Eliriael

Eliriael bent down to pull some of the saffron flowers from her basket and arrange them neatly into the vase. She smiled, caressing the petals with a gentle touch before pouring some fresh water, taken from the streams, in with the flowers. She turned her head to look at the bed once again where Lord Tindir lay and noted the peaceful rise and fall of the bedding as he breathed. Content with his well-being, she returned to finish settling the flowers in and inhaled their scent deeply before rising to stand.

The pink blush of dawn began to rise across the cheeks of the dark sky as Eliriael reentered the valley. The time to blend into the shadows had passed and she placed her fingers around the rim of her hood to slowly pull her cloak away from her body. A small sigh escaped her lips, letting the fears of night pass from her and allowing the calm of the valley to fill her.

The song was one of some length and it filled the time for much of their ascent towards the mountain’s peaks. She soon noticed that Belegos was still physically worn by the injuries he had and the heavy cart he pushed ahead of him. So Eliriael walked beside Belegos and Vëon’s body, pulling the cart beside her as much as she could, though her strength was too little to lessen Belegos’ burden at all.

Eliriael looked into Belegos’ eyes, and in their depths, she saw a spark of warmth kindled and she knew there was much hope left there. Perhaps her rescuer did not believe in himself or in any bright future, but she knew otherwise. There were no evident signs to assure her, but at times children have been known to see much more of the world and its people than is perceivable by the grown and wise.

Laurelindo was sitting in the middle of his own bags, a simple tent standing around him... So simple actually that it was ready to fall after not even 2 hours. He would have to do it properly in the morning... If he or anyone else really cared about it at the time that is.

His mind was replaying the day's events, beginning with the assembly of those who left Imladris that day :

Again, Eliriael took up her quill, dipped it into the ink, and let her hand hover over the parchment. The tip of the quill stood upon the paper, the ink pooling together for a moment before she began writing. The quill etched itself into the parchment, leaving its imprint and a dark liquid trail behind.

My dearest Miruial,

Dearest Eliriael,

Have you arrived yet in Imladris safely? It has been many weeks now since you departed, promising to write of your arrival once you had reached Lord Elrond’s House.