As Uilossiel and Tancamir rode into Mithlond, the afternoon sunlight glimmered upon the pale stone buildings rising on either side of the thoroughfare. The cloudless sky was reflected in the bay that could be seen to the west, busy now with boats dotting the water and moving to and fro from the quays. Uilossiel smiled up at the white gulls circling the silver spires of Mithlond, thinking to herself that their calls were like a beautiful, solemn song. There was music everywhere in this land - in the whisper of the wind in the trees, in the lap of the waves against the quays, and even in the bustling traffic of the city streets. A few more days in Lindon, and she would be sure to come up with a poem, or perhaps a song or two, surrounded as she was by the music of spring.
Tancamir rode ahead on his horse, a doughty sorrel that had been a gift from the Rangers some years ago. He seemed to be lost in thought, glancing at the walls and buildings as if he was seeing them for the first time. But as they rode further into the city, his countenance began to brighten and Uilossiel thought she even heard him whistling a few snatches of song. She beamed. Few were immune to the charms of a perfect spring day such as this one.
It was no time at all before they came to a little stone house overlooking the bay, the doorway overgrown with brier roses. The pale pink blooms wreathed the entryway with their sprays of ruffled flowers, giving off a sweet scent that mingled with the smell of the sea. Tancamir dismounted and led his mount aside, motioning for her to do the same. He approached the door hesitantly, as if lost in a dream, and knocked twice.
In a moment, the door opened, revealing the kindly face of an older elleth. Her blonde hair was piled into a bun atop her head, but several tendrils of light golden hair escaped from it and twined around her smiling face. Her eyes were kindly and gentle, the colour of the sea on a calm summer's day, and her brow was lined with the cares of many years, though her smile was youthful. On her hip she held a little girl, scarcely a year old.
"Why, Cúrandir! It has been so, so long!" She hastened forwards to embrace him with one hand, while the child giggled excitedly at seeing her mother's expression. "Ulmo be praised, I had not thought to ever see you again, until I received your letter."
"Sister, Ningloriel. I ... forgive me." He gathered both mother and child into a slightly awkward embrace, then stepped back with a smile. "You have not met my sister, I gather. Ningloriel, this is Uilossiel, my second youngest sister. Uilossiel, please meet Ningloriel, who has been as good as a second mother and sister to me."
He stopped for the moment, as the child was regarding him with a wide blue-eyed gaze, wispy golden curls framing her face. She was sucking her thumb placidly, but pouted when her name was not mentioned. Tancamir smiled in spite of himself, and made a formal bow to her.
"Of course, how could I forget. You must be Súlivrin. I am Cúrandir, your mother's friend. This is my sister, Uilossiel."
Súlivrin scrunched up her pretty mouth for a moment, as if deep in thought. Then she removed her thumb from her mouth and giggled delightedly.
"Uncle 'Randir and Aunt 'Lossiel! Nana told me much about you." She clapped her little hands together, and kicked to be let down from her mother's grasp.
Ningloriel sighed exasperatedly and set her daughter on the ground. "Do come in, you two. And try not to mind Súlivrin too much, she has not stopped babbling since she learned to speak, evidently. There is wine and fruit upon the table - I had not known when you would arrive, but have been expecting so many visitors lately for business."
Evidently, as Tancamir told Uilossiel in a whisper, Súlrohir was away on one of his many sea voyages, which he often undertook in the spring. So Tancamir offered to stable the horses, and Uilossiel was left alone in the front room with Ningloriel, and the little golden-haired princess sitting imperiously upon her lap. In a moment, Súlivrin had slid off her mother's lap and was busily tugging on the hem of Uilossiel's robe.
"Ooh, Aunt 'Lossiel, Nana told me you would be bringing me presents! Please, please, please may I see them?"
Uilossiel smiled, somewhat taken back at the exuberance of the little elfling. Children had been few and far between in the valley of Imladris, and she had not spent much time in the presence of young ones since she had been a tutor in her girlhood. The last child she remembered playing with was her nephew Lachmir, and he had been of age for several years now. It was unexpectedly sweet to see the little blonde head bouncing with excitement, and the wide blue eyes staring up at her with anticipation.
"Yes, of course. Wait a moment and my brother, your ... Uncle Cúrandir will bring in the presents." She reached out her hands hesitantly as if to hug the girl, but Súlivrin had other ideas. She took a firm grasp of Uilossiel's arms and scrambled into her lap, turning around and placing one chubby hand upon Uilossiel's dark hair, which today fell unbound about her shoulders.
Ningloriel stood gracefully and poured three glasses of light wine. "You must be tired from travelling. It is such a pleasure to meet one of Cúrandir's family, and I could not be happier to make your acquaintance, Uilossiel."
Uilossiel managed to disengage Súlivrin from her hair, and hushed her with promises of all manner of presents. Presently she took a glass of wine and smiled at Ningloriel. "I feel like you must know my brother better than I do, as he must have stayed with you for a long time. He speaks fondly of you, and of ..." She checked herself as she was about to mention Falasgil, not knowing what effect it would have.
"Aye, that he does. He was a dear boy, and closer than a blood brother to Falasgil." Ningloriel smiled, no trace of sorrow in her face. "Valar know how busy they kept me, with their antics. That is perhaps one reason Súlrohir and I have not had any children until so late, you know? Two boys in one household is quite enough for a long time." She laughed merrily, and pushed a plate of berries forward.
