66: Tourists in Tavrobel

"So, are your families fisherfolk or shipbuilders?" Lindarion asked Balamir and Amlaith as they wandered along a cobbled street, ignoring the curious stares of passers-by.

"Neither, actually," Amlaith answered. "My family own sheep. We supply the weavers and the tailors with wool and the butchers with meat. The land here is not good for farming, but excellent for sheep. Balamir’s family are merchants and have a store near the harbor."

"What sort of merchandise do you sell in your store, Balamir?" Olwë asked.

"Primarily general maritime supplies," the ellon answered. "You know, rope and sailcloth, nails and nets and the like. When my parents first came here, they were at a loss as to what to do, for my adar fought in the War of Wrath and knew no other life than being a warrior."

Everyone nodded in understanding.

Balamir continued. "At first, they and everyone else were occupied in constructing homes and building up the town. In the process, Adar discovered he had a knack for finding just the right tool or material that someone else needed and couldn’t find. In fact, he often traveled to Kortirion or even Avallónë to find what was needed. After a while he started to collect more supplies than what he originally set out to get, knowing that someone was going to need it later on and why make two trips?" He gave them a shrug. "The store just sort of grew from that. As Tavrobel became more settled and most of the industry centered on fishing and shipbuilding, Adar decided to limit his merchandise to maritime supplies rather than just any merchandise." He gave them a bright smile. "Adar would say that, even if there’s only one ship left in the harbor, we would still never run out of business."

The others chuckled at that.

"It sounds as if your adar found a new purpose for his life," Olwë commented. "Yet, from what Laurendil and Gilvagor have told us, many have not."

Amlaith nodded. "That’s certainly true of those who are recent arrivals," he said. "I’ve overheard some speak of a growing darkness in Ennorath though none can say what it portends. There seems to be a general unease among them. Adar says he remembers how it was when he first came here. He said he was constantly looking over his shoulders, as if in fear of something. It took him some time before he stopped doing so."

They pondered the ellon’s words as they continued toward the harbor. Of them all, only Beleg was unused to the sight of the bay and the ships that sailed upon it. He looked upon the bustle of activity with great interest. "I never saw the Sea when I was in Beleriand," he said to no one in particular. "Even when I was with Túrin we never ventured that far west. I still cannot get used to the smell." He wrinkled his nose and everyone laughed.

"Don’t worry, yonya," Olwë said as he gave the ellon a hug. "It’ll grow on you."

They came upon a square and Balamir gestured toward one particular building. "There’s our store," he said. "We live on the upper floor."

They paused for a moment to look about. The square was large with a fountain in the middle. Elflings of various ages played around it. The buildings surrounding the square appeared to be a mixture of shops and homes, and it was obvious that the shop owners lived above their stores. People moved serenely across the square, stopping to visit with their neighbors as they went about their business. Some noticed the new arrivals and there were a few frowns at the sight of them, but as Balamir led them across the square to his family’s shop, no one attempted to importune them. It was unlikely that any of the onlookers would know that two in their group were Amanian royalty, for Olwë and Lindarion were dressed simply in plain tunics and wore no jewelry save that each wore a single signet ring.

As they reached the store, they noticed that above the door lintel was a small anchor. It was the only sign that this place catered to those who were employed in maritime pursuits. Inside, they saw a shop with many free-standing shelves creating wide aisles and additional shelves along two walls. To their left was a long counter behind which stood an elleth, clearly Noldorin by her features. She was softly speaking to another elleth who was in the process of making a purchase. There were a couple of other customers ranging the aisles. When they came inside the two ellith looked up. The one behind the counter smiled broadly.

"Balamir! I didn’t expect you back so soon," she exclaimed. "Did the hunting not go well?"

"It went very well, Naneth," Balamir said with a laugh, "for see what we caught." He gestured to the Amanians standing a little uncertainly near the entrance.

Just then, an ellon, entered from a back room, carrying a wooden crate. "Back so soon?" he asked as he put the crate down on the counter and began to open it. The ellon’s locks were a shade too dark to be truly silver and it appeared that he was of mixed heritage. Olwë suspected that this was Balamir’s atar, a suspicion that proved true when Balamir began making introductions, now speaking Quenya.

