Belegos

Eliriael looked into Belegos’ eyes, and in their depths, she saw a spark of warmth kindled and she knew there was much hope left there. Perhaps her rescuer did not believe in himself or in any bright future, but she knew otherwise. There were no evident signs to assure her, but at times children have been known to see much more of the world and its people than is perceivable by the grown and wise.

Parnard opened his eyes and stretched his limbs, feeling all weariness gone. He was glad to see the sun had gone down since he rested.

Elloen had a bandage in his hand, and he was rolling it on the arm of yet another wounded malledhrim soldier. The air about him was foul, and there was little comfort in this place, at the camp of the shore at western Mirkwood. He heard the soldier thanking him and he smiled briefly as an answer. Danel had earlier negotiated that they could stay here if they helped the wounded soldiers and Elloen had agreed to do it, along with keeping an eye over Estarfin. Promise was a promise.

The crowd gathered in solemn remembrance for the city that burned before them. Women wept softly, children cried out for their parents and the men of the City stood in silent despair. Their King was dead and their city was in ruins. They were refugees, the lucky few who had escaped, for the throng numbered a few hundred, no more and for a while they were leaderless until Tuor went about them, shaking them from their sorrows and organising what fighting troops were left.

Sometimes I wonder if Lord Estarfin is in his right mind. But what is right?

This place somehow feels old and new at the same time; a fact that both puzzles and delights me. The tall silver trees with their golden leaves are beautiful, never before have I seen their like upon this earth. As I lie upon the soft green grass threaded through with delicate purple flowers, the winter sun shines through the golden canopy above, bathing me in light and warmth. Sleep will take me again soon and perhaps this time I will find rest. I am reluctant to sleep, although I have never been this exhausted before.

Elloen was still in Lórien, and once again a guest to his uncle Feamiril and aunt Linnen, sitting next to the table in his thoughts, though he didn't have much time, since he had promised to lady Danel return to his companions soon.

As I wait, the sun slips slowly down behind the trees, so that the leaves blush with rosy light. I light the lamps myself, kindling each small flame one by one. In the gathering darkness, the stone maiden stares out into the distance she cannot see, one hand always reaching out, expression lost in shadow. I sit cross-legged on the soft grass, listening to the sound of the waterfall just a few feet away. It doesn't completely mask the approaching footsteps, but I do not turn until I feel the hand drop lightly to my shoulder.

I saw Rainith and Lord Belegos wander off together, she looking betwixt us, and m