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We knew of Balrogs, we knew of worms, but it was the first Dragon any of my folk had seen. Crafted by Morgoth twisted imagination, it was something we had little ability to fight.
“Amille!” I called as I swung my cloak about my shoulders, stuffed two daggers in my leather belt and took up my sword. “Amille, there is no time for your pictures. You must leave them.”
“We do not peer idly into the past of the family of our Princes. Their life is here. Our lives are here. But in your case, Carnifinde, I understand the curiosity. You do have the look of the Lady Nerdanel about you, and something of her manner. It is no surprise our Prince sees you are well provided for, not that your father is any unworthy Lord of Thargelion. Perhaps it is time you and I had a talk.”
As we rode, we marveled at the night sky. (It was still early, though at almost mid-winter it was dark very early.) Cold and clear, I could almost hear the great music of the stars, tinkling in the ice cold distance.
“So Carnifinde, when are you going to do something about the situation?” Hirinde broke the silence.
I have never been one for a large gathering of acquaintances, preferring a small number of closer friends. For much of my early life this consisted of Rilye, Hirinde and Caro.