Word had reached from the scouts that the trolls in the north had grown in number and were posing a thread, slowing moving south for resources.
The folk of Imladris held a meeting upon arriving tidings. They decided to send a band of hunters and warriors to the Ettenmoors. Feathorfin stood up to volunteer with many other valiant elves. Immediately he ascended to his chamber to prepare for the journey. He meant to don his hauber and weaponary. He had no heart to explain to Nindis what was happening. It was as if he was driven by an urgency, a Noldo feeling, to join this group and ride north. Something old and ever young was re-awakenbing in him. The eternal flames of battle were rekindled in him. Yet, his heart dismayed when he thought of Nindis. She was young and had never seen battle. Her untouched joy and youthful happiness came from her uncorrupted nature. Feathorfin looked at his hands. Memories struck him and he regretted his past.His life had been too heavy. He did not deny that his heart was darkened by the deeds of his own hands. Perhaps that is why he was eager to fight to protect the innocent. Deep down inside, his true motivation was to amend his past. With his hauberk and weapons on, he let his body fall onto the bed, on his back. All the unforgettable and unforgivable moments of the past flashed before his eyes. Hithlum, Beleriand and Nirnaeth... He was lying there, frozen as the past flashed before his eyes. He now had no strength left to get up. He fell into a sudden slumber.
