A/N:  Inspired by this quote from THE SILMARILLION:  Thus led by Tuor son of Huor the remnant of Gondolin passed over the mountains, and came down into the Vale of Sirion; and fleeing southward by weary and dangerous marches they came at length to Nan-tathren, the Land of Willows, for the power of Ulmo yet ran in the great river, and it was about them. There they rested a while, and were healed of their hurts and weariness; but their sorrow could not be healed. And they made a feast in memory of Gondolin and of the Elves that had perished there, the maidens, and the wives, and the warriors of the King; and for Glorfindel the beloved many were the songs they sang, under the willows of Nan-tathren in the waning of the year. There Tuor made a song for Eärendil his son, concerning the coming of Ulmo the Lord of Waters to the shores of Nevrast aforetime; and the sea-longing woke in his heart, and in his son's also. Therefore Idril and Tuor departed from Nan-tathren, and went southwards down the river to the sea; and they dwelt there by the mouths of Sirion, and joined their people to the company of Elwing Dior's daughter, that had fled thither but a little while before. (Chapter 23, Of Tuor and the Fall of Gondolin)

Bedtime

(exactly 100 words)

The gates to the Havens opened before the band of refugees, welcoming those who fled from lost Gondolin.  Eärendil, head nodding with exhaustion, leaned against his father's shoulder as they passed within the walls.  "Atto, is it much further?" he asked sleepily.

"Not far," Tuor told him, heading for the guesthouse the gate warden had pointed out.

"Good." Eärendil yawned.  "I want to say hello to the sea and Lord Ulmo."

"Time enough for that in the morning," Idril told him firmly. "Go back to sleep."

Tucked into a real bed, the sound of waves for a lullaby, Eärendil did.