“Amille!” I called as I swung my cloak about my shoulders, stuffed two daggers in my leather belt and took up my sword. “Amille, there is no time for your pictures. You must leave them.”
“We do not peer idly into the past of the family of our Princes. Their life is here. Our lives are here. But in your case, Carnifinde, I understand the curiosity. You do have the look of the Lady Nerdanel about you, and something of her manner. It is no surprise our Prince sees you are well provided for, not that your father is any unworthy Lord of Thargelion. Perhaps it is time you and I had a talk.”
The eve of the day before we set out for Imladris, I rode down to the shore. We would be far from the sea for some time. It was just something I had to do. I took with me a short-sword I had been gifted in the First Age. Little need was their for Sarphir, travelling through this part of Ered Luin.
I stood as the gulls circled before taking rest, as the quality of light changed, as anor sank low. And I thought on what lay ahead.