Imladris

Continued from : Wanderings: Return to Cuivienan

I had been sitting on the incline outside the hall. The early evening was a fair one, the stars still a promise below the horizon. It was not as warm as of late. The season was turning, but slowly, gracefully. I had come from speaking with Filignil about our stores for winter, as well as Parnard’s plans for the Autumn Festival. She understood my wish for the latter. Parnard was far from home.

Nethril, who for many a yén had gone by no other name, had come again to the Markets of Imladris with bolt upon bolt of cloth in many a colour, and Manadhlaer had to touch them all; rub some between thumb and finger to make sure the dye was fast even though it always was; and even sniff some to make sure of the fiber's provenance. Even her new stallion was bored -- resting his head on her shoulder, at last. He might have slobbered down the front of the dress she was already wearing, had she not shoved his heavy head away with an exclamation.

Thibinoriel, Celebthondil, and members of their family sat comfortably at their dining table as they broke their fast. Suddenly, there came a knock at the door which Thibinoriel answered. It was a messenger bearing a note from Lady Galadriel. Thibinoriel thanked the messenger and placed a small green gem in his hand. She carefully opened the note and began to silently read it. When she had finished she returned to the dining table to share the news.