We rode out of Forlaw toward Thrymm’s farm. As I did not sense any threats to the Thane and I, I delayed summoning Rhiwnag, and instead took the opportunity to pursue a private conversation. “You do not have the same distrust for Elves as your countrymen”, I said bluntly.
Elfnere was only momentarily surprised by the statement. “Not all from Rohan share that suspicion, although you no doubt understand its origin?”
“Elves and Men have had relations in the past”, I began. “But they have been … problematic. From our point of view, we would prefer to mostly keep our distance.” I did not speak of the exceptions with such as the Dunedain of the north.
The Thane nodded. “And as such, for many centuries, the Elves have retreated into a misty past for the Eorlingas. Our contacts have been sparce and brief, leaving us with more questions than answers. Ancient stories from the days of Calenardhon speak of your kind as mystical beings beyond the understanding of mortal men. The absence of experience begs for speculation and suspicion.”
I was awed at the wisdom of his statement. This Mortal was more educated than I was expecting, and perhaps that said as much for me as for him and his people. “How did you arrive at that conclusion?”, I asked, tempting him with the assumption that it was his and not just something he was taught.
He smiled. “In my youth, we had a wanderer from far lands earn our trust in Faldham. He seemed wise and thoughtful, and we allowed him to share his stories of a broader world. He stayed with us for only a few years before the road called him again. I forget his name….”. His voice trailed off as he seemed to be revisiting fond memories. A moment later he shook his head and returned to the conversation. “He recounted wonderous stories of your kind and spoke of alliances and wars where of Men and Elves fought common enemies and died for great causes.”
Whoever this fellow was, he had prepared the ground upon which Elfnere and I now rode.
Thrymm’s farm appeared in the distance.
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