Earendril Perspective

 I thought I was hallucinating. Right, I must be out of my mind, gone absolutely and helplessly insane. To me, the sea was more than a simple longing, it was life itself. The water that sloshed against Vingilot like the very blood in my veins, the scent of salt clinging to my clothes. When everything was confusing, a turmoil of emotion and grief so deep in my chest, I would look down into the murky depths. It would be like I was a young boy again, with the ash of my home burned into my lungs and my heart trembling from the near miss of the reaper’s scythe, looking into the depths for answers that would always be there. But it had been more days at the waters than I could count now, a fruitless search for friends long gone, of gods who seemed blind to the plights and cries of mortals. The blonde of my hair was starting to turn as dark as the sea under the night sky, the once vibrant blues of my eyes growing weary with exhaustion. Was it merely because of the darkness? Or hope escaping like the light of dying embers? It was then that she appeared to me. My Elwing. She was always beautiful, no, beauty wasn’t the right word to describe it. She had this ability to tug every cell in your soul with just the simple quirk of her lips. It was embarrassing, how she turned this mighty king into a bumbling fool. But now? Now she was ethereal,  large wings emerging from the back as if she’d turned into some sort of swan, blinding light filling my vision from the silmilar lodged into her heart and filling the darkness of the sea faster than I could say the ‘I missed you’ just on my lips. Wait. The sea. A bitter feeling of terror took hold then, because she wasn’t supposed to be here, she was supposed to be safe, at home! And then? Then the story came out, of bloodshed, weeping mothers and screaming children and a cycle of violence I never wanted her to ever experience. Mortality was not something Elwing was acquainted with. No one ever spoke to her of the sudden lack of existence, not a fading. Not the kind that would let you hold the hand of those you loved as you exchanged whispered goodbyes, but a quick and tortuous kidnapping, there and then the next moment not. She was weeping, and as a tear fell down my cheek I realized so was I. Yet as I held her trembling body in my arms and looked down to the gleaming jewel on her bosom, I couldn’t fathom how one simple stone could lead to so much chaos. With renowned vigor and heavy breaths shaken for the lives of comrades I would never get to see again I looked back at the sea and was reminded of just why I was doing this. Valar. One way or another, salvation would be reached.