A Deed Unforgiven by LadySternchen  

Flashback- Eärendi

“It is nice to have somebody to talk to. Everyone here seems so busy.”

Eärendil looked up at the girl, surprised. He had never consciously met her before today, let alone talked to her. Or maybe he had just not noticed, which was, now that he came to think of it, very likely. There had just been too many new faces in the past days.

Should he have walked over to and talked to her as soon as he had noticed her on the beach? Maybe. She certainly had, and had not bothered with anything so crude as a greeting.

Now what was he supposed to say? Talk about the mussels they had both collected? Would that be insensitive, seeing that her own basket was only half filled, while Eärendil’s was brimming over with mussels? But then, she had not seemed at all interested in collecting dinner, had rather just watched the rushing waves. That in itself made Eärendil both jealous and quite awed. He would have liked to do just that, but with everyone being so tense and sad, he did not dare take that time to himself. The girl did, though, and as much as he wanted to be annoyed about it and simply disregard her behaviour as selfish, he could not. There was no way he could dislike anyone who was so mesmerised by the sea.

“Do you not have your parents to talk to?”

Her expression did not change, but Eärendil thought that beneath the strands of black hair that the sea-breeze whipped across her face, she paled somewhat.

“My parents and brothers are dead. My mother died right after we arrived here. Of grief, my grandmother said.”

“I’m sorry.”

He meant it, too. He had not wanted to make her sad. But maybe it would help her to know that she was not alone.

“My grandfather is dead, too. All my grandparents, in fact. But I only ever knew my mother’s father. He fell with his city.”

“HIS city?”

“My grandfather was Turgon of Gondolin, High King of the Noldor. But to me, he was only ever my grandfather. And I miss him greatly."

“I am sorry!”

She sounded just as sincere as he had been earlier. It really did feel better to know they shared their grief.

“My grandparents -my father’s parents, that is- died when I was very very small, I hardly remember them. My grandfather was mortal, and my grandmother died of grief when he passed away. I still have my other grandmother, though. And a couple of other relatives from my mother’s side. They live on the island, as my… um, let me count- great-great-grandfather is Círdan’s cousin. Or my great-grandfather on the other side… well, never mind my complicated family history.”

Eärendil had not listened to her explanations about her family beyond her mentioning her grandfather, excitement rushing through him.

“So you are a Half-Elven, too. I never knew there were others! My mother is an Elf, obviously, but my father is a mortal man as well, he is a great friend of Círdan and always tells men the most amazing stories about the sea. I am Eärendil, by the way.”

“Elwing. And my father was the half-elf. Kind of.” She paused for a moment, then added “Well, no, in truth he was one-quater-elf.”

His expression must have looked very dumb, for Elwing grinned a little for the first time. And oh, did she look stunningly beautiful when she did.

“You say your father tells you tales of the sea… does he tell you about Ossë and Unien?”

“No. But Círdan often does.”

Ewing’s grin broadened.

“Well, Eärendil, you might be of royal decent, but my great-grandmother, she was one of THEIR kind. She was a queen of Elves too, mind you, but I give you the grace of that being too far back for me to claim to be of royal blood.”

Once more, only the first part of her sentence had registered with Eärendil.

“Whose kind?”

“Ossë and Uinen’s, silly. She taught the all the birds their song.”

Eärendil huffed.

“That is not possible. Everyone knows that. Do you think me THAT stupid?”

If Elwing would grin any more broadly, her jaw would fall off. She was being very annoying. But unfortunately, also very endearing.
“Oh no? How do you explain that, then?”

Eärendil felt his own jaw drop. There were seagulls all around her basket, but they were not stealing her gathered mussels. They were adding more, carrying them in their beaks and dropping them neatly into the basket.

They were doing Elwing’s will.