"Atar, Ammë, these people come from Alqualondë," he said. "Well, except for Mithlas, who hails from Kortirion." Then he turned to Olwë. "This is my atar, Artohir, and my ammë, Galadhmíriel."

"Actually, it’s Aldamíriel," Balamir’s ammë said with a smile, "but I haven’t been able to convince them of it."

Olwë and the others bowed. "Mae govannen," the king said. "Garo ’lass min govaded vîn."

Balamir’s parents as well as the customers there stared at him in surprise. "Never did I think to hear anyone from there speak our language," an ellon said, jutting his chin in the direction of the mainland. "So, what are mainlanders doing here anyway?" His tone just bordered on the belligerent and he looked at them with some suspicion.

"Sîdh, Gellamion," Artohir said. He gave them his own bow, switching to Quenya. "Herunyar, alatulya Tavrossenna."

"Thank you," Olwë said. "May we look?" he asked, gesturing at the wares on the shelves.

Artohir nodded. "Please. Balamir will assist you if you have any questions."

Balamir gestured to them. "You might find what you’re looking for down this aisle," he said and led them to where ropes and such were stored. Beleg glanced about him with great interest and kept asking Amlaith what things were and what they were for. Amlaith, for his part, tried his best to answer the ellon, but confessed even he didn’t know what some of the items were or what their purpose was.

"Ask me about sheep and wool, and I’m the expert," he said with a wide smile, "but I know less than nothing about sailing."

Lindarion, overhearing them, snorted. "That’s a winch for raising the sails," he pointed to the object that had stumped the other two ellyn. "If you’re going to live in Alqualondë for any length of time, Beleg, you’d best start learning the... er... ropes." He cast them a grin and they both chuckled.

"The only thing I know about ropes," Beleg said with a glint of humor in his eyes, "is how to use one to set a trap for orcs."

Mithlas, who had wandered by and overheard their conversation snorted in amusement. Lindarion gave Beleg a look of mock disgust, shaking his head. "Your education is woefully lacking, Cousin. Come, let us find a nice piece of rope to buy and I will teach you all the different knots used in sailing."

Now Beleg gave him a scowl. "I barely kept my breakfast down crossing the bay yesterday. I don’t think I’m ever going to make a good sailor."

"Hmm..." Lindarion said, "I knew I had forgotten something. I meant to bring some ginger root for you as I remember how sick you were when Atto and I took you sailing. Sorry."

"Ginger root?" Beleg asked.

The haryon to Alqualondë nodded. "It’s quite effective against sea-sickness. Very often some shops will even sell ginger biscuits just for that purpose. I wonder if they have any here?"

"Well, while you and Beleg are looking over the ropes, I’ll go find out," Amlaith said. "I’ve only been in this shop a few times and mostly just to meet with Balamir so I don’t know what they actually sell here."

Lindarion nodded. "Come along, Cousin. Let us find some rope for you while Amlaith looks for the biscuits."

Lindarion steered a still reluctant Beleg away with Mithlas trailing them while Amlaith went to the counter to make enquiries.

Olwë meanwhile was wandering in another section of the shop, examining some sailcloth, Elennen walking discretely behind him. Balamir was with him. "So, are you an only child?" Olwë asked the younger ellon as he fingered some of the cloth, casting an expert eye over the merchandise.

"I have an older brother," Balamir answered, his voice soft, his expression wistful. "His name is Geliredhel. He... he died saving Atto’s life in the war. I never knew him, for I was born afterwards."

Olwë put down the bolt of cloth and placed an arm around the ellon’s shoulders and gave him a brief hug. "I’m sorry, hinya," he said softly. Deciding to change the subject, he pointed to the bolt of cloth he’d been fingering. "This weave is somewhat different from what we Teleri use for our sails."

Balamir brightened a bit, eager to show off his knowledge to this ancient Elf-lord. "It’s the same kind of cloth used by the Sindar who ply the seas," he explained. "I understand that Lord Círdan himself designed the weave."

"Interesting," Olwë said. "I remember Ciryatan, as he was known then." He gave Balamir a bright smile. "Even at Cuiviénen he was fascinated by the water and had even constructed some rude rafts. He and some others would take them out into the bay and try to fish." He chuckled at the memory. "More often than not they ended up falling off the rafts. Ciryatan and his folk became quite good swimmers very quickly."

