I placed a calming hand on the restive horse. Nimithil had carried me faithfully through the passes of the White Mountains and now, as we looked upon the fords of the Isen a choice lay before us.
I confess I had made a point of avoiding the settlements of men as much as I possibly could. Whenever I tried to help any of the sons of men, I often ended up with a piece of sharpened metal pointed at my heart the moment they realized I was not one of them. Not that such a thing was so great an obstacle, but it wearied my heart to have good intent met with fear and hatred.
The lands around me were scorched and scarred, bearing the marks of death and battle. Across the river I could see the hills of Dunland. Far in the other direction lay the river Anduin and the path back to the Golden Wood. Suddenly I heard my lady`s voice echo within my mind,
``The time grows short...do not tarry. Go to the ruins of Edhelion and do as I have asked.``
Northwards, then. Perhaps an easier path after all. For all that the Dunlendings are savage, they have a keen awareness of the Powers of the Valar and acknowledge them, or at least the most powerful of them, though to them he is named `Rhi Helvarch` rather than Oromë. Nor would it be unwelcome to see the land of Eregion, though the grief of lost glory hangs over it. And beyond that...the lands of men.
A heavy sigh escaped me at this last thought. Nimithil twitched one ear backwards and gave a small stamp with his hind foot. I laughed as I shook the thoughts away.
"Yes, you are right...there is another place we might visit upon our way. And I will have as much need of his wisdom as I will of his kindness." I reached down and patted the white neck, smiling as a golden memory filled my mind.
I will never forget the first time I saw the place men call Rivendell.
I was not even fully grown, yet allowances had been made that I should be able to accompany my parents on the great procession that travelled from Lothlorien. After all, a marriage between the House of Finarfin and the House of Ëarendil was no small thing.
The daughter of my Lord and Lady was very dear to my heart, for she was one of the few who would take time to sing and play with a child amongst the busy and important activities of Caras Galadhon. When I was quite small, 'Celebri' and I would fashion boats from the Mallorn leaves and set them upon the stream which wound its way through the great trees of the city. We would run alongside the glistening rivulet as our 'ships' made their way downhill to the Nimrodel, making up little songs about the great 'journey' as we went. As time passed, I had seen less and less of my friend... duties and studies calling to us both. When I was told that there was to be a marriage between Celebrian of Lothlorien and Elrond Peredhil of Imladris, I begged my parents to let me join them in the great procession to Rivendell.
The journey was long and tiring for a young one, but I still recall how my heart leapt when I first saw the lights of the Hidden Valley melding with that of the stars above and heard the song that the waterfalls of Imladris sing to one another. Of the celebration, my memory is perhaps not so clear....there were a great many long speeches and even longer songs offered in the Hall of Fires, and I confess I grew restless with them.
While my parents gave their attention elsewhere, I slipped quietly from the Hall and made my way to the upper levels where we had been shown the marvelous library. Once there, I lifted down those volumes which were in my reach and sitting on the floor, began to read. Even here I did not find the wondrous tales I had hoped for. Most of the writings were concerned with healing and were adorned with finely wrought drawings of various plants and animals, but there were no stories such as my father would often tell me. I was tracing the image of a flower with my finger, when a keeper of the library came and sat close to me on a nearby bench. After watching me a while, he asked
"Do you wish to be a healer, too?"
I stopped my tracing and looked up with a sigh
"Maybe...the drawing is very beautiful...and it says that..," I read aloud carefully, " this plant will help knit those who have been torn by battle or mis-hap."
I paused, then continued, "I wanted to find some stories here...better than the ones that were being told...they went on sooo long!" I tried not to, but I could not help rolling my eyes.
My companion grinned briefly and said, "I am afraid that often happens; it is the way of the Hall. What tale would you have told?"
"The story of Luthien...the part where she sings a beautiful lullaby, putting everyone to sleep, and then they snatch up the Jewel from 'him'," I raised my eyebrows menacingly, in case he did not know to whom I was referring, " No-one ever wrote down the words to the song she sang. The rest of the story is sad...but I like that part!"
"I see. And would you wish to be like Luthien when you are grown?
I shook my head, "I would like to be brave like her. All of the stories say she was the prettiest. I won't ever be that, but Celebri' is just as pretty, I think." I scowled at him slightly, daring him to disagree with me.
He leaned forward and whispered, "Do not tell the scholars, but I think she is prettier." Standing up, he offered me his hand. "For now, there is a mother and father who are concerned that their little maiden has gone missing. Come, it is time to go back."
I set aside the book I held, and together we returned to the great Hall. I do not remember much else of that night, for I soon fell asleep in my Father's arms. But I did learn in due time that the keeper of the library I had met was in fact its owner, Lord Elrond himself.
