((continuation of Essenya))
Three summers ago, Mithlond
Earcalie was lazying about the streets of Mithlond, wandering aimlessly simply enjoying the breeze, the sun and the far noise of shipbuilders and busy elves going about their daily tasks. Outside of Imladris, she found that the sound of elven work went quieter and quieter with each passing season and she shouldn’t be surprised, with more and more leaving Ennor. But, like in the hidden valley, her folk still kept themselves busy, if for different reasons. Walking on cobbled stones she took a long winding road that she knew would bring her to an elevated terrace where many of the residents enjoyed taking a moment of relax.
Upon arriving at the terrace, she saw few admiring the view, one of them in particular draw her gaze. It was an elleth, dressed in white and chestnut hair tied in a braid. She was sitting in front of a canvas, holding a wide brush in a hand and a palette filled with blues and white shades of paint. She recognized her for one of her uncle’s acquaintances, so she strode and greeted her.
“Ae! Tecemmare! Good to see you here”
The elf turned and smiles upon seeing her, her eyes crinkling with thin wrinkles. “Little Earcalie, hello!”
“Ugh” she muttered, and Tecemmare chuckled. “I did not expect to see you here. If you had sent me a letter, I would have prepared biscuits and tea”
“I didn’t think I’d find anyone here at this time. You live far south after all. So I can say the same to you. As for uncle, he’s here on business, I merely accompanied him.”
She peered down at the canvas, where a half finished seascape waited to be filled with paint. “You had a bout of sudden inspiration?”
“Somewhat…”. She audibly sighed, and Earcalie frowned, as her tone of voice suddenly became wistful. “Inspiration seems to come to me less and less. It has been so for a while now, and I’ve come to the realization that…”
“Don’t tell me you are going to sail away”. She cut her answer. The older elleth simply smiled and nodded. “I long felt the tug of longing and finally, it is time that I listen to it”
Seeing how the younger elleth started sulking and frowning, Tecemmare lightly chuckled and patted her on the head. “I would have sailed sooner or later”
“I’d have preferred later rather then sooner. Did you tell uncle?”
“No, not yet. I shall, once I finished my painting”. She turned back to the canvas, dipped her brush in dark blue paint, and started filling in the sketch of far away waves. Earcalie watched her work for a while in silence, her hand applying the brushstrokes in a rhythmical way, as if those were real waves rolling. She had one of her paintings hang in her room in the Forlindon mansion: a beautiful panorama of Tumladen on a sunny day, with Gondolin in the center, banners raised and Turgon’s Tower depicted as if made of crystal. Tecemmare had lived in the Hidden City as her family did, that painting was a begetting day gift commissioned by her mother, in fact, and she always treasured it… doubly so now that the painter decided to leave forever. She held back a sigh t not disturb her and settled for watching the painting slowly take life.
Take life indeed, for Tecemmare’s skill in her art was her realism. The seascape she was creating so precise to the actual sea in front of them, it was as if she placed a mirror in front of it, not a canvas. Her waves painted with varying hues of blue roiled, the white foam spraying against the rocks, even the clouds seemed to blow in the direction of the wind. Curious, she closed her eyes and focused her ears to catch the Song that makes everyone homesick… only for the older elleth to grab her wrist and shake her awake.
“Don’t”
“Ah? What?” Earcalie shook her head. “Don’t do it” Tecemmare replied. “It is not your time yet. You are young and do not feel the longing for the Blessed Realm. You shouldn’t listen until you feel your time has come”. She released the grip on her wrist. “Alright? Sorry”.
The elder elleth smiled again. “No harm done”. She resumed painting in silence, none of the two speaking until she applied the final stroke and put down the palette. She moved the canvas on level with the sea, so it was as if the portion of Belegaer painted looked like a seamless continuation of the horizon.Once again, Earcalie felt like she was staring into a mirror, not a canvas.
“You know…” Tecemmare whispered “I think I shall gift this to you and Histealdo. I shall paint new shores soon, but this… this shall be a memory we can all share”
“If you are sure, then I’ll go find him. He’ll be pleasantly surprised to see you! He’s probably talking to someone at the docks about yet another caravan…. booooring”. She scampered down the road leaving a dumbfounded Tecemmare making order of her painting tools and covering the canvas as t not spoil the surprise.
First her parents, then her friends… she knew the inevitability of sailing for the Eldar, but she didn’t think she’d ever get used to saying goodbye.
some names:
Tecemmare: female for painter, Tecemmar, quenya
Ennor: Middle-Earth in sindarin
Ae! Tecemmare!: Well met! Tecemmare! sind.
