Fountain

Quiet. The last remnants of those departing had left a few days earlier. Even the oldest had joined this time. Himwen had seen the cave emptying, had seen the Men carry what little they owned out of this dark, dank place, to a world they barely had seen. To go south, to a part of Arda they perhaps never had visited. And still, with brave hearts and deep determination, they had taken charge of their own destinies and pushed forward. In her quiet contemplation, she pondered about the consequences of their kind taking that stride now. They would be there when she and her kind would not.

Tindir paced up and down the small chamber which was appointed to him as Field Commander of Hammer, clearly pondering while waving the document he received from Tingruviel in his right hand, as if he wanted the ink to dry. At every sharp turn he made, he lifted it, and glanced at the Lady Ambassador, then continued his pacing back and forth.

Suddenly he stopped in front of his ash wooden chair and plumped into it.