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Autumn's End	By : Cee Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 848 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 2

The Mainland
The following morning dawned bright and crisp. Birds swooped down from their nests to pluck silvery, shimmering fish from the cerulean waters. The sun sparkled on each wave, giving the illusion that the sea was made of a thousand sparkling gems. The Harbor was bustling with life as several elves hurried from the stack of crates waiting on the dock to the boats, preparing to leave for the mainland. The morning was charged with an air of expectancy, for this journey to the fishing village across the waters was, in the minds of the inhabitants of Cirana, the first step towards the festivities awaiting them with the changing of the Harbor Masters.
On the shore, Varyar stood with his mother watching the activity on the docks. The night before he had enjoyed a small celebration with his family and closest friend. It was then that the reality of his promotion had finally begun to sink in, and though he knew that he had enough training, there was a part of him that was anxious. Maratar had been an exemplary Harbor Master, the pressures of living up to such a legacy were beginning to make their weight known.
"All will be fine." his mother, Dariena, said serenely, looking at her son's face. "Cirdani would not have allowed you take the position if he did not have faith in you."
Varyar sighed as the last of the crates and trunks were loaded onto the boats. He looked down at his petite mother. She had been so strong through the years, raising her sometimes boisterous son without the aid of a husband. His attentions were directed back at the dock, as a young warden began to make his way towards them. The time had come for departure.
"Is there anything you would like me to bring back for you?" He asked, hoisting his pack. "Perhaps some of that fabric you are so fond of making cloaks out of?"
"Only if you have time to search for baubles for your tired mother," she replied, embracing him. "Now go, or your mentor is likely to change is mind about who will be taking over for him."
Varyar turned, following his mother's gaze to where Maratar stood, looking obviously agitated. "Then I will see you in a few week's time. Tell, Nienna I bid her farewell."

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The short journey to the mainland seemed to pass quickly, and by midday they had unloaded their supplies, as well as found lodgings for their short stay. Varyar, enjoyed his visits to the small town on the shore. He found the humans to be fascinating. They lived such fast paced, busy lives. To them everything was in the present. For the elves, things moved more slowly, often resolving themselves. At times Varyar found the change in pace to be refreshing.
The elves made their way from the inn to the bustling street market. The streets were filled with the sounds, sights and smells of the merchants. From one stand, a short man with a rounded belly and balding head shouted out, "Fish! Fresh fish!" His gravelly voice carrying to every corner of the marketplace. On either side, one could find carts and tents loaded with fruits and vegetables of every kind imaginable; their vendors shouting out the superiority of their wares. One could even find booths containing flowers and fabric.
On seeing one of these, Varyar excused himself from his companions and hurried over, intent on bringing back a gift for Dariena. As he was trying to decide whether she would prefer a scarlet swatch or dark blue, lively music filled the air. Varyar looked up, searching for the source of the music. Peering over the head of the fabric vendor, he scanned the crowd, his gaze suddenly resting on a young woman in a brightly colored blouse and skirt. She was dancing on the rim of the fountain in the midst of the town square. Her dark curls and filmy skirt fanning out around her as she spun and twirled to the lively beat.
"Are you going to buy anything or not," the woman selling fabrics grumbled.
Varyar inhaled sharply, having forgotten his original intent of buying a gift to take home. "I, uh, yes. The blue." Absently, he handed a few coins to the woman, before beginning to pick his way through the crowds, hoping to get a closer look at the dancer. Unfortunately, before he was able to make his way to the fountain, he ran into Maratar, who also seemed to be watching the performance.
"I'm surprised they're allowed in here," the Harbor Master commented.
"Why?" Varyar's eyes still lingered on the dancing girl. "Surely they have as much right to me here as anyone else."
Maratar grunted. "Tell that to the villagers. They don't enjoy sharing the town with the wandering folk."
As if in response to Maratar's statement, a tomato flew past the dancer's face, just missing her cheek. She stopped her seductive dance and glared at the man who had lobbed the rotten fruit at her. With a frown she knelt down and picked up the tomato, tossing back into the faces of the townsfolk. This only enraged them further. They started to shout, and two of the bigger more brutish men began to stalk towards her.
Varyar started forward, intent on stopping what was sure to be a pathetically mismatched fight, but before he could reach the fountain, he felt a hand grab his arm.
"Don't get involved." Maratar stared hard at him. "These fights are common."
"She is completely outnumbered!" Varyar shouted, shaking off his mentor. He ignored Maratar's protests as he shoved his way through the angry mob to the fountain, where the girl was now shouting angrily at her approaching attackers, as she dodged them nimbly, jumping off the stone fountain and trying to break through the crowds.
Her defiance only egged the men on more, and despite her efforts to evade them, they soon had her surrounded. One of the men, a burly, filthy fellow, managed to grab hold of her from behind. Varyar quickened his pace, and with a great push, forced himself through the circle of shouting spectators.
For a moment, the man holding the girl stared at him in surprise. In his distraction, the young woman stomped firmly on his foot and wriggled from his grasp, as he bellowed in pain. The crowds drew in again, blocking off any chance of escape. Varyar reached out and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her behind him as the man recovered and charged forward.
"Stay out of this elf," he shouted angrily! "Such filth is not worthy of protecting."
"Since when is it honorable for a man to attack a woman, nearly half his size?" Varyar shouted back. "Now stand down, I've no wish to hurt you." With these words, his hand strayed warningly to the hilt of his sword.
The man glanced at the sword, silent for a moment, weighing his chances against a trained elvish warrior. Apparently deciding that his quarry was not worth possible death, he shrugged. "Very well, have your way with her. But be sure to wash when you're through."
Varyar's eyes narrowed with anger, and he began to draw his sword. Such speech in the presence of a lady would never be permitted on Cirana, and he felt his honor would not allow it to persist here.
"I appreciate your valor, master elf, but I can't allow you to continue this battle for my sake."
Varyar stopped and turned to her, surprised by the tone of her voice.
"I thank you for what you have done thus far, but if you harm him, it will only make things worse for me when you have left," she continued, not giving him the chance to respond. She turned her gaze to the angry people watching. "I should go."
Without another word, she stood on the tip of her toes and kissed his cheek. "I am Alamathea, and you have the thanks of my people." Then she turned and was lost in the throng of people, none of whom would lay a hand on her as long as the stern elf watched.
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Autumn's End