Niemire

Maedhrathin is sulking somewhat, and not being especially talkative this morning. A crumbled letter lies on the floor next to him. He has been called back to Lindon by his cousin in Harlond, and is trying to get organized for the trip. Family duties requires him to leave the peaceful valley, though he would rather had stayed longer with Ealendil.

A week had gone by since Ealendil, in company with Earcalie, had left Duillond for Imladris, a journey that would take a couple of weeks. Maedhrathin hadn’t accompanied Ealendil to say farewell and wish them good luck, he loathed these farewells, and besides… what needed to be said had been said already.