Steer by the Stars

[thrihyrne]

Or, in which Kristi discovers that what she thought would be a fairly short set of one-shot vignettes about Aldarion from his POV is probably going to end up being really long. But potentially really, really interesting about two time periods in Numenor, and what it's like to deal with obsession. For all the would-be librarians out there, and you know who you are. Here's a prologue and first bit 'o Tolkienfic.

Spring, twenty-fifth year

In the morn I sail for the first time. Not my first sail, of course - from tales told to me before my own memory took hold, I have always been enthralled by the Sea, as though her lullaby of wind and waves were more powerful than the singing of my own tarinya - but for the first time I will sail so far that all land shall vanish from my sight. I am uncertain why this thrills me so; Númenor is beautiful, and while the splendors and majesty of far Middle-earth are renowned, it is not to seek farther shores which moves my heart. It is the thought of being on the open Sea, buoyed and rocked by Uinen as a babe in cradle. Though we are no children.

This venture does come with melancholy, as it will be the last great voyage for my beloved grandfather. I told him that he is yet hale and should be in command of the Númerrámar for many years, but I fear he is of one mind in his decision, and I will be unable to dissuade him. In my inmost heart, where the desires lodge of which I dare not speak - I write only, and should Uinen grant our safe return, they shall be locked in the cedar box given to me by father’s sister, Isilmë - I hope that we shall spend goodly time with the Shipwright. Once on the waters, I know I will be in no haste to return.

Rómenna, 1678

“Uillas! I have most extraordinary news!” Rordacan’s voice carried through the open window out to his wife, who was hanging up clothes. The carved and painted pegs seemed to flutter as much as the shifts and leggings clasped to them, as they were shaped to resemble butterflies, a generous gift handed down from his mother’s sister when Rordacan had wed.

“Yes? What is it?” Uillas asked, pulling up a tunic from the tub at her feet.

In an atypical show of affection, Rordacan clasped his wife from behind and kissed her plaited hair, then down her neck. She dropped the garment and turned in his arms, a bright smile on her face. “So- what is this news?”

Rordacan brushed a strand of chestnut hair off of her forehead. “I am to be in charge of a new project. A treasure trove of parchments has been discovered, some bound in books, many merely tied with twine. A few remain sealed, and my eyes shall be the first to read their contents, written early in the days of Númenor.”

His moss-colored eyes shone with delight. Uillas tilted her head, an amused expression on her face. “And who might the author be, that a cleric would rush home to tell his wife at mid-day?”

“That is what thrills into my very bones, gem of my heart. They are those of Tar-Aldarion. His writings are well-known, documenting his voyages to Middle-earth and his decision to assist Gil-Galad.”

“Yes, all children learn of the former Kings and Queens of the Isle,” Uillas interrupted. “Yet your training is in the restoration of tomes, not analysis and categorization.”

“I know. But I have much knowledge in the writings of that time, and since these appear to be of a more descriptive nature, the Master Cleric determined that I should be the one to read them and decide how they are to be bound, and where in the library they should be interspersed.”

Rordacan leaned in to kiss his wife, cradling her head in his hands. As they drew apart, she laughed and shook her head.

“It pleases me greatly to see you so happy. Tis indeed a rare man who has such a love of lore as you do.” She moved her arms up his back to settle them on his shoulders. “It is fitting that you should oversee this enterprise.”

“And to it I must return,” Rordacan said, then placed a chaste kiss on her lightly freckled cheek. “Ah, Uillas. Think on it. The Mariner King. Brîthil has already looked at one book and said there are preliminary sketches of what became the Palarran.”

Uillas sighed dramatically. “Hie thee, then, back to more ancient days. But do not be late for supper, as mother and father will be with us.”

“I promise,” he replied, grinning, then he strode across the small courtyard and out of her sight.

Comments

[llembas.livejournal.com]

is probably going to end up being really long.

Long is good, especially when it comes from you. :)


But potentially really, really interesting.

And yes, it's already really interesting. In a short few paragraphs you did a great job of introducing your characters. *squees*

[edrys.livejournal.com]

I'm home again! ::waves::

I spotted this here and in beta at HASA. I'm delighted you are following through on that inspiration. FYI I've posted a brief note to you via HASA's contact form about it, but in brief, I like the premise and look forward to a chance to read more (and with more time to absorb the details). :-)

Oh - I nearly forgot. Your letter arrived while I was away. At the moment I'm still trying to catch up with the rest of my life - mundane things like work, laundry, a husband and a cat, whom I was informed had moped around while we were gone (though I'm not sure which one was more woebegone, the husband or the cat :-p). But once I have a chance to sit still in a quiet place with no outside distractions, I will open this treasure. (((hugs)))