faderift | I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world...

WHO: Elros and Maglor and you
WHAT: Elros' Sea-Longing is getting worse since he can't put out with the fishing boats in the winter. So he's building a boat, instead. What? This makes perfect sense.
WHEN: Most of the rest of winter
WHERE: a quiet spot in the harbor
NOTES: probably none!

He is no Cirdan, but the Shipwright wasn't about to send the Edain off in boats they did not know, so since War of Wrath ended, Elros put aside the soldiers life to work alongside his men in the shipyards of the Falathrim, learning to build their own ships as well how to sail them.

And then he came here.

He has wheedled and charmed the local sailors, worked passage on the fishing boats in good weather enough to be able to claim this small dark corner and provisions enough to start... well. Not a ship. Little better than a raft, in truth. But the Falathrim knew their business, and taught Elros well, who has the blood of mariners in his veins.

Come and find him splitting wood or planning the planks smooth, or perhaps working on the design in the early days. Since he can't afford iron nails, he's using mortise and tenon joints, and slowly over the weeks the little boat begins to take shape. He'll chat to anyone who comes by, and is happy to accept help, or just company. Come late enough in the business and you might smell the tar he's mixing for the caulking. Or maybe you've got some idea where he can buy or work for more materials?

Closed to Maglor

His foster fathers are idiots, but Elros has considered the tales told, and the things not said, and reached a conclusion - Maglor needs to learn how to build a boat of his own. Since Maglor has taken to watching him as if he is going to vanish, this serves two purposes quite nicely.

"See, the joint needs to be tight, so!"

EDIT: Elros is also afflicted with the Blue Cold - feel free to catch him here with that in place

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That startles a laugh out of Galadriel; the sound is surprised and delighted and she pauses as she reaches for the planer to laugh a moment. She is exhausted and the motion tugs at sore muscles, but it is too funny to restrain herself. She laughs a moment and then shakes her head.

"I am glad to have answered that for you," Galadriel replies and wipes at a tear that has slid down her cheek.

He smiles, delighted to have gotten a laugh, and hugs her impulsively.

"So am I! I can tell Elrond that the next time I write to him. Thank you for the bow! You'll have to help me name it now."

The hug she does not expect and she freezes as he gives it to her. She is sticky, covered in sweat, and clad in rough mortal clothing. She is not an appealing target for touch, not even at her best, but here he is. At once the warmth of his arms and the steadiness of him reminds her of how very long it has been since she has touched another person, even in passing.

She hugs him back but it is an awkward motion.

"Name it?" she repeats after a moment and stares at him incredulously. "It is no masterwork, do not bother with such things."

Elros likes hugs. Clearly, if all his relatives are going to react like this, he has to hug them more often.

"You made it for me." He says loyally. "And you strung it with your own hair - I had a mostly Noldorin education, you know. I know what sort of significance that means!"

Galadriel has no rejoinder for that, it was impulse but not something she would have refused him. Elros has no darkness in his heart; his ambition is not to be feared or rejected. Galadriel leans back and looks down at him.

"Very well," she acquiesces after a beat. "What would you call it?"

He eyes the bow thoughtfully, the feckless young man fading to a someone more serious.

"It is my first gift, here." He muses.

"Perhaps...Herianna, Lady's Gift?"

It is fitting and, for all she objects to the idea of naming it, there are precious few weapons with so amusing a name. The idea that the Lady's Gift fires arrows is...frankly rather delightful.

"An amusing name, and somewhat poignant, I like it," she says and pulls away from him (with some reluctance but an understanding of how long they have embraced). "Tbis truly cannot be the first gift you have recieved in Thedas, can it?"

"Most definitely my first gift." He grins at her.

"I promise I'll take good care of her."

"I would rather she take care of you, gwanur nin," Galadriel says and reaches up to brush some of his hair back from his face. Her smile is tender, then, laced with her amusement and the air of the moment. The contact is fleeting and deeply personal, however, and she withdraws from it after a moment.

"Let us build your boats."

Despite the fever sheen in his own eyes, the clear joy and affection at her tenderness is clear, Elros butting briefly against her hand in affection.

"I'm sure she will be perfect, for you made her."

He nods, bouncing excitedly to his feet.

"Yes! I'm about to try and start the hull, I think I've enough pieces." More than enough, possibly.

"Can I assist, or will I be merely in the way?" Galadriel asks, sincerely. She can always return to her running, else she can hold and join and hammer any pieces that need to be fitted into one another.

"Definitely could use the help."

He smiles and walks over to where he has a small timber frame already taking place.

"I've managed to get this far, but an extra set of hands always makes the job easier!"

I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world...

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