#here goes aeargail I guess

[seaside-wanderer]

Not every Elf knows another, that's for sure. However, some Elves are so adept at flying under the radars, or keeping to themselves, or just being a regular of their kind when compared to their more reckless kin, that no one ever heard of them.

Aeargail, or Arátya Alcariénen, is one of these. Some say he just came into being out of thin air, others that he's the heir of a certain High King... The truth is, most often, boring. He is just an Elf. He performed some great deeds in ages past, but virtually everyone did at some point.

Born in First Age 454 in Nargothrond, right before the Battle of Sudden Flames, some speculate he is the twin of Ereinion Gil-galad; his hair is, however, golden, though still betrays his ties with the House Of Finarfin. The speculation of a noble descendance was enough to get him, too, to safety under Círdan the Shipwright in the Havens of the Falas. His love for wandering brought him, still a child, in Gondolin, through that same path that Húrin would follow some years later. There, he abided by the rules of the White City, and he was taken under the wing of High King Turgon and adopted into the House of Fingolfin.

He fought in the Battle of Unnumbered Tears in FA 472 as a Gondolindrim and watched his city burn. He fought again in the War of Wrath at Finarfin's command, saw the fall of the Thangorodrim in the distance, breathed a sigh of relief at the slaying of Ancalagon the Black, and once again followed Círdan, this time in Lindon, all that remained of his beloved Beleriand. He fought at the Battle of Dagorlad in Second Age 3434 and was terribly wounded, but got out alive, rescued by Lord Elrond of Imladris, and then had to take a very long rest to fully heal. Recovered, he woke up an Age and almost three millennia later, ready to fight again in the Siege of Barad-dûr, only to discover all his friends were long dead, including Gil-galad.

His life outside of the battlefield is a blur. Living so long does that.

From time to time he finds himself longing for his companions, fallen in the War or in this or that Battle, knowing very well that his time has not come yet. He has so much to do. So much to tell the world. So, in these moments, he starts singing: songs of the sea, of his lost friends, of the tales of the Noldor and the Teleri, and the Vanyar, and his Houses, and sometimes raises a glass to his brother and king.

He comes and goes as he pleases, never lingering in a place too long. He remains unmarried and generally un-partnered, preferring a life at sea instead, the Unquiet of Ulmo accompanying him since birth. If he stops anywhere at all, he holds Imladris dear, and will often look for his companion Glorfindel and manage to get a few words about Gondolin out of him. If his friend becomes sorrowful after, he will offer him a drink and a shanty while admiring the beauty of the valley at dusk.

When the sun sets and the sky goes a pale orange, he watches his reflection in the waters of the Bruinen, and sees so much of Finarfin in the way his hair flare golden. And when it gets dark, and all around him is bathed in moonlight and the star of Eärendil is right above him, a few threads of silver here and there are the telltale sign of his undying kinship with Turgon and the House of Fingolfin, and he can't help but stare at the statue of Gil-galad right in front of Elrond's house, and will be gone by dusk.