Balamir laughed and Elennen smiled. "I’d forgotten about that," he said. "Ciryatan never stopped trying to improve on his designs, as I recall. Kept insisting there was a trick to making the rafts stable, but he never could figure it out and then we left."

Artohir, having finished with one of the other customers, came over to see how they were doing and gave them a warm smile. "You are interested in this cloth?" he asked.

Olwë nodded. "I would like to take some of it back with me and show it to those who make our sails. I think they would find it very interesting."

"Perhaps then we can come to some agreement," Artohir said. "How much would you like to take back with you?"

"And what will you do then, steal from our sailmakers and drive them out of business?"

They looked up to see Gellamion standing there looking belligerent. The blank look on Olwë’s face alerted Artohir and Balamir that the Teler had not understood the ellon’s rapid Sindarin. Elennen’s stance, however, stiffened, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He didn’t need to understand what was said to know a potential threat when he saw one. Balamir quickly translated for the two Teleri while Artohir spoke to Gellamion.

"That was uncalled for," he said heatedly. "These are guests and you should not accuse them of such a thing."

"They are mainlanders," Gellamion retorted with a sneer. "They cannot be trusted."

By now Lindarion, Beleg and Mithlas, hearing the raised voices, came to investigate. Lindarion held a slim piece of hithlain. Amlaith made his way to them as well, carrying a small carton.

"Atar, is anything amiss?" Lindarion asked, his expression wary.

Olwë sighed. "No, son, just more of the same." He turned to Artohir and gave the ellon a slight bow. "Forgive us if we have caused any trouble," he said. "It was not our intent. We’ll leave you now."

Balamir and Amlaith looked distraught. "But, my lord, you haven’t seen all of the shop," Balamir exclaimed, "and I was hoping you could join us for the noon meal. Please do not let Gellamion ruin things for you. He’s always grousing about something."

"Balamir!" Artohir said sharply. "Show some respect."

"Only when he does, Ada," the ellon retorted. "I don’t think it’s polite for someone to accuse the King of the Teleri of stealing."

There was a stunned silence. Artohir turned white, but Gellamion just became angrier. "King is he?" he sneered. "So now what? Have you come to lord it over us, your Majesty?" The way he spoke, it was obvious he meant the title as an insult.

Before anyone could respond to the ellon, Beleg was on him, casually grabbing him by the placket of his tunic and lifting him off the ground. "You do not have the right to speak thus, orchvann," he said coldly in Sindarin.

Olwë sighed and rolled his eyes. "Beleg, put him down."

Now both Artohir and Gellamion stared at the former Marchwarden in shock. "D-did you call him Beleg?" Artohir asked in an awed whisper.

Olwë gave another sigh. "Perhaps we should introduce ourselves," he said, looking rueful.

****

Ingwion stared about in curiosity as he and the others made their way inside the Blue Dolphin Inn. They had spent a pleasant morning wandering through the town with Gilvagor acting as a guide. He had watched the people of Tavrobel going about their business, barely noticing them as they made their way from one square to another, and saw that life here was not much different than it was in Vanyamar, save that Sindarin seemed to be spoken more often than Quenya. It had been an interesting tour and he was busy mentally cataloguing all that he had learned so he could tell his family when he returned to Vanyamar. Now, an hour past noon, they were looking to have a quiet meal. Gilvagor was gesturing towards a large table by one of the windows where they all took a seat.

"So this is where you met one of Lord Oromë’s People?" Ingwion asked Gilvagor.

The ellon nodded, pointing to another, smaller table, that was closer to the fireplace, unlit this time of year. "Right over there," he said. "He wasn’t all that helpful. Just told us to look for Sador in Kortirion." He flashed them all a wry smile. "I told him that Kortirion was rather large and could he be more specific."

"And was he?" Arafinwë asked in amusement.

"No. If anything he became more mysterious, telling us to wait for reinforcements without saying where they were coming from and when," Gilvagor answered with a rueful chuckle. "I really wanted to strangle him right then and there."  They all chuckled at that.

