Loss Talt bo Iûl (Snow Falling on Embers)
"Ah! for the morning, fresh and bright,
and the western sky streaked gold and blue.
"Come Arien bring your flaming light
that I may gaze upon my love so pure and true.
"Oh! I shall take my lover's hand to hold
as we walk midst the leaves of green.
"And I shall keep my heart-mate near as each new day unfolds.
And ever shall the love we share wax full and fair and keen.
"Ah! My lover's hair is soft and long and every silken strand
falls gently over milky skin that quivers 'neath my touch.
"And my love has eyes alight with passion's fire,
lips that taste of sweet mulled wine,
"And ears tipped red with desire's blush
and all of this is mine.
"Heart and mind, flesh and breath, soul to soul as one
through years un-numbered, through time uncounted,
we shall love 'til the Music is done."
So sang Lindalcon, making the verses up as he went, strolling along the
snow-powdered path toward the centre of the maze, the lilting melody
meant to forewarn the solitary occupant of the ancient oak tree but
also allowing expression of his joyous delight in his brother's
happiness. And the hopefulness of the moment eased his concerns for his
own heart, for if Legolas could find love even with the cruelty of the
Judgement upon him, then surely there was an elf in existence willing
to join eternally with Lindalcon.
I shall walk this trail with my beloved some day. I will sing to her
this song on that day.
No longer did the early freeze trouble him and his high spirits could
not be crushed by any bitterness or sorrow. The loss of his father and
the anguish of the nightmarish visions of the Battle of Erebor belonged
to another world. Valtamar's son felt practically omnipotent for
initiating his remedy of the Tawarwaith's broken and battered soul, for
it was he who had broached the idea to Gladhadithen. Supplying the
catalyst for the bond's formation gave him certain rights, in his
estimation, that included free reign to harass his new law-brother
mercilessly with jokes, pranks, and general mayhem and disorder
designed to embarrass and humiliate the noble elf.
And also to instil a fearful respect for the consequences he will
face
should he ever cause Legolas so much as an instant of heartache!
Lindalcon reached the feet of doron-iaur (ancient oak), a gnarled and
tangled mass of exposed roots, some as thick as the girth of lesser
tree's trunks, and paused to lift his sight up into the canopy. There
he could just discern the silhouette of an elf's head and shoulders
leaning out beyond the ledge of the flet to see who had come calling.
Lindalcon smirked up at him.
"Are you presentable, Noldo?" he shouted through cupped hands toward
the platform.
The figure retreated from the edge, spewing forth a verbal barrage of
obscenities and curses, all of which explicitly described numerous
suggestions for mating habits and suitable partners the annoying
trickster might employ for said acts, pronounced with enough venom to
cause the old tree to cringe.
"When you get up here, nogotheg (dwarflet), I will…"
"Nay, do not dare speak it else I shall leave you to fend for yourself.
How are you planning to get out of the talan without the help of a
skilled climber, orc ûlren (smelly orc)?"
"Hah, Legolas shall return soon. Ego! (Be off!) You are not needed
here, amlug rein (dragon droppings)."
"Actually, my brother is on his way to the baths. He will soon be
enjoying a nice hot soak and is expecting me to guide you there, torog
alhand (stupid troll)."
More cursing and swearing ensued as well as the clatter of wooden
furniture being shoved around as a means of expelling excessive
frustration, but Lindalcon merely laughed and leaped into the branches.
Though he was not nearly as adept in this environment as Legolas, for
few elves were, he made the journey easily enough and with a grunt
heaved the pack onto the floor before lifting himself over the rim of
the smooth, flake-filmed boards. He stood and glanced around the
setting, noting the overturned chair near the broad wall of the oak's
boll, and finally faced the dark haired, naked Noldo Lord seated on the
bench by the table.
"Do you not find the temperature just a mite too frosty for such
complete exposure of your body, or perhaps this is some morning ritual
inherent to Imladris of which I am ignorant?" Lindalcon giggled as he
ducked aside, dodging the small wooden cup Erestor cast at his head.
"So droll, so entertaining! I wonder that you are not employed among
Thranduil's court minstrels," snarled the seneschal. Erestor got up and
retrieved the bag, carrying it to the table to inspect the contents. He
made an inarticulate yet expressive snort of half-approval,
half-suspicion as he pulled out a clean dry pair of moss green suede
leggings. "These had better fit. I am not parading through the city in
clothes Legolas outgrew a millennium ago just to amuse you."
