Miluiwen

Soft strains of harp music escaped from the Hall of Fire as the door opened and closed with the arrival of each new soul. Inanneth purposely did not look in as she passed. While it was probable that whichever of her kinsmen were in Rivendell at the moment would be amongst the crowd, she knew Anglachelm was not part of the gathering.

The moon was full and hung low in the sky the night Anglachelm left Falathorn. Ina watched it for long moments from her front garden, listening to the gentle sound of the river as it tumbled past her house. Somewhere, not yet too far, he was travelling under that same moon. The thought of that should bring her comfort, and maybe it would one day, but now. Not yet. Her grief was still to raw.