Elros sat in the great hall, the low fire casting flickering shadows against the stone walls. His gaze drifted to the girl tied securely to the bed. She hadn't stirred since the struggle earlier, her breathing steady but shallow. The bandages on her face and body were stained with dried blood, a stark reminder of her ordeal.
He had waited for over an hour, hoping she might wake and provide some answers. But as time stretched on, impatience and curiosity gnawed at him.
Rising from his seat, Elros adjusted the ties binding the girl. He tested the knots carefully, ensuring she wouldn't escape while he was gone. Her wrists and ankles were bound snugly but not cruelly. He made sure she could move enough to stay comfortable but not free herself.
Before leaving, he retrieved all his weapons. Aranrúth hung securely at his side, its blade gleaming even in the dim light. Dramborleg rested across his back, and he took his fishing spear as well—a habit borne of pragmatism. The weight of the weapons was a familiar comfort as he stepped out of the hall and into the crisp morning air.
The walk to the beach was uneventful, the only sound coming from the crunch of sand beneath his boots and the distant cawing of seabirds. When he arrived, the sight of the battle greeted him like an old wound reopened.
The corpses of the raiders lay sprawled where they had fallen, their bodies bloating under the harsh sun. Flies buzzed in thick clouds, and the stench of death was overwhelming. Elros forced himself to breathe through his mouth as he surveyed the scene, stepping carefully among the carnage.
His eyes moved to the longship that had brought them here. It had drifted from the shore, likely pulled by the tide, but it wasn't far. The dark hull bobbed gently on the water, its ornate dragon-shaped prow still watching over the waves like a sentinel.
Elros weighed his options. Swimming wasn't a problem; Númenóreans were strong swimmers, and his body was well-conditioned from years of training and battle. He shrugged off his cloak and placed it neatly on a rock, then waded into the water.
The chill was bracing, and the weight of his armor slowed him, but he moved steadily, his strokes powerful and precise. Within minutes, he reached the side of the longship and gripped the rough wood of the hull. With a grunt, he pulled himself aboard, water streaming off him as he stood on the deck.
The ship's interior was as grim as the beach. Blood stained the wooden planks, and the remains of the raiders' supplies were scattered about: broken weapons, torn nets, and barrels of spoiled provisions.
Elros began his search methodically. He moved from bow to stern, his sharp eyes scanning every corner. Near the ship's mast, he found two banners carefully rolled and tied with twine.
The first bore the image of a green lobster on a white field, its claws clutching a black harpoon. Elros studied it for a moment, the symbol unfamiliar to him. He placed it aside and unrolled the second banner.
This one featured a grey wolf on a white background, its eyes fierce and its stance proud. He rolled both banners up and tucked them under his arm, determined to examine them further later.
As he moved to leave the ship, his foot caught on something solid beneath a pile of cloth. Kneeling, he pushed the fabric aside and uncovered a small chest.
It was beautifully crafted, its surface adorned with intricate carvings of waves and sea creatures. The wood was dark and polished, the metal bindings shining faintly in the sunlight. The chest was locked, the clasp engraved with a swirling design that seemed to shimmer as Elros looked closer.
His curiosity deepened. Whatever was inside, it was valuable enough for these raiders to guard it carefully. He hefted the chest under one arm, its weight solid but manageable, and made his way back to the ship's edge.
He glanced at the beach, the distant shape of the great hall visible over the treetops. For the first time since his arrival on this isle, Elros felt the stirrings of something larger at play—a mystery that went beyond his solitude.
With the chest in hand and the banners secured, he dove back into the water and began the swim back to shore.