"You did not mind him leaving here in your garments, looking ridiculous
trying to keep the tunic shut and the pants from falling off."
Lindalcon watched as Erestor held the leggings up to his body and
peered down to see if they would be long enough. The Imladrian sent him
a glittering glower as he half-turned and bent to step into them. The
younger elf gave his form an appraising inspection; the long black
locks cascaded forward and revealed the thin curving line of the old
scar upon Erestor's back.
"Aye, but for some reason Legolas was absolutely delighted to find that
you had stolen his clothing. I have never seen him cavort around like
that before and it was most endearing," the seneschal smiled as he
recalled the sight. Legolas had descended to gather his clothes and
returned empty handed, hair all sparkly with clinging crystals,
grinning so wide his molars were visible, and had bounced across the
room to fling himself into the seneschal's embrace.
"He barely restrained himself from clapping!" Erestor, however, could
not check a chuckle over it; he hopped a little to steady his balance
whilst sliding his left leg into the pants. "Legolas insisted on the
arrangements and I could not deny him his fun." He was aware of
Lindalcon's scrutiny and was untroubled. In fact, he more or less
expected it. The advisor was well put together and quite proud of his
physique.
"Your interest is understandable, but I am afraid I must squash your
hopes. I am already taken."
"Really? Well thank you for being so frank but are you quite certain
Legolas would approve of you discussing such intimate details of your
bonding with his younger brother?" Lindalcon was moving before he
finished and just evaded impact with a large pewter pitcher before it
sailed beyond the bounds of the flet, bumping and scraping down through
the limbs.
"You are horrid!" fumed Erestor.
"And you are vain!"
"Nay, do not deny it; you were staring."
"I was trying to understand what Legolas sees in you that so rouses his
blood. You do not look different from other males to me."
"And males do not stir your passions?" Erestor had finished tying up
the leggings and returned to the pack, drawing out a fine nut-brown
silk shirt and a warm woollen tunic of fawn coloured cloth. "I assure
you, were you not limited in your appreciation of sexuality, I would
indeed stand out from any other masculine specimen you might hope to
encounter." Lindalcon's braying guffaw deflated the Noldo's self-regard
a little but he hid the discomfort by pulling the shirt over his head.
"Ai Valar! How can Legolas abide your conceit?" the youth jeered.
"He tolerates me well, Lindalcon, quite well indeed." Now it was the
older elf scoffing, for the truth of that statement could not be denied.
"That is because he loves you," spoke Lindalcon quietly, all joking
vanished from his voice, and it was the seneschal's eyes he sought to
study now.
Erestor sobered up at once and met the searching gaze squarely, hearing
the serious concern within the young elf's tone. He did not want these
fears to linger among those that served as Legolas' family.
"Be at peace, Lindalcon, for I return his love and cherish the gift of
his heart. I know what you have been told of me is to your thinking
dishonourable, but all of that is past."
Lindalcon held the Imladrian's eyes and searched beseechingly, hoping
for these words to be true ones. Yet Erestor was correct; his
reputation was not very flattering to his morals, and there was no
dramatic alteration of the seneschal's soul visible. Legolas' brother
stared; there seemed to be a brighter gleam, perhaps a lessening of the
tight control over the shielded feä, but Erestor's demeanour was
little changed from that displayed four days ago. Lindalcon was not
satisfied.
"Are you saying to me that you will be constant? Do you mean that you
will be faithful to Legolas?" he demanded in a pitch concurrently
expressive of circumspect optimism and foreboding menace.
"I do mean it. I am through with seeking out casual partners to ease my
loneliness. What has been lacking in me Legolas supplies."
Lindalcon frowned slightly but nodded. He wanted to believe and even
felt in his soul that the Noldo meant every syllable, yet the matter of
the Galadhrim remained unanswered. The Councillor's apprentice felt it
improper to enquire further into the issue, sensing it was something to
be discussed between Fearfaron and Erestor as equals. He watched as the
advisor went again to the pack, pulled out the long cloak and began
feeling around in the bottom, an expression of annoyance suffusing his
visage.
"Where are my boots?" he demanded, and raised stormy features as
Valtamar's son started laughing once more. "Hênellon 'ortheb!
(Horrible little boy!)" This only increased the volume of the mocking
vociferations.
