I am only trying to get home.”
This poignant but honest answer makes me want to weep, but for his sake, I keep my voice steady.
“I understand, Lamb, but for now home is back in the other direction. Come let me take ye inside.”
I wrap the cloak that I brought with me around his shoulders, and it is then that I notice he is standing in several inches of wet snow wearing nothing but a pair of drenched socks, evidently not having even bothered to put his boots on before making his escape.
“Are you certain, Elvellon? I feel sure it is this way.”
I am relieved that he at least now knows who I am, for it is a sign that I am reaching him.
“I know ye feel so, Lambkin, but ye’ll have to trust me on that. Now let us not stand here debating any longer. Come along.”
“But…”
Rather than continuing this discussion out here in what is turning out to be nearly blizzard conditions, I merely lift him up in my arms, adjusting the cloak to protect his head. He makes a halfhearted attempt to struggle, but when I apply a light tap to one thigh, he seems to give in, and buries his face in my neck, and in this way, we make our way back to the hall.