This story is a part of a series. Read the first one here.
I open my eyes again to the crashing waves of the ocean. This time I am knee-deep in the waters. The skies are dark with clouds and the breeze is cold, and angry. I see lightning far in the distance and my comfort falters. I do not have to turn to know that Cuvallorn is there beside me.
“Do you dream often of this shoreline?” I ask, bracing myself against a wave that nearly knocks my feet out of their roots in the sand. Cuvallorn does not seem as fazed by the crashing waters.
“I do not bring you to my dreams, Amathlan,” he replies evenly. “I merely come to yours. The question remains, then, for how long have you been dreaming of the sea?” As he poses this inquiry, we turn to look at each other. There is a glint in his eye that matches the subtle smirk on his face that reminds me vehemently of Seregrian. I now decide that they would be either the best of friends or the worst of enemies - and likely the latter.
As for his question, I do not want to answer. I remain silent as another wave hits my knees. The water is cold, not warm and comforting like it was the previous night. He takes my silence as his answer, and then speaks.
“Do you long for the ocean, old friend? Or do you fear it?” He asks. His gaze pulls away from mine to look to the storm brewing in the distance. “Do you fear leaving or being left, I think, is the better question.”
Silence. I hate how insightful he is. When we were younger, the century between our ages seemed like a gap he would never cross. Now, in our millennia of years, he has surpassed me. Not that it would be hard to do so, as I am no scholar, but the indignant feeling in my chest remains.
Cuvallorn chuckles as if he can sense this.
“Why did you stay in Evendim? Did the lake there not remind you of your inevitable fate? Or did you think it would help you confront that fear?” He presses. It’s like speaking to my own conscience.
“Why do you ask me these questions?” I beg of him when I find my voice. Crash. Another wave has nearly knocked me off my feet.
“I have had much time to think of you in your absence, Amathlan. And I know you - you will not ask yourself these questions. So if you are to stay with this Company, in Arda, to fight and protect - just like I know you will… you need to face yourself.” He turns to face me entirely, the waves crashing against his side. “I swore to you at Dagorlad when you saved me that I would not depart these shores ere the time came when you and yours left. I intend to keep that oath.”
I remember that day vividly.
“I told Ithilwe that you were the one who saved me,” I confess. I don’t know why I am telling Cuvallorn this, but it needs to be said. I see the confusion cross his face, and speak again before he has the chance. “If I had not stopped to carry you back out of the midst of battle, surely we would have both perished.”
He pauses, silent for a long time. I know I have given him something to think about. He clears his throat.
“That is why you waited for me to awake that day. Hm… and all this time, I thought…” he trails off. He did that on occasion. He would leave people wondering what he was going to say, how his mind worked. But he would never tell.
“When your Company comes to Imladris, seek me out. I will not join you, but I can offer aid and respite. I want to meet this Seregrian and Ithilwe you have written to me of. And… I have something I want to give you. But for now… think on the questions I have posed you, and I have thought on those you posed me. I will not disturb your slumber again.”