"I am sorry; you will have to go discalced," apologised Lindalcon. "Do
not worry, your foot gear is perfectly safe and in reasonably good
condition. I believe someone mentioned having them cleaned and oiled
and an ugly tear repaired. Now if you are quite ready I will lead you
from the heights."
"I am," Erestor said, clasping the cape around his shoulders. "You will
take me to Legolas?"
"Nay, to Fearfaron."
In the silence that followed this revelation Lindalcon made his way to
the middle of the flet and kicked aside a soft fur rug. There a trap
door was disclosed and he bent low to heave it open. As he stood he
noted with satisfaction the chagrin on the Noldo's face not to have
expected and searched for such a devise. The subsequent scowl verified
that Erestor also realised it was of no consequence; he could not very
well have left the talan nude and shivering to wander the city in
search of Pen-rhovan.
The rope ladder was stored neatly away in the lower cupboard of a small
cabinet set against the oak's trunk and Lindalcon fixed it onto iron
hooks bolted to the underside of the floor near the opening. As the
strong hithlain cord fell away into the space below without a sound, he
stepped aside and made a sweeping flourish toward the accommodation
with his right arm.
"After you, Lord Erestor."
With a feeling of ominous dread collecting in his gut, the seneschal
climbed quickly down the ladder and waited as Lindalcon followed.
Together they proceeded from the maze at a brisk pace for the
temperature was little improved by the lateness of the morn. They did
not converse, each absorbed in his own thoughts, and as with Legolas'
earlier passage, the pair did not notice the interest taken by the
population as they travelled. Lindalcon halted by the curve in the
trail and Erestor faced him, cocking an eyebrow in questioning
impatience.
"From here you had best go on alone. When the Spirit Hunter is done
with you return to me and I shall take you to Legolas," he almost
smiled at the uneasy lines that collected across the older elf's
forehead in response to these instructions. He took pity on his
law-brother then and reached out to squeeze his biceps in
encouragement. "Sîdh (Peace), you and Fearfaron want the same
thing: Legolas' happiness."
"Hannad, nogotheg." Erestor smiled and turned from the youth, which was
well for otherwise the icy handful of snow, accompanied by a loud wet
splat as it struck his back, would have plastered his face instead. He
wheeled to return the volley but Lindalcon was disappearing up into the
thickly needled limbs of a fir tree and only his taunting laughter was
within the Imladrian's reach.
"That is well; have your fun, but I shall find means to repay you in
kind. Or worse!" So saying he continued on the walkway and in mere
steps found himself at the carpenter's talan where said elf, expression
impassive and posture stern, watched him draw near.
"Suilad," the word left Fearfaron's mouth lacking the usual warmth one
associated with the term. "Adab nîn, adab lîn. (My house is
your house.)" He forced the muscles of his countenance to assemble
themselves into a rigid smile as he stood aside and beckoned the Noldo
to climb up.
"Mae Govannen, Fearfaron, thavron arod (noble carpenter)," Erestor said
and once aloft he bowed politely. "Hannaden 'erin fael suil. (My thanks
for the generous welcome.)"
Fearfaron's face revealed nothing but his eyes displayed his amusement
at these niceties from the second highest-ranking elf in Imladris. He
moved to the table and took a chair there, pouring out a small amount
of the wine for them both as the Noldo Lord situated himself in the
opposite seat. He handed one of the cups to Erestor and raised his own.
"We shall be done with formalities now, I think. First, however, a
traditional toast. Usually given at the announcement of a betrothal.
Gwaedh Vell ar Huin Thenid! (Strong Bond and True Hearts!)"
"Aye! Gwaedh Vell ar Huin Thenid!" the seneschal responded with gusto
and they both drank.
A short silence followed the replacement of the goblets to the surface
as the two regarded one another cautiously. At last Fearfaron allowed a
tentative smile, this time a real one, to hover around his grimly set
lips, for his ability to read the feä of another elf superseded
Lindalcon's significantly. The change in the Noldo was subtle but
undeniable.
"It is true then. You have bonded with him," he spoke mildly but his
relief was obvious and he was more than gratified at the tremendous
grin that transformed his guest's serious expression.
"Yes, fear not for his heart, I have it safely guarded now, Fearfaron."
