Thendryt

The clasp was small.
A center wooden piece, and two crossing swords.
The clasp turned to ash in his hands.
Thendryt blinked, but thought nothing of it. He looked up, and gazed upon the wooden structures of Imladris. The Vale was quiet, solemn.
Something caught his eye. A cloak, gently flowing through the air. He caught it with both hands, and held it.
Flames suddenly covered the cloth. Thendryt released the cloak, his eyes opening wide. He took a step back, as the cloak became confused by the fire.
“Thendryt? Something wrong?”

“I hope I'm not interrupting.”
Thendryt leaned on a pillar and gazed out on the river. Imladris was quiet, if you didn’t count the sound of the large waterfall.
Adanmiel Haerelwen shook her head, but kept her gaze upon the flowing waters.
“Didn't know you were in the Vale, when did you get back?” Thendryt asked.
“I heard you had found out during your watch.” Adanmiel said, wasting no time with unnecessary questions.
Thendryt sighed and looked down.

It had taken him long enough.
Thendryt opened the door to the far section of the Rivendell stables. He didn’t try to be silent, there was no point. He walked towards the Elf. He took his time, there was no need to rush things.
“Must you creep so much?” Dolthafaer asked as his hand fell from his horse’s mane.
Thendryt sat down, loudly, on the bench right next to the box.
“I’ll need that journal back.”

The statue was not even half finished, but there was no real question of who it was. Short hair, and an all too familiar posture.
Thendryt had walked into Imlad Gelair on impulse. But he did not expect to see a half made statue of Faorie in the glade. Who the mason was wasn’t blatantly obvious.

Thendryt…

He sat there, in the middle of the cell. The stench of death filled his nostrils.

Morson…

He couldn’t see. The cell was dark, and the lights dim.

Whoreson!

Thendryt was sitting on a stool in Rivendell’s stables, tool in hand. The evening air was chilly, but refreshing.
Bovad complained as Thendryt grabbed his hoof.
“Stop complaining.”
Bovad let out a final grumpy snort before giving in, and Thendryt started cleaning it.
“Thendryt.”
Lowering the tool, Thendryt looked up to find Nelnardis standing next to him, bottle in hand.
“Nel, long time.”
“Yes, it has been.”
Thendryt turned his attention back to the hoof.

Lilleduil would not have wanted to track Dolthafaer in a forest.  Could her friends have found him?  Most likely.  But to send a bear or lynx or perhaps even an Eagle to spy upon the Lord of Arrows would be dangerous, a violation of their bond with her.  Fortuitously, she actually happened upon him outside the Last Homely House.  She paused for a moment before approaching.

Adanmiel rode leisurely back into the Vale as the sun began to set along the horizon.

"Llamreth, thank you for accompanying me, friend," she whispered as she dismounted.  Her steed trotted off to a grassy clearing nearby and began to graze.  Her strength had begun to improve after returning from the long journey they had taken together to Edhellond.  Adanmiel was glad, the journey had been hard on Llamreth.  She removed Llamreth's bridle and headed home.

Nelnardis took a long mouthful from the bottle of wine. She was sitting on the grass behind her house in Imladris. Not bothering to replace the cork, she set down the green bottle, focusing her attention on the journal on her lap.

“Thendryt? I wanted to talk to you,” Lilleduil said, watching as Raolor walked away.  Thendryt turned his face towards her slightly, but still kept his eyes upon the Hammer.

“Outside,” he said.