"I need to know if anyone by the name of Bainith has booked passage on a ship."
The lithe Logistics Clerk peered down from the tall counter where he sat perched upon a stool. Elegant fingers opened a well-worn travel log and slid down the page with a slow caress. "Even if I knew, I should really not tell you. It is bad enough that hobbits nose into the business of others, no need for an Elf to--"
"I am his guardian," interrupted Zhie, exhibiting all the patience of a rabbit in springtime. "The person in question is but forty-eight years, and apprenticed to me. Well, nearly forty-nine, but not for another week. An Elfling, all the same."
"An Elfling? A youngling, more than that. Either way, I have not heard of many born in the last century," replied the clerk incredulously.
"A rarity, yes, but I assure you it is fact. Much too young to think that running away and sailing is an answer to his troubles."
The clerk looked back to the book and shook his head. "No, no one named Bainith."
"Thank you for checking." Zhie almost walked away, but then looked up again and asked, "What about the name Baynor?"
"Baynor? Sounds like a Dwarf."
"Shireling name, actually. Would you please check that for me?"
Again the clerk slid his finger down the page, and shook his head. "Nothing of the sort."
Zhie nodded and began to leave. Perhaps it was just an immediate reaction, and she would find him hiding on of the islands off the coast of Duillond, where he oft liked to retreat to.
"A moment, miss... I may have found an alias."
With a sharp turn upon her heel, she was back at the counter. "Yes? What is it?"
"An entry for someone listed as being thirty-eight. Not a Bainith or a Baynor, though. But it does strike me odd. Traveling alone, from the looks of it."
"Ah, Bainith Proudfoot, still playing that game," mumbled Zhie to herself, recalling the lie he had keep for many years, to make Yucca believe they were the same age. "Yes, that is probably him. What is the name?"
"Talfello. Strange name for an Elfling."
Zhie craned her neck to see the entry, and immediately recognized the handwriting where his name was signed. "That is him alright. Do not let him on the ship."
"Madame! I can hardly cause someone against their will--"
"Do you have a Valanyonnen on any of your logs?"
The clerk looked down for a moment, then back up. "Another charge of yours?"
"No, but if Culgondrian is there for any strange reason... actually..." Zhie untied a pouch filled with silver coins and placed it upon the counter. "If any of those three should try to board, stop them." She pushed the sack towards him, but the clerk pushed it back.
"While I will question this Tallfello lad should he attempt to sail, anyone else is free to do as they choose."
"Not Culgondrian. She is my daughter. I doubt she will, but she is close to Bainith, and I do not want to take the chance."
"There is no one by that name here," declared the clerk, "but I shall watch for her all the same. Without need of payment," he added as he picked up the pouch and handed it back to Zhie. "Now, I do have others in line."
Zhie wandered away from the counter and sat down on the Shore, watching the tall ships bob up and down, their swan necks gleaming white in the sunshine. She barely heard someone approach, but knew she was joined as the shadow passed her view, and then the owner sat down beside her.
"Harassing people at the docks again? I thought you gave that up for academic pursuits."
For a while, neither said more, for there were too many people passing by. When the last sailor left the area, Zhie said, "I need a success. I am tired of failing at all but making dyes and befriending animals."
"You do know there is a curse following us around, right?" A nudge at her shoulder made her shrug. "It might just be our own lack of confidence, but there is something that just brings us disasters."
"So... you think I need to stop taking on apprentices?"
"I think you need to step back a little and get involved less. Remember -- that was why we all left in the first place. Meddling Valar, a desire for more freedom... be there to guide them, but let them fall sometimes." The Elf drew the hood of his cloak back just slightly, letting the sun shine upon his face, and highlight a few errant red strands in his dark brown mane. "If they stumble, they will pick themselves up. If you protect them too closely, they will still tumble at some point when you are not there, but it may be too far."
Zhie ran a hand through her hair, moving the straying wisps from her face. "Logical, of course, but difficult for me to agree. I handled all of you at one point, and--"
"And that was a mistake. A good thing father recognized that and brought on Erestor to the staff to take care of Celegorm. While you never ended up on the roof without a stitch of clothing like any of the previous governesses, or in the pond unexpectedly, or finding yourself lacking all of your shoes, or whatever it was that Celegorm thought would be funny that day, I am fairly certain he managed to rattle you a few times all the same."
"Celegorm was a special child," she said ruefully. "The trouble with disciplining him was that he enjoyed it far too much coming from me."
"Oh, certainly. Which is why father had to find someone suitable to deal with him. And even then..." The cloaked Elf shook his head. "Well, we both know how that went."
"Is this your way of saying that Bainith needs a different mentor?"
Slowly a bobbing of the head turned into a full-fledged nod. "Soon, if possible. From what you have told me, he is very smart, but he is also very emotional. He also lacks focus about certain things. While your eclectic and unusual teaching methods often worked well for Maedhros and I, they were not suitable for Celegorm. I am not saying he needs someone like Erestor, but he needs someone other than you."
Over the next few minutes she dwelled upon this, first angry that one of her former charges would dare make such claims and suggestions, but then slowly accepting of the fact that maybe, just maybe, he was right. "If only he were a minstrel; I would send him to you."
"I have had no apprentices for a long while," he said sadly. "I do know of a pair of brothers who would likely take Bainith as an apprentice. You may know them -- Biarn spends much time in Bree, while his elder brother Borin lives in the north. Biarn is a very friendly fellow, very kindly. I would suggest you introduce Bainith to him first, and then take him to Borin. Borin is harsh, and quick-tempered when someone does not follow his instruction on the craft, but he gives praise when it is due."
"I still need to find him first."
A look of concern flashed in the eyes of the other Elf. "He is missing? What, again?"
"Yes. That is why I am here; I need to find him before he sails. He is making a mistake." She retold the tale, or what she knew of it, to her former charge, and he listened intently to everything.
Once finished, he pulled his hood back over his head, scarred hands catching for a moment on the fabric. "I will watch for him, and the others. The shore is my dwelling, after all. Send word if you find them before me."
"Thank you. I will be in touch." They departed with the customary bow, and a brief longing look over the vast expanse of water beyond, to the ever-present sound of gulls ringing in their ears despite the lack of birds on the beach or in the sky.