"But I cannot help my concerns, for this is not a common occurrence
among my people. How has this been possible, for your human friend has
stated your spirit was given in trust to two others before Legolas?"
"I am not certain myself, for this is novel in my experience also,"
Erestor began, frowning as he attempted to form a logical reply that
would satisfy Legolas' foster-father. "I understand that is not the
answer you need from me, yet there is little more I can supply other
than my promise to hold to my vow."
"Nay, it is not enough," complained Fearfaron. "Explain your plans.
Will you return to your country and resume your life there as it was
before? Where does Legolas fit within your soul, already so crowded?"
"I must go home eventually, though I have no desire to leave the
Greenwood yet. As for Pen-bara and Pen-raun, I am no more able to
abandon them than I could desert Pen-rhovan."
Fearfaron's brows rose a bit to hear these pet names of which he
surmised the last belonged to his adopted son. Still, these assurances
were meagre and unsatisfying; the Noldo was holding back.
"Far! (Enough!) We will discuss this plainly or I will hold you
deceitful and so inform Legolas. What of your union with the Galadhrim,
Erestor?" The Spirit Hunter thumped the table with his fist for
emphasis.
"That is a private matter and not one I am willing to trade words
over!" the seneschal shot back. "You will have to accept my oath that I
will not allow them to cause any discomfort to your son."
"I cannot trust to that! This was the only worry to issue from the
Tawarwaith's lips and he does not know how to ask you what is going to
happen. What impacts Legolas shall not remain concealed from me for you
have not seen fit to talk of this with him! He is beyond dread, torn
with guilt while at the same time jealous of the long years' history
you have with your other mates. You will tell me the conditions of your
arrangement with the Galadhrim."
Erestor stared at the Wood Elf before him and knew there was no way to
divert his inquisition. But even more, he was aghast to understand how
much a threat his attenuated relationship represented to his new love.
Pen-rhovan had appeared jubilantly carefree barring that first night's
rigorous soul-bearing.
"Eru's arse. Legolas is good at hiding his doubts. I did not comprehend
the depth of his insecurity," he began softly and drew a breath for
strength before continuing. "I was not lying when I said I had no idea
how the bond betwixt us was made possible. However, perhaps if my love
for the Galadhrim is fully disclosed you will see that I am not seeking
to evade the truth but rather fearful over what the consequences will
be."
"Go on," coaxed the carpenter as the Noldo paused. Another deep sigh
preceded Erestor's next words.
"I was born in Gondolin and am of the House of Turgon, a distant cousin
of Idril. My mother was the niece of the granddaughter to Angrod,
Turgon's cousin. I lost them all, save Idril and her family, when
Gondolin fell. My father and older sister ordered me to go and I did. I
was to secure escape from the destruction for the remainder of our
House. Thus I joined the refugees fleeing with Tuor's family." Erestor
stopped and rubbed his eyes, for this was the same tale he had
recounted over and over for millennia and Ages, yet it was not the
right one.
Fearfaron poured him more wine and pressed him to take it, for it was
plain the elf was struggling within his soul for the words required.
"Hannad," whispered Erestor after drinking. The minutes fled away as
slowly as the silently twirling flakes descending from the clouds until
enough of the seneschal's resolve had accumulated. He began again.
"The truth is I ran. En route to Adaren's compound, I encountered some
elves of the House of the Mole in a complete rout and they screamed of
the terrors they had seen. They spoke of that section of Gondolin where
my folk dwelled as a place of utter destruction, aflame in the breath
of fire drakes and all the citizens therein slain, felled by the whips
of the Balrogs.
"I turned and fled. It is only because of my cowardice that I ended up
among Tuor's warriors. My fear drove me away from the fires and
devastation; I spotted the livery of the Swan's Wing and followed those
soldiers. That is how I survived the fall of Gondolin and the rest of
my family did not."
"Ai! That was a desperate struggle amid chaos, who would not fear the
devices of Melkor?" asserted the carpenter, a hand soundly gripping the
advisor's shoulder. "Your father would not wish you to needlessly waste
your life trying to undo the evil already done. The compound was
overrun and your people were destroyed, Erestor."
"That is near to what Legolas told me," Erestor spoke with gratitude
and a rueful smile. "Yet, it is not necessarily so. Once among Tuor's
troops, I learned of the betrayal of the Mole Clan. Mayhap they lied to
me and I could have aided many innocents to safety and freedom, to any
fate other than to burn."
