Calimir's stomach had leapt at the thought of traveling to Harad by ship. He didn't know quite where he stood about the idea. As the company walked down toward the pier, Calimir stayed close to Enien, unable to still the strange fluttering of his heart. He hadn't seen the ocean, nor had he been on any boat larger than a small rowboat on a lake.
As they neared the ship a cool wind began to whip about their faces, and a soft whispering let Calimir know that they were approaching the water. Soon the ship came into sight, tall masted and with a carved dragon on the prow. Calimir stared at it for a moment, hesitant to approach it closer. They stopped on the wharf for a while, while Ani Dao and Rangar talked. Calimir pulled a knife from his belt and turned it in his hands, idly. A small shove from the side caused him to slip, and slice his index finger open.
"Enien!" Calimir, snapped, "Pay more attention." he wrapped the injured finger in the hem of his tunic.
"Relax, Mellon." Enien said to him, "It's only a ship. You aren't leaving forever yet." Calimir exhaled slowly, realizing that Enien had discovered just what his trouble was. He met her eyes cautiously and stepped toward the ship. Most of the rest of the company was already aboard. Calimir walked up the gangplank slowly, feeling the unfamiliar motion under his feet. The breeze was a little stronger as they left the shelter of the buildings on the pier, and it carried a strange smell, a tangy mix of fish and dampness.
Ani Dao, their elven captain, stopped him as he walked past her. "Mae Govannen!" she said, with a faint note of surprise in her voice.
"Mae Govannen," Calimir replied, "You are from Mirkwood?" he asked her, wondering how an elven woman of Mirkwood ended up as a ship's captain in Gondor.
"Aye, I am." her eyes twinkled as she answered Calimir's unspoken question. "It's a long story, how I got here, friend. A story for another time, I think." She grinned widely. "Welcome aboard the Silver Wyrm!"
Calimir took his leave of Ani Dao and took his pack below the deck, the curious rocking was exaggerated down here, and he was unsteady on his feet, leaning a hand to the wall as he tossed his things onto one of the narrow bunks and sat down. He closed his eyes, imagining Glorenwen beside him, imagining the time they would leave at last...
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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