Second Age; year 1716…
‘…I expect highly of you to make your own passage over the Hithaeglir. It is always me that must take the journey to “your forest”! Why must I always be the one to freeze my hair off?’
“Mm…it is good for you; are you not the one part of Imladris’ guard?” Undómion read on in quiet amusement, ignoring a couple of hawks sitting on his head and shoulders.
‘…when was the last time you have seen your own kindred? Surely being among the Sindar and Silvan so much must be driving you mad; I know I would be tired of it quickly.’
“Only you would.”
The rest of the message was not much else interesting to note. Undómion knew Aridhor’s handwriting as if he was there in person. The wording may seem hard and rough, though Aridhor was always one to jest and make a fool of himself (though he would deny it), and to find things humorous in practically everything. Undómion shook all the hawks off his person, and wandered over to the ledge of his own Talan. During the years he had been here, he had his own flet built. After careful observation of the Mellyrn hawks, Undómion learned their calls and sounds, mimicking them as best he could. Their white and grey feathers reminded him of the spectacular birds back in Valinor. Starting with two hawks, he managed to breed a fair number of them; his Talan had practically become a bird sanctuary; though it was relatively small. Regarding going to Imladris, Undómion had hardly any desire to make the journey; part because there would be none to watch over ‘his birds’…Of course, some of those he knew well could keep things in check. Though, for some reason or another, he just did not trust them enough. Undómion decided to ponder this another time, or perhaps think on it while walking beneath the tall trees. Walking beneath the Mellyrn results in random thinking than the topic originally planned, but he did not care that much. Undómion descended to the forest floor, and some of his birds came to rest on his shoulders and arms.
The Noldo walked half-awake beneath the eaves, the hawks making dove noises.
‘Bizarre creatures they are…’
Like years before, something ran into him, and nearly fell over again; the hawks flew away.
“Aiya!” he exclaimed after being spun half around. Turning around again, again he beheld the same silver head Silvan-maiden on the ground, staring with big eyes.
Undómion was left again dumbfounded. It would be a bit strange that they have not come across each other even once over the years…yet Undómion knew nothing about this particular elleth’s whereabouts. The hawks returned to their master, and it gave the elleth the wrong idea.
Her eyes lit up, and she stood up, waving her arms as she charged at the ellon, “Birdnapper! Shoo, beloved birds!”
“Stop this nonsense!” Undómion cried out, things happening too fast once more. He whistled to have his companions return back home, and after things settled down, was left with a confused elf-maid.
“Who gives you the right to hold them against their will!?”
“None! Uh-” Undómion furrowed his brow, “…except their own?”
“They would not willingly become bound to ropes and cages!” the elleth grabbed a branch again.
Undómion lifted his hands, walking back as the Silvan maid waved the branch in his face, until he was pressed against the base of a tree, “Agh! How different is it from what your people do?” The waving stopped.
“You…don’t cage them?” the maiden gave the Noldo an odd look.
“Why would I?” Undómion raised a brow. Heat was rising onto his face as he watched and studied the maiden. Such determination in her…
The elleth stared, “I ran into you some time ago, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. And you have done so again…literally.” Undómion tried hard to ignore that the Silvan maid was awfully close as she looked at the strange yet fine clothing the Noldo wore.
“I am quick like a doe…I tend to forget where I am going…or what is in my way.”
“And where were you heading?”
“North…”
Undómion quickly looked about to try and slide past to be away from the tree…yet there was no space at all, and he would not forcefully move a maiden out of his way, “Then why spend...waste, if I dare to say, time with a random…” he twitched a bit, “Confused, and subdued ellon?”
The elleth stepped away, “You intrigue me.”
Intrigued? “There is…nothing interesting about me.” Undómion denied.
“Liar.”
The Noldo blinked, “…Denier, I prefer.”
Silence lingered in the air; both elves of different kindred watched each other.
“Who are you?”
“I am Erebendil…” Undómion’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “No! Ahhh…Thúlrandir….Th…”
The maid smiled, “Strange names.”
“They are not my names!” the Noldo’s face was completely red at this stage, “Undómion-that is my father name.”
“Why did you not say so in the first place?” the Silvan elf appeared amused, and perhaps a look of victory was on her face, “Díllothwen; is my name, to fit the new tongue that has invaded our home.”
Undómion did not want to prod the issue about her view of people invading her homeland. He understood the reasons well enough, “…will that be all?”
“I’m in no hurry to return to my family further north of the wood.”
“I do not want to be rude, though, my lady…yet I have far more important things to see to.”
Díllothwen watched the strange ellon’s movements, he kept his distance a fair ways from her, “What things?” she asked in a curious tone.
“Nothing that concerns you.”
She made a face, and Undómion nearly fell for the guilt Díllothwen tried to instill. To his surprise, she actually looked a bit surprised herself at the fact the Noldo kept a serious (if not humiliated) demeanor.
“I might bump into you again sometime soon…hopefully not years.” Díllothwen said quietly and politely.
Undómion said nothing in response, and began walking his way back to his Talan, glad that the elleth was not following.
Back in his ‘safety spot’, Undómion sat on a branch as he pondered what just happened…No encounters were this strange. Was this Díllothwen more of Avari descent? She said her family was further north; along the borders to the wildlands. It dawned to him what he originally was supposed to be thinking about…his journey to Imladris.
“You are not helping.” He said to the hawk perched on his head.