"Had you any reason to even suspect that was possible?"
"Nay. None save Idril and Tuor had concerns over Maeglin, for he was
nephew to the King and had Turgon's favour. When I arrived in the
courtyard of her house, she was fending him off and the Moles were
revealed as kinslayers."
"For whom did you fight then, Erestor? Did you run again? Were you
among the betrayers or did you join Tuor's warriors in defending the
innocent lives of Idril and Eärendil?"
"I stood and fought for Idril."
"Then you acted nobly and your family would be proud of that. Have you
not said Idril was related to you by blood? Were not her people also
yours? Indeed, you have served the House of Eärendil since that
day, have you not?" Fearfaron waited for the seneschal's confirming nod
before he went on.
"Your compunction arose because you saved Tuor's family and could not
salvage your own. Yet it was not the wish of your father or your sister
to see you perish. Their last moments were victorious for they, too,
succeeded in delivering someone from that catastrophe: you. Do not
tarnish that triumph with misplaced remorse."
"Legolas said that also. I did not really comprehend this until I met
him. He made me understand that good should never be discarded just
because evil served as its catalyst. He cannot see it in himself, yet
everything he does defines the concept. His life is a disaster but he
leaves everything improved in the wake of his passing."
"My eyes are opened; your bond with Legolas was forged in the healing
of these old injuries each of you suffered. Yet what has not been
explained is how you came to be with the Galadhrim," Fearfaron gently
guided this suddenly and surprisingly vulnerable elf back on course.
"The adversity I experienced is similar to that clouding Orophin's
past, that is where I am trying to lead you," another sigh escaped
Erestor. "And that is where this becomes a confidential subject, for
who am I to share with you, one unknown to him, Orophin's woes and the
tribulations that mar his innermost feelings?"
"Ah, I see! Very well, that is fair enough. Let me try and relieve you
of the burden. Is it close to the mark to state that Orophin is
troubled by ideas of guilt and self-doubt similar to those you have
suffered?"
"It is, but no more will I say."
"That is enough, for I am cognisant of the events that orphaned the
Lorien warden and his brothers. Indeed, I lost relatives in that
terrible struggle with Durin's Bane. The three siblings were quite
young then and none expected them to be able to prevent the deaths of
their loved ones. Thus I deduce that you were of proximal age when the
same tragedy struck you."
"You are astute, carpenter!" Erestor's surprise was genuine and he
could only stare at this forest elf. It was easy to discern now how his
influence had been of aid to Legolas, who was even more reticent over
revealing self-perceived flaws and the traumatic events that had
spawned them.
"So Orophin recognised himself in you and this drew you together. He
accepted you, failings and secrets and flaws notwithstanding,"
Fearfaron went on.
And yet no healing occurred, at least not for
Erestor.
"Aye. And we discovered a mutual attraction. Dambethnîn is not
blind; she probably foresaw its development before we did. Had she not
intervened we would have buried that secret just as thoroughly as the
dark despair of our youthful pusillanimity. She was willing to try and
what began as diversion grew to be loving union, for all of us."
"Hannad, Erestor, for your honesty. Do not ever doubt the strength of
your integrity again, for it required great fortitude to speak of these
events with a veritable stranger. I am fully aware you did this for
Legolas' peace of mind, and that comforts me.
"Yet there remains the conditions of your bond with the Galadhrim. It
has been brought to my attention that you wear no signs of this union.
Was no formality granted to your position within the triad?"
Erestor shifted uncomfortably in his chair and fell to fidgeting with
the cup still held within his fingers. Here was the part least likely
to meet with this upright edhel's approval.
"Yes and no," he began evasively and glanced into the Spirit Hunter's
eyes. He found only patience and an open mind revealed there and
mustered his mettle to go on. "They are officially bonded and spoke
their vows and named the One. Yet I was reluctant to undergo this rite,
for it felt like a diminishment of the honour of their union. I did not
wish them to be made objects of ridicule or be named deviants." He
stopped for Fearfaron was slowly shaking his head.
"That is what you said to them and that is what you tell yourself, yet
clearly these reasons are illogical. To me you will say what is true,
for I will not have Legolas treated any less than equally in this
unique relationship."
The Imladrian noble was silent for several minutes as the silvan
craftsman held his gaze and waited. Finally Erestor pulled a grimace of
foul proportions and growled in vexation.
