[piosenniel]

Child of the 7th Age’s post

Luindal gently pushed his cup of nectar to the side and peered intently across the Common Room; he had been startled to hear the message given to the Innkeeper. He craned his neck for a closer look and was even more surprised to observe that the messenger was someone he actually knew: Rôg the Shapechanger, a man of many talents who had last crossed his path during a visit to the home of a friend near Minas Tirith. The words the Shapechanger spoke seemed even more unlikely than the fact that the speaker had apparently materialized out of nowhere in the middle of the Havens. As Luindal well knew, the young man had certain special talents that even he and his fellow Elves could not match.

Luindal stood up and walked over to his friend, gesturing Rôg to join him at one of the corner tables; then, he stretched out his lanky frame and carefully listened to his companion’s strange tale of a Corsair sea captain who had recently arrived in the north searching for two ancient Stones at the bottom of the Ice Bay. Clearly, these were the palantiri of Annúminas and Amon Sôl that had sunk some thousand years before, when the Elven ship sent to rescue the King had capsized and all aboard, including Arvedui, perished beneath the ice.

Luindal first explained how the Stones could be used to communicate thought and images over great distances, and even to twist and manipulate the mind of the speaker on the other end, duplicitous acts that Sauron had once used to his own evil intent. With a sigh, he added, “I must take this news to Cirdan immediately. He has but late returned to the Havens, with ships to take more of our kin. I do not know what he will say, only that this could have terrible consequences for the peace of Arda and Elessar's intention to restore goodness to the land.”

Rôg responded, “What would you do then to help the Lossoth and rescue the Stones, if this thing were left to you?”

“Do not even ask!” Luindal’s frustration was evident in his curt denial. “I am but an Elven seafarer, a simple Wood-Elf with a knack for boats. Such questions are above me. Other Elves in the Havens understand these matters better than I do. Cirdan can decide what to do and have them mount an expedition to put things right.”

With the end of their conversation, Luindal offered to shelter his friend for the night. He had plenty of room on the swan ship Phalás, or Sea-Spirit, now moored beside the dock: this vessel currently served as his home. Hastily escorting Rôg down to the quay, Luindal offered his goodbyes and promised to return by dinnertime.

************

It was several hours later when Luindal returned to the Phalás. Rôg came out from below and greeted him on deck, anxious to learn what had happened.

For quite a while, Luindal said nothing, instead pulling a plug of weed from his satchel along with a pipe as he stood by the rail blowing decorative smoke rings while staring stubbornly at the water. Finally, he spoke, “A nice habit, this.” Luindal gestured to his pipe. “I picked this up on my most recent voyage to Gondor where I had the good fortune to meet two periannath who had friends in Minas Tirith.”

“That is what keeps me here instead of sailing with my family--the chance to explore the wonders of the Sea, to meet new people and hear new things. Early on, I could have left any day, if I wished. I might have walked to the harbor and climbed aboard Cirdan’s vessel. Even now, Cirdan has returned once more and another shipload of my people will soon depart. Today, I wonder if I should take passage on that ship. Yet it appears that this cannot be. ”

In a lower voice, he added, “Your news was taken seriously. In fact, tomorrow, before we leave, Cirdan wishes to speak with you privately.”

“Before we leave?” Rôg interrupted.

“Yes, I’m afraid that’s right…. I am to go north in two days. In fact, I am to command the ship that sails to the Bay. And somehow, we are to retrieve the Stones before the Corsairs do. If we cannot do that and they get there first, we must challenge them to battle. Whatever happens, they cannot come away with those Stones. It could be the death of Gondor. Cirdan says that there are few left who have experience sailing and fighting. Sadly, I happen to be among those few.”

Luindal took another puff on his pipe and observed. “As a youngster, I heard many tales from my mother about Elves who had such knowledge of shipbuilding and sailing that their skill was deemed an art. Even today, we sing songs that recall their golden deeds. Only now these Elves are gone, and it is left to me.”

Luindal stared over at Rôg, “These Snowmen of yours….they should have had you fly to Minas Tirith and ask the Men for help. It is their age now, not mine. I thought I had seen my last fighting when the Ring War ended. I know this must be done and I will do my best, but I wish it might be different. The last time an Elven ship was sent to the Bay, everyone aboard perished.”

“Luindal, I am sorry for that other Elven ship,” Rôg interrupted. “And sorry also that this burden must fall to you who do not wish to carry it. But, the Corsairs have made the lives of the Lossoth miserable and I feared they would do the same to others. The Snowmen cannot wait for Men to travel north. Elessar’s help would have come too late.”

“I understand,” his friend nodded. “You were right to do as you did. With these Stones, the Corsairs could force their will on many. I will not speak of my feelings again. And I promise you that I will do everything in my power to stop the Corsairs from seizing these Stones. By right, they do not even belong to the Elves, but to Elessar. Come now. Let us talk as friends and have some dinner. We will need all the strength we can muster over the next few weeks.”

With that exchange, the companions turned and went below, where Rôg had already set out a meal for them to share.

The conversation finally turned to their impending trip to the north as Luindal noted, "I have no fear of getting there. The Stars will guide us north. It should take only a week or so, once we put out to Sea. I wish it were earlier in the year. Yet, there is still time to make it through. Whatever weather comes, I can bring the ship to anchor in the Bay. It is what happens afterwards that bothers me. Whatever we do must happen soon or we run the risk of being trapped over the winter, or even of wrecking the ship. I do not want to repeat Arvedui's mistake; nor do I want to spend months battling Corsairs, of whom I personally know nothing other than the unpleasant tales I've heard from you and Mithadan."

Luindal fingered a piece of food and pushed it over to the side of his plate. Given the responsibilities weighing on his head, he had little appetite. “It's true that I can personally stand frigid weather and ice storms with little problem, and I know how to swim quite well. But knowing how to swim is a bit different than diving down to the bottom of the Bay and somehow locating ancient objects that have been lost over a thousand years. Once we find them, we can use a winch to heave up the Stones. It is locating them, and attaching the straps and ropes that remains the main problem. I have no ideas of my own."