Olwë barely waited for the last words to leave the excited ellon's mouth before he was racing to the stairs of the tower that bore his name, leaving his breakfast, uneaten, on the table in the family dining room. Lirillë, Eärwen, and his daughters-in-law were close on his heels. 

"Can you see them, Atto? Look!" Earwen cried, leaning over the sill of the east facing window. 

Olwë caught her around the waist, drawing her back to safety as the others crowded around him. He squinted past the glare of the sun, and began to count masts. How many would come back? Lord Manwë had decreed that none of the Teleri were to fight, but accidents happened. Even in the best of times, Ossë would lose his temper and the ships would suffer for it, losing crew members to the hungry waves and wind. 

The gulls in the harbour suddenly were aloft, racing towards the approaching fleet; only to scatter as an immense eagle flew out of the sun straight towards Alqualondë, calling out, "Rejoice and be glad, for the Hosts are victorious, and the winds bring home those for whom you have long waited!"

Olwë pulled Lirillë closer to his side, giving her a joyful kiss, then resumed counting the returning ships.