b2mem | Papa was a Rolling Wave, by Kaylee Arafinwiel (Reply)

B2MeM Prompt, Card and Number: O75, Adjectival ABC, Beasts, Emotions, Emotions 2, Occupations, Poetic Forms, Smells, A Song and a Story, Talents and Skills, Third Age Locations
Format: poem, ficlet
Genre: family
Rating: PG
Warnings: parental abandonment
Characters: Zamin, Ancalime, Aldarion, Erendis
Pairings: Aldarion/Erendis (separated)
Creator’s Notes (optional): I read the story of Aldarion and Erendis here: http://depts.washington.edu/uwch/documents/articles/Aldarion%20and%20Erendis.PDF in case you're unfamiliar. I'm not sure "rolling stone" is quite the right term for Aldarion, so I took some liberties with it for my story title.
Summary: With the King's Heir gone from Numenor these three years, the folk of Erendis' household worry for their lady and her daughter - Aldarion's own heir.

"Yon bees that buzz amongst the sheep,

The golden flock of Emerië!

Our chandler from them takes her keep.

The bees that buzz amongst the sheep

Lull my princess in sweet sleep,

Fair one, my little Ancalimë, o’er thee,

Fly bees that buzz amongst the sheep,

The golden flock of Emerië."

Such was the verse that Zamîn sang as she worked zealously about the dairy, while the child Ancalimë indeed slept sweetly among the soft grasses and wildflowers. Naught was heard of music in the house of Erendis, save for that her women sang at their work, and the elderly Zamîn thought that was a shame.

The princess should know the joy of song accompanied, of instruments played well, for all there were no men to do so. She should know the presence of men, Zamîn thought, shaking her head; above all, the child ought to know her own father. But who was to say where Anardil had gone this time? Anardil, the Lord Aldarion, had been gone these three years, and his only heir had reached her seventh year without knowing her father. Zamîn did her best to calm her temper as she worked the dasher up and down; butter churned in anger was butter spoiled, and she took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of curing cheeses as she mulled over possible answers.

Perhaps, as it was rumoured, the Lord Aldarion had sought the Grey Havens and was tarrying with the Elves. It would be far from the first time; Zamîn knew the Lady Erendis had a jealousy of the Eldar and of the Sea, fearing they had stolen her husband from her. Who knew, then, when he might return?

Oh, what could Zamîn do to heal the bereft child’s heart? Erendis, she knew, had tried to conceal from Ancalimë what she was missing by simply barring men from the house. Unfortunately an errand-boy had spoken to them outside yestermorn of Lord Aldarion. So it was that plan had come to naught. Yestereve Erendis had made her position on Aldarion clear, and Ancalimë had fallen silent, refusing to speak. Now she slept the summer’s day away.

“Wherever you may be, lord,” Zamîn whispered, “may the Valar bear you safely home to port ere long. The Lady Erendis may have cooled toward you, but your daughter needs you. Come. Come soon, Valar willing.”