Note: Originally posted for the fanfic100 challenge on Livejournal, on the character Eärendil. For more, please visit my LJ (link at author profile).

Everything belongs to Professor Tolkien.

Dolphins of Gondolin

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It's been an age and half, and he still looks for it every time.

Clear conditions over Belegaer tonight. The world lies becalmed, all silver ripples and azure dreams, and the tide no more than a gentle deep breath upon the bent belly of the ocean. Silence crystallizes upon the autumn air.

He has left the coastline behind hours ago; there are no marks upon the waters. So tonight, same as every night, he glances to the stars for relative position, estimates the distance from land. He scans the dappled patterns of blue beneath the prow--there, that spot right there, for a moment it catches the light, stands out in brightness. Is it a shallow spot? And is that glint a revelation of something pale and vast beneath?

The sails slacken. With a touch upon the wheel, he lowers the ship, drawing nearer to the luminous surface. A splash, no larger than an ephemeral white speck from this distance. An almost invisible arc flickers above the waves, then another, then several more, then dozens.

Far below, the flock of dolphins frolics on, and he gazes down, the tendril of a smile at last reaching the corner of his mouth. The sight of his eyes cannot penetrate the depths, yet he wonders if perhaps this time, he has caught a glimpse of it after all. The dolphins are dancing among the carved towers of his childhood, and snowy peaks that once have encircled Gondolin.