The rising Sun found Feveren singing gaily in his high, clear voice, as he strolled heedlessly through a fair wild wood that grew along the River Lhûn. Never before had he passed eastwards of the Ered Luin; indeed, save for three journeys to Harlond as an elf-child, he had not ventured beyond the fences of his forest home. But he was not troubled in mind, for his heart was light and the thrill of adventure was upon him.
   The dawn light shone bright upon the towering peaks of the Ered Luin that reared up into the pale sky, burnishing them with crimson and gold. Ever was the song of the running water on his right hand, mingling with the soft slow singing of the trees; but strange to his mind they were, for they seemed akin to the elm-trees of his woodland home, yet their leaves were of rose pink or silver white, and never before had his eyes beheld such as these that did not shimmer red and yellow in the autumn light. But their voices were alike to the friendly trees that he well knew, and their leaves gleamed merrily in the sunshine, and birds sang sweetly in their leafy crowns, so that his heart was filled with gladness, nonetheless.

   In the Havens Feveren had been duly warned that Rath Teraig, the mountain pass that wends its way north-east through a great gorge in the Ered Luin, was impassable to wayfarers in these latter days, and Elven-folk departing for the Uttermost West were now obliged to use other passes far to the south.¹ And indeed there was a paved road out of Mithlond that followed the winding course of the Lhûn, but beyond the narrow southern pass he had shunned it in favour of walking over the crisp carpet of autumn leaves beneath the waking trees; for of late he had had smooth hard stone beneath his feet aplenty, and it eased his heart to tread again upon the forest floor.

*      *      *

   Eight leagues had he wandered under the wooded eaves of the mountains when, cresting the top of a shoulder of the hills that stood above the river-valley, Feveren descried far-off an elven settlement nestled in a bend of the broad river. This was not marked on his map, nor had he heard tell of Elf-havens beyond the ports of Mithlond, and thus in eagerness he quickened his pace forward.
   Ever closer he came, and to his keen elven-eyes the place seemed almost familiar, for it was fashioned in the High-elven manner akin to Harlond and the Grey Havens, with its streets and stairs, and houses and wharfs of cut stone; indeed, though not as great in size it was yet alike in shape to that harbour in Harlindon, and back into his mind came the memory of Faethurin and himself learning to paddle a slender boat in the rippling waters thereof, when they were still but meager children.
   'The Nelyar were our kin of old, but Sea-elves² we are now!' Faethurin had cried in jest, ere the boat overturned and spilled the pair laughing into the cool wet waters of the firth.
   'Sea-nymphs,³ more like!' Feveren had spluttered, and he spat a mouthful of water at his Grey-elven friend.

And now Feveren laughed aloud as he walked onwards, but he turned aside his thought from that merry memory, for he bore in mind the teaching of his friend, the hunter, who ever warned him to give heed to his surroundings while wandering in the wilds, for the fanciful young Green-elf was ever prone to losing himself in mirth and his imaginings.

   The risen sun was shining warmly on his cheek, and passing round a ruined tower of dark stone that stood alone upon a hill-crest that overlooked the river-vale, he at last gazed down at the elven-town below. And even at his early hour, he espied many Elven-folk abroad busy with their daily labours, and he hearkened to their clear voices calling from the quay amidst the sound of rasping wood-saws and the far-off ringing of smitten anvils. This latter clamour most aroused his interest, for the working of metals of the earth is uncommon amongst the Green-elves, and though he had sometimes seen the Grey-elven smiths at work, he had no mind to try his own hand at the art; thus even as he listened, in the mind of Feveren the thought took shape to do so.

   For while he lingered in Mithlond he had learned of the trading of goods for minted coins, rather than bartering as was the wont of the woodland-elves; indeed he heard also that such coin could be earned by labour and by skill, and the livelihood of the folk of the hinterlands beyond the Ered Luin depended much on this. But he knew not what skills of his own would serve, for in his mind he doubted that any Elf would give him silver or gold in exchange for his woodcraft or the healing arts he had learned at the knee of Gledhril, his mother; but payment by the unknown kindreds of Dwarves and Men came not into his mind, save for wondering if it were they that had brought this strange practice into the lives of the Firstborn (or if it was indeed a contrivance of the High Elves!)
   Yet pay his way he must, it seemed, and perhaps in this river-town he might find the means; thus with his heart emboldened by this thought, he made his way down the steep stone stair that led down to the quayside.

*      *      *

1. "The Southern Barricade guards the way to the Grey Havens to the south-west. It was sealed off by the dwarves some years ago as the goblins swarmed out to overrun Rath Teraig and now lies abandoned and impassable, making the trek of the Elves travelling to the Havens a long and arduous journey as they must use passes far to the south."
   - Deed: Rath Teraig Exploration

2. Nelyar was the original name of the third Clan of the Elves, the Teleri, before the Great March
           Falmari means "wave-folk" in Sindarin; Sea-elves, Teleri of Valinor

3. Gwingil (Sindarin); vingil (Quenya) = "foam-maiden"

vi