A century had passed - or so it seemed to Plinnlim. And then things happened almost in the blink of an eye. Hope came back, hope that she had given up on a long time ago. Something she would never do again. If she had learned one thing from all this misery, then it was to never give up hope.
It had all started with hîr Mirdoron being brought back into the cell next to hers. To see his friendly face again meant so much to her. And more so the whispered conversations they could now resume. And then, one even luckier day, she got one of the jailors into an argument. While there were usually two or more of them, this time, it was only one, and he was stupid enough to get angry when she promised him to kill him as soon as she would get out. He did let her out in his rage - only to kill her, of course - and the next thing she did was keeping her promise by sneaking the knives out of his hands before he even got a good grip on them, and turning them against their former owner with the speed only an elf could master.
She grabbed his other weapons - even a bow! - and turned to free hîr Mirdoron as well, but he just yelled at her to run as other goblin guards were approaching already. This time, she listened to him, and followed by an ever growing number of goblins she ran through the maze of corridors for what seemed like two or three hours to her, until she saw broad daylight again. But there, outside in the blinding snow, she found herself surrounded by so many goblins that she thought she would never make it. She faced them, whirling her blades around, shooting the strange goblin arrows as fast as she could, but when one goblin fell two more seemed to arrive.
But luck was finally on her side. Another warrior appeared out of nowhere, judging from his light and fast movements, another elf, and without asking or saying anything he joined her fight. Together they were victorious. About two dozen dead goblins lay in the snow, and the others fled back into their dungeons, cursing and screaming. She was free at last! Hîr Elearion, as he introduced himself, accompanied her almost as far as Vindurhal, and on the way there they shared their stories. As hîr Elearion was to stay in Imladris for a while, they would surely meet again.
Back in Vindurhal, her foster family was overwhelmed with happiness to have her back. Even the dwarrows were not ashamed to shed rivers of tears. And a surprise was waiting for Plinnlim. Two more ladies had come to live here, together with a fourth dwarf, Borri, who had brought them there. He was the new stable master of Vindurhal, and he and his two pretty mares became friends with Plinnlim in no time.
Nogmeldir wrote a long letter to hîr Elrond and asked Plinnlim to deliver it as soon as possible - not without second thoughts. After the months she had spend as a captive of the goblins, Plinnlim did not only need to get out of the icy cold of Vindurhal. She also needed a trained healer to take care of her, and the peace and music that could be found in the Vale.
The first one Plinnlim encountered on her way up to the Last Homely House was no other than hîr Khalis. He listened to her reports in detail and inculcated on her to never ever go out into such danger on her own again and to turn to the Warband for help, should she ever find herself in such a situation in future.
But as both were on an errand, they parted soon and Plinnlim went to see hîr Elrond, as promised, and handed him the letter. He sent her to see a healer immediately who gave her a guest room in the House of Elrond and talked to her for hours.
In the evening, she joined the others in the Hall of Fire. At first, all seemed so unreal to her - the warmth of the Hall, the lovely music, the peaceful atmosphere - but then hiril Mirineth entered, and Plinnlim somehow found the thread she had lost while sitting in the dark goblin dungeons. To her own surprise, she was dancing again, and this night she slept wonderfully and without nightmares for the first time in ages.
The Hall of Fire was nearly empty on the next night, except for one lonely harp player who turned out to be hîr Elearion, the very one who had saved her life up in the Misty Mountains. They talked and he played many beautiful songs for her, until the goodbye came with the first morning light. Plinnlim was left alone, and while she was feeling warm and safe again, she started to think about how hîr Mirdoron could be freed. She whispered to herself and to him: "Do not give up hope. Never. There is always a new dawn."
