Gondolin

((continuation of Essenya))

Three summers ago, Mithlond

The Gondolindrim had all been brimming with anticipation the whole day, now, on the eve of the first day of Summer, they all stood upon the eastern wall of the White City, waiting.

Waiting for Anar to rise and greet the first of warm, beautiful and bright days of summer, as it did for more than a century by then. Sinilatamo looked to his right, smiling at the brown haired elleth whose hand he was holding, his vanimelda*, as he called her. She smiled back, placing her index finger on her mouth to indicate they should still be silent. He nodded.

Sinilatamo breathed deeply the fragrant air that early morning. It truly was the perfect day: azure sky like aquamarine, not a single cloud, the mountains sprouting dark green patches of pine trees among the dusting of snow. Carried by the wind, warm enough to be outdoors without cloak, the scent of newly budding flowers.

Envandiel paused before the door.

Spring was sweet and crisp in the hidden valley of Tumladen. Summer was short and cool in the streets of Ondolinde. Autumn was just a passer-by for the cold winter season. Sinilatamo did not like the sudden changes of climate characteristic of Echoriath, remembering the mild temperatures of Vinyamar near the sea. He preferred to spend as much time indoors as he could when the weather decided to be capricious, especially when it threatened rain. If he could. That day, he made an exception on behalf of a friend.

A true warrior, skilled veteran, and passionate fighter, Aurthiel has a small collection of trusted weapons she keeps on her person. These are her weapons, their origins, and the personal preferences of this ancient Noldo.