[Inziladun]

As Vëandur sat, a youngish-looking man came through the gate.

He looked to be near Vëandur's own age, and was girt with a sword. The man looked at Vëandur as he walked nearer.

"May I sit here?" he said.

"Of course, friend", said Vënadur. He stood and held out his right hand in salute. "Vëandur son of Falastur."

"Aldarion son of Galador", said the other, doing the same.

"Well, friend Aladrion", said Vëandur. "I know not your errand. But if time does not press you, perhaps we can take our ease for a moment."

Smiling, Aldarion said "I may spare a few minutes."

Both then sat.

"Well, you are from the coast-lands, I am thinking? I come from Pelargir, myself."

"Why do you think that?" asked Aldarion.

"I spoke no secret, I hope", said Vëandur. "Your speech betrays you. One on my ship is of the Anfalas, and the sound of your words is like to his."

"Your ship?" You are a sailor?"

"I am", said Vëandur, and the pride in his voice was unmistakable. "Like my father, who died in the action at Pelargir, I serve in the fleets."

"As the captain?", asked Aldarion, thinking of things he'd heard about sailors before. Few of them were especially pleasant.

"Captain? Nay", said Vëandur with a laugh. "The helmsman am I, and I consider it a great honor. Captain I may yet be though, one day, when I am proven. My errand I have just completed was to my captain in the circles above. He is at council with others of his rank. Do you come from the coast, as I thought, Aldarion? A soldier you are, I deem. Though, as I, I think you are too young to have fought in the War".

"I am from Dol Amroth. My father fought, in the conflict", Aldarion said guardedly.

"And with valour and prowess I doubt not. In these days of peace, I wonder if we shall have such a chance to prove ourselves in battle."

"I'm not a soldier", said Aldarion. "I act with the King's Players."

Vëandur gaped at him with astonishment. "Your pardon!" he said. "I meant no offense. It's just that....well....you have the look of a valiant man, and with the blood or warriors in your veins, I thought you must be a fighter in the service of the King."

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Aldarion, and Vëandur thought he struggled to conceal some emotion.

"No, forgive me, friend Aladrion. But tell me then what manner of folk are the King's Players?"

Aldarion began to speak, and Vëandur did not interrupt him.

When he had finished, Vëandur said slowly "Ah! Well, I had that wrong too! So you are re-enacting the events of the war. I can see the good of it, I guess; people need to be reminded. Still, though...." and he hesitated. "it seems a waste. Great service you could give to the Crown, as did your father. You have also the noble blood of Dol Amroth, which works in you. Why choose you a life such as this?"

"Because I wanted to," said Aldarion with a shrug. I have loved acting as you have loved the ships. Each man must choose his own calling."

"That is true," said Vëandur. Still, though. I think on what my own father said to me when I was young: 'Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for Gondor,' is what he would say. I have lived my life with that in my heart."

Aldarion said nothing, but looked as if he wanted to leave. Vëandur stood, and bowed before him.

"Your pardon, for my forward words," he said. "My blood runs hot at whiles, and my tongue is freer than it should be. I will leave you now to your errand. I would very much like to see your play and your version of the great events of the War, but I fear my ship shall leave soon. If I see you not again, may you fare well, and free".

Bowing again, Vëandur began to walk away.