The Hills of Eregion stretched before them. It had not taken long to reach the river and ford it. Nimrandir paused, his eyes going to the far silhouette of ruined Mirobel in the distance. He strode forward confidently but his face became sombre as they caught sight of the foul beasts and evil men that swarmed over the ancient ruins.
"It was not always thus, Faerlhain" he said. "This was once a great place of learning and making..."
Fairlain nodded, her eyes seeking paths that would take them past both men and beast unnoticed.
"So I have been told. But that was before I was born. This is all I remember of this place..."
She remembered how he had looked lying in torment on the cave's floor, so far from the waking world yet still fighting against the terrors which tormented him. She had stood over him helplessly as his strength was turned against itself and could do nothing. It tore her heart from her, yet all she could do was reach beyond herself and crave grace that he be given enough strength to survive.
Nimrandir glanced at her. "How old are you, Faerlhain?"
Faerlhain answered, "I have seen twenty-two summers."
Nimrandir's eyes widened, "Ai! You are no more than an infant..."
Faerlhain's eye's narrowed, "I am old enough....we should make for the Bruinen." She pointed into the distance.
She remembered how his face looked when she had asked him why he had followed her. She had peered earnestly into his eyes, trying to see if they held any lie or ill intent. He rebuked her saying he would not be swayed by feminine wiles. That, actually, had been annoying...and embarrassing; there was nothing farther from her thought. But his eyes held the light of truth, and she did not believe there was any evil purpose in his heart. As a rule she would more easily trust a dwarf than a man. She could remember the men of Dale who loitered around her beautiful mother as she tended her market stall, slavering bears snatching at honeycomb. Some were better spoken than others but all had the same ravenous look in their eyes. She had hated them. The men of Bree were no better and often worse. But this man, unwashed and looking more beast than man, was not like them.
The two walked silently through the winding hills which sheltered lush stands of holly trees. They moved quickly, only pausing as they met the evil things that were encroaching upon the land. The time to stand and fight them would come soon enough. They moved in the shadows of the holly trees silent and unseen.
"Do you know Imladris, then?", asked Nimrandir
"I do." Fairlain smiled. Her memories of that place and its lord were pleasant ones. Even though she had not truly felt a part of it, she recalled the warmth and welcome of Elrond's house.
She remembered the sound of his laughter, and the smile upon his face as he joked among friends and the hollow feeling inside knowing that she would never fit into the world of men, or of elves, or dwarves, or even the world of her own heart...unless he were there too.
Nimrandir said, "It is a place of peace. It is wisdom that we go there."
How is it wisdom, if reason cannot hear the voice of one's heart?
