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Vëandur looked at Aldarion, and his face was unusually thoughtful. He had never been asked, nor had he ever even considered the question he had just been asked.
"Why the Sea?" he said slowly. "Why does it call to me, and so many others? I know not the answer. I have heard it said that in its voice we hear the sound of far off ages, and indeed that it alone speaks with the same voice as it did when Númenor still rose above the waves, and even longer ago, when Men like Tuor and Túrin walked the world." He paused for a moment.
"All my life have I lived with the Sea, and by it, with the fish it gives us. I respect it, for such a man who does not is a fool. But I do not fear it. If the Sea wants my life, I shall freely give it, as the Sea has given to me and those of my kin for so long." He looked at Aldarion closely.
"I wonder that one who was born in Dol Amroth should speak so. I know not how one who hears the voice of the Sea can be unmoved and not enchanted by it. But if such is the case with you, perhaps you do well to avoid it". He turned again to go.
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