"I thought Finrod and the others would be here by now," Ingwion then said, but Arafinwë shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

"I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough," was all he said.

Just then, a young ellon came to take their orders. His eyes brightened at the sight of Gilvagor. "Mae govannen, hîr nîn," he said. "I am glad to see you again."

"As I am to see you, Margil," Gilvagor said with a smile. "These are some friends of mine from Aman, though Haldir here comes from Kortirion."

"Welcome to the Blue Dolphin, sirs," Margil said politely, switching effortlessly to Quenya, "and to Tol Eressëa. Glad I am that we are finally seeing more commerce with those of the mainland."

"We are pleased to be here, Margil," Arafinwë said with a gracious smile. "I believe my son and his anammë stayed here last year. They had nothing but praise for your kindness towards them while they were here."

"Not to mention your food," Gilvagor said with a laugh.

Margil gave them a puzzled look. "The lady and the young ellon who were with Lord Gilvagor?" he asked Arafinwë, "He is your son?"

"Adopted," Arafinwë said, "though no less loved than the children of my body."

"They hurt him," the ellon said, shaking his head in sorrow. "I couldn’t believe it when I heard what happened."

"I have been told that you were very helpful," Arafinwë said.

Margil just shrugged. "All I did was accompany the lady to the docks to wait for Lord Laurendil."

"It was enough, and I know Netilmírë appreciated it," Arafinwë said. "One of the reasons I decided to come here was to thank you and your family for all that you did."

"Let me go get Atto then," Margil said and he went away, only to return a few minutes later with another ellon who looked upon them with mild interest.

"Is there aught amiss, my lords?" he asked in Quenya. "My son said you wished to speak to me. I am Belegorn, proprietor of this inn. If there is anything amiss...."

"Nay, good Belegorn," Arafinwë said, raising his hand to forestall the ellon’s words. "I wished only to thank you and your family for the kindness you showed my son and his anamillë when they were here last year."

"Your son?" Belegorn asked, clearly puzzled.

"You remember, Atto," Margil interjected. "The young ellon who was kidnapped."

Belegorn’s eyes widened. "He is your son, lord? But he is Sindarin. How....?"

Arafinwë nodded. "Sador was given into my custody when he was released from Mandos as he apparently has no family living here on Tol Eressëa. He is now my ward," he said and then gestured towards a couple of empty chairs. "Please, join us. I am much desiring to speak with you and young Margil."

Belegorn glanced at Gilvagor, whom he apparently recognized. Gilvagor smiled. "Let me make the introductions," he said and as he gave the names of the members of his party father and son just stared at them in shock, barely able to acknowledge the greetings from the Amaneldi.

"Wh-why are you here, lord?" Belegorn finally managed to say, unconsciously wringing his hands in his distress.

"To speak to people like yourself, good Belegorn, about what you hope for yourself and your fellow Tol Eressëans," Arafinwë replied. "As the owner of this fine inn I have no doubt you hear many things and I would welcome your opinion, yours and your son’s."

For a moment, Belegorn just stood there, a bemused look on his face. Then, he nodded. "Margil, take these fine gentlemen’s orders and see that they have everything they need." He gave Arafinwë a bow. "My lord, if you will allow me to see to my other customers first, I will join you after you have eaten and we will talk."

"Thank you, Belegorn," Arafinwë said, smiling. "I... we appreciate it very much. We were expecting others to be here by now to join us for lunch, but they seemed to have been delayed, so I think we’ll just order now and hopefully they will be along presently." 

Belegorn nodded and left, giving his son a significant look as he did. Margil turned to their guests with a smile. "So, would you care to see a menu, lords, or perhaps you would prefer the luncheon special which is a freshly caught redfish lightly grilled in garlic butter and....."

****

Words are Sindarin unless otherwise noted.

Mae govannen. Garo ’lass min govaded vîn: ‘Well met. I have joy in our meeting’.

Sîdh: Peace.

Herunyar, alatulya Tavrossenna: (Quenya) ‘My lords, welcome to Tavrobel’. Alatulya is attested [see Parma Eldalamberon 17, ‘Eldarin Roots and Stems’ under PEN-].

Orchvann: Orc-food.