"You must have some of these, Uilossiel. They grow only in the marshes near the sea, and are quite delicious. Súlivrin loves them particularly, do you not, my sweet?" She scooped up her daughter from where she was playing on the floor. Súlivrin squealed excitedly and made to grab a handful of fruit before her mother restrained her.
The two ladies fell to talking, and Uilossiel found Ningloriel to be as delightful a conversationalist as she was a hostess. She was gentle but witty, and gave Uilossiel endless amusement in telling of her work as a sail-weaver, and of Súlivrin's many misadventures. In return Uilossiel spoke of her work in the library of Imladris, and her frequent trips to Mithlond on business. Súlivrin flitted around the table, resting sometimes in her mother's lap, sometimes in her "Aunt 'Lossiel's," and intermittently stealing handfuls of berries from the table. Uilossiel's dark hair seemed to particularly fascinate her, and she would take handfuls of it in her chubby fists, as if comparing it in wonder to her own golden curls.
A moment later, Tancamir appeared in the doorway, holding a carefully wrapped parcel. Giggling with excitement, the elfling slid off her present perch in Uilossiel's lap, and toddled to his side.
"Presents!" She squealed. "Please, Nana may we open them now?" Ningloriel nodded, beaming at her daughter's exuberance.
"What do you say, Súlivrin?" she admonished gently.
The elfling turned to face Tancamir and piped up, "Thank you, Uncle 'Randir and Aunt 'Lossiel for bringing me presents." Then she ran excitedly to Tancamir. "Now please may we open them?"
Tancamir cracked a smile, and moved to sit down, laying the parcel upon the table. Súlivrin had to be assisted with the fine ropes that bound the canvas wrapping together, but when the fabric fell away she clapped her hands together with excitement. A marvellously carved wooden stag, gleaming with the loving polishing of many hours, was the first thing which emerged. Súlivrin instantly snatched it up and began playing with it, making running motions on the table with the stag.
"That was my present, yes. I carved it out of rowan wood, so it will be both light and durable." Tancamir said with a grin. "And if I remember, sister, you said that she was interested in archery? I would be happy to make her a little bow as well. Only I had no idea if she was old enough, and thought better of sending such a present. "
Ningloriel smiled. "Ai, I hope there will be a few more years left before she begins to terrorise me with ideas of archery and such. But the deer, it is beautiful work Cúrandir. It almost reminds me of the one we have in the spare room - that stag with magnificent antlers, do you remember?"
"Do I remember? That thing was the first thing I saw in the morning, and the last I saw at night, staring at me from the wall with its beady onyx eyes. Oh, how Falasgil wanted it mounted upon his wall, but no, there was no room." He shoved aside the remains of the wrapping with a chuckle. "I too hope it will be many years before Súlivrin decides to take up the bow and arrow. Though it is never too early to have her appreciate it."
Ningloriel stood, casting a fond glance at Súlivrin who was busily racing the stag across the sitting-room carpet and making busy deer-noises. She walked over to the other side of the table, and took an interested look at the remains of the parcel. A beautifully bound leather book lay upon the table, with letters embossed in gold upon the cover. Uilossiel smiled sheepishly.
"Ah, this is a favoured book among children in Imladris, a sort of primer on the Fëanorian letters. It was written in Tirion, supposedly, and I grew up reading my father's copy. I took the liberty of having a copy made for Súlivrin - as you see, the illustrations are very colourful, and the text is short but memorable. It will help her learn her letters, perhaps?" Uilossiel flipped open the pages to reveal wittily drawn illustrations, one for each letter of the Fëanorian system, and an accompanying rhyme.
"Aye, she has not learned her letters quite yet, though she seems quite eager to speak of anything and everything. I am sure she will love the book, though she seems quite pre-occupied with your brother's gift at the moment. " Ningloriel picked up the volume, turning the pages and exclaiming over the quality of the printing and of the delicate illuminations covering the pages. "This is a beautiful gift, Uilossiel. It will be a treasured part of our own library, I assure you."
Uilossiel smiled and motioned for Ningloriel to give her the book. Kneeling on the floor by the little girl, she called softly, "Súlivrin, here is my present. Would you like me to read you a story?"
There was a scuffling noise as Súlivrin turned and the skirts of her sky-blue dress rustled underneath her. The carved deer forgotten upon the carpet, the elfling broke into a wide smile and nodded vigorously.
"Is that book for me?" Eagerly she settled onto Uilossiel's lap, golden curls falling over her face as she bent over the open page. She made small cooing noises of excitement as Uilossiel began reading, and exclaimed over each new page of illustrations. Uilossiel was soon wholly absorbed in her reading, remembering the few precious times she had taught other children their letters. The warm weight of the little girl on her lap settled into a comforting presence as the afternoon wore on. Soon the golden curls drooped as Súlivrin snuggled into Uilossiel's arms and fell asleep, while Tancamir and Ningloriel continued to speak seated at the table.
Cradling the child's sleeping form in her arms, Uilossiel began humming an old lullaby more to herself than anyone else. The weight of the unknown seemed to lift from her shoulders as she let go of her fears for the future and revelled in the moment of happiness given to her in the present. She smiled down at the sleeping elfling, absently smoothing back her golden curls. A child was a wonderful thing in this time - a living proof that hope was still alive and that the light of the Eldar would endure, though shadows gathered in the East.