"I felt cheated!" he snapped. "Why did I not deserve to be the one and
only recipient of such promises and oaths? Orophin found
Dambethnîn, now he has me as well. Where is the equanimity in
that?" Erestor returned the goblet to the table with such force that
the quiet winter air rang with the echo of the loud report.
"So you kept a large measure of your heart and soul free, hoping for
Iluvatar to give you such a gift," the Spirit Hunter was actually
chuckling, just a little, over his guest's impassioned admission, but
his smile was kind and he patted the refugee's hand. "Clever elf! Long
have you waited, but not without the comfort needed to sustain you."
"I am…you are not shocked?" Erestor blinked twice as he registered what
seemed to be a strangely pleased expression upon the woodland elf's
face.
"I have lived millennia, as have you," Fearfaron shrugged. "Your
solution to sorrow and lonesomeness is less despicable than others'
choices have been. Your Lord comes at once to mind and Maltahondo's
treachery is also rooted in yearning for what he could not possess,
solely and unconditionally.
"None have been injured by your compromise and it is clear the Lorien
elves were never in the dark over your activities. They certainly
realise what portion of your heart they hold as well as the places in
your feä wherein they are not allowed entry."
"But nay; never have I spoken of this except as I just indicated. They
think I belong wholly to them and that it is only for their sake that I
do not demand full legitimacy of my station; that it is only for
physical release that I share myself with others."
"When in truth you have been seeking your heart's companion in every
elf you have pursued. That is what you do not want them to find out,
yet I suspect you will discover they are not ignorant of these facts."
Erestor swallowed and this time did not wait for his host to offer the
wine. He poured it liberally and filled Fearfaron's glass as well. As
soon as he had taken a gulp he realised he was remarkably lightened in
spirit and found a smile spreading across his features. He nodded at
last to confirm the wily carpenter's conclusion, one that Erestor had
hidden even from himself.
And if Pen-bara and Pen-raun know, then
all
will be forgiven. I shall not be disgraced nor shall they.
"And I have been given this blessing in Legolas," he stated. "He is
mine alone. I will not do anything to hurt Orophin and
Dambethnîn, but neither will I give up Pen-rhovan. If they cannot
honour my bond as I respect theirs, then they shall see me no more,
much though it will pain me to lose the love and comfort I find with
them."
"I am pleased to hear such conviction in your voice. Legolas has
granted you sole access to his heart and deserves no less than to hold
the foremost place within yours. You are willing, then, to speak your
vow once more and place upon his hand your ring? And in turn to bear
his token proudly and openly for all to see, evermore?"
Now the seneschal displayed almost the same look of confused amazement
that Legolas had showed his father previously, and nearly identical
objections sputtered out from Erestor's addled brain.
"This I would do, yet I have no ring to give, nor have I discussed any
of this with Pen-rhovan! I know not if he wishes such."
"Such articles can be purchased." Fearfaron waved all that aside with a
carefree slap of his hand upon the Noldo's shoulder. "And Legolas, as
you may have noticed, is unabashedly romantic. The ring for his beloved
I am sure was chosen many centuries ago, but I doubt that is the one he
will give to you. Nay, it will be something special and, before you
enquire, the answer is 'no'. I have not had time to ask him about this,
but am confident his mind is now fully employed on the procuring of
this object.
"I will show you a ring you may like, or not, the choice will be left
to you. But I would be pleased for you to take the golden band given to
Annaldír by his mate, and Legolas would be moved by such an
offering. And no matter where you find it, he will wear your pledge
upon his finger as willingly as he sports that passion-mark he has been
showing off!"
Now Erestor fairly puffed up in pride to hear this and grinned with
lascivious verve, thinking of that delicious spot on his Pen-rhovan's
elegant throat. He was immediately overcome with the desire to go to
him, a sharp stab of pining joined by a jolt of fiery libido raced
though his nerves, sending his heart thumping loudly as his breath
caught.
A shrewd smile passed over the carpenter's face and he stood, motioning
for his guest to do likewise. He draped a companionable arm across
Erestor's shoulders as he guided him to the opening in the floorboards.
"This can wait another day. Lindalcon will take you where your soul
longs to be," he said happily and was not surprised when the Noldo
departed with no more than a hasty farewell and a wave of his hand, not
even stopping to beseech the loan of a pair of shoes.
TBC.
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