Somewhere eyond the river Lune, there lay an Elvish country, green and quiet, a land no Men ever saw. Here the High Elves that still lingered in Middle-earth dwelt in the lands of Lindon. Mithlond is nestled between the snowy picks of the Blue Mountains, and the Sea, and the town was filled with bustle and business on the day Gilith arrived. The winter had passed, grey dark clouds and stormy weaves had been replaces by a warm sun shining, leaving the sparkling wide Sea open as far as any Elven eye could see. Gilith gazed at it longingly from the balcony of her seaside home, just a short walking distance from the Sea.
The noise of a busy harbor did not bothered her. Here in Mithlond she relished it more than she did the soft quietness back in the Golden Wood. Her house had a small, private quay, where a sailing boat her father had built, lay ready and swaying upon the lolling waters. This was used mostly for rapid journeying about Mithlond or the coasts of Lindon.
Gilith smiled as a whisper of fair wind made her hair dance and unfurled. In Mithlond, the ever-present murmurs of the Sea, blended seamlessly with the music of the Eldar, and the beautiful sight of the great Swanships, swaying gently on the waves, ready to sail from the haven, made every Elven heart ache with longing. Here you could hear Elven mariners singing and laughing, as they dangled from the high masts, tenting the white sails. The Grey Havens were truly a marvelous sight to behold, with its great harbors, shipyards, and lamplit quays. Gilith's house had a walled courtyard, and a garden, and a narrow path behind the house that lead up the hill, to the woods.
Here she could be truly alone with her thoughts. There were evergreen trees, and bushes, and fountains made of rare seashells. The salty breeze lifted some of the burden of her duties off her spirit, here Gilith felt truly free to be herself. By the Sea Gilith looked especially beautiful. Sunlight played in her silver hair, and her skin tanned slightly. Then the messenger from Lothlorien arrived with a request for her to return to her regiment. It is said Elves do not cry. It is said the Firstborn are unable to shed tears. This is not true. For on her last day in Mithlond, there stood Gilith, tears streaming down as a great swanship was sailing into the horizon, and a gently sea-breeze whispered in her ears " Come to me.."
