In this elven city Elendil felt utterly alone, adrift in an alien landscape. He looked out over lush gardens to a placid blue ocean, and recalled the roiling waters that had carried them from home into the unknown, the pealing thunder, the lightning bright enough to blind a man. Far away it seemed now, almost unreal...

A footfall behind made him turn. His hosts were quite unlike the elven folk he had known from Tol Eressëa, more – tempered, although pleasant enough. This elf was tall and well built, with a typically old-young face. Self-assured. He strode forward, hand extended in the greeting Elendil was learning to expect. He offered his hand in return, and wrists were clasped briefly, first above, then below. 

“Ereinion Gil-galad, king of this land. You’ve rested?” The king’s voice was briskly friendly, accustomed to command. Elendil nodded, but had no time to respond. “Good, good. I’ve sent supplies to your people – you’ll want them to stay near the ships for now, till we find them somewhere to settle. Now…”

Elendil plunged in. “My gratitude for your hospitality, lord, but my ships are in need of repairs and I came to beg loan of a vessel to travel down the coast to seek the rest of my party… My sons…”

A quick smile, infinitely charming. “The Avari already sent word of strange ships landing far to the south. Your sons will be safe enough, your people have had strongholds there for centuries.” Light blue eyes met his thoughtfully. “But now…” He rested a hand on Elendil’s shoulder, gestured to where chairs were being set. “They tell me your name is Elendil and you can explain why the sea has grown strange. Come join me in a cup of wine, and share your news out of the West.”