To Dream - Ch26: And the Winds Come

A/N: (Important!) I need to explain something about how I used to perceive elven aging. Since writing a good part of this story I have learned elves reach their maturity at the age of fifty. However, when I first began writing this story I was under the impression (having encountered this idea in several other stories I had read) that elves reached adulthood at the age of one thousand. I know, that's way off, and I should have taken the time to find out the facts before I went on with the story. But I didn't, and now I'm stuck with it. The way I view my characters is very dependent on how I thought that elves aged, and since my characters are already so fleshed out I can't just change everything at this point. So, for this story you'll just have to accept my vision of the world. Elves reach adulthood at one thousand, and in my mind they don't really become "middle-aged" until they're around six thousand years old. If I write another LotR story I will correct this fallacy, but for now you'll have to put up with it.

Chapter 25.) And the Wind Comes

I want to die while you love me,
While yet you hold me fair,
While laughter lies upon my lips,
And lights are in my hair.

- Georgia Douglas Johnson

Recap: Four days since the last chapter. Elrohir is still in Lothlórien. Elrohir has realized that he loves Nessúlë. Kallindo and Oloriel have come to something of a truce.

There was nothing quite like walking beneath the great mellyrn while the moon in its shimmering radiance bathed the wood in a soft silver glow. Aloft in the air, Quiet herself seemed to be lying, suspended in slumber - unguarded, careless, peaceful. Only the most troubled hearts could long resist the gentle, melodic sound of her breathing as it hushed all of the raucous sounds of the day into nothingness. It has been said many times before, and will undoubtedly be said many times again, that the Wood is a place of deep, throbbing enchantment, and so it is. A place where time looses its meaning, and no one, either young or old, cares to find it again. A place immersed in serenity.

Elrohir breathed deeply the heavy-scented air of the forest as he made his way slowly beneath the hanging leaves. This was his last night in Lothlórien. He would be departing for Imladris in the morning, and he wanted to imprint this place freshly on his mind. The Golden Wood had been his mother's childhood home, and he himself had spent many a happy time there. It was a place of abundant memory, and one which he always regretted leaving behind. Even more so, now that she resided here as well.

Elrohir shook his head slowly and reached out to graze his hand along the smooth bark of a nearby mallorn. He paused in his walk to let the feel of the surrounding life wash over him and calm his ruffled thoughts. After a few moments he continued on, letting the small trail pass away beneath his feet. He was following one of his favorite walks. Eventually it would lead into a clearing where he could gaze unhindered at the sky above.

In a few minutes the glade came into view. Elrohir's pace quickened slightly as he hastened out into the clear moonlight. It was only after he had taken several steps into the small meadow that he realized he was not alone.

"Pardon me, I did not mean to intrude upon your privacy," Elrohir spoke to the shadowy figure.

The elf, for so it was, had been facing mostly away from Elrohir, but turned at his words. "It is no matter. All are welcome here."


Kallindo stepped into the moonlight then and confirmed Elrohir's suspicion. "Yes, my lord, it is I."

Elrohir didn't know what to say at first. Their last encounter had been rather awkward.

"You were not called back to patrol at the border?" he eventually questioned.

"No, it was not needed. However, I will be returning in the morn."

"Ah, then perhaps we will be among the same company. I too am travelling out at first light."

Kallindo nodded softly. "I and my companions will most likely act as your escort, then. At least as far as the border, that is."

"Naturally," Elrohir agreed.

There was another pause. Both had good reason to be curious about the other, but neither one seemed to know where to start. Kallindo was the first one to break the silence, falling back on protocol.

"I must apologize for my behavior the last time we met. I was... agitated. I did not mean to give any offense."

Elrohir waved the apology aside. "It has already been forgiven. I know something of what you were going through, so I cannot wholly blame you."

Kallindo stared pointedly at Elrohir. "You do?"

"Aye. Though she didn't tell me much, she said enough for me to puzzle it out."

Kallindo raised his eyebrows in mild surprise but decided not to reply. He turned his attention back to the star-studded sky, the purpose for his being there in the first place. Elladan did not interrupt his reverie.

Several minutes past before the silence was broken, once again, by Kallindo. "So, Peredhel {title: half-elf}, this brother of yours... does he deserve her?"

Elrohir smiled and shot back, "Do you deserve her?"

The other elf let his eyes wander lazily down from the sky. "No, I suppose not. No true lover would ever think he deserved the object of his affections. But you know what I really meant." He turned to face Elrohir again, only this time there seemed to be a little more life in his eyes. "I have made my peace with Oloriel, but that does not mean that I relinquish all of my rights. If he fails her, I will come for him."

Elrohir laughed. The sound split the silence that had hung heavily around them and echoed carelessly between the trees. "I shall be sure to tell him of your promise. But," his voice dropped into a more serious strain, "do not be overly anxious. Elladan is one of the most honorable elves I have known. He is steadfast and true, kind and brave, and his heart is good. It may not be of much comfort for you in the end, but he will take care of her." He held Kallindo's gaze for several moments before continuing. "And if he doesn't, you and I shall both take him to task."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kallindo's mouth. Suppressing it, he nodded brusquely and replied. "Aye, we shall... we shall indeed."


"I have no talent for this, I am afraid." Nessúlë looked forlornly at the half-woven basket in front of her. It had the approximate shape that a basket should, but it was somewhat uncouth and rather disproportional. The elleth sighed and tossed her meager work to the other side of the room.

Despite the Lady's commands to rest for a time, Nessúlë had been determined to at least begin exploring options for employment. Her father had been of a lordly status in Mithlond and so, while she had never felt herself above purposeful labor, she had not been raised up in a particular craft. Lantél was at least a warrior, and could easily attain a post in the guard, but she felt herself rather adrift. This meant that she had spent the last few days experimenting. She had already known that she couldn't cook or properly fletch an arrow, and now, after two days she also knew that she had little to offer in the areas of cloth weaving, carving, or basketry.

Oloriel, who had sat across from her as she plied the coarse fibers of her weaving, simply laughed as the half-finished basket came flying her way. "Of course not, you've probably never tried to make one before in your life. You cannot expect to be a master at it."

"I know, I know. But I feel like it is too late to start from scratch. If only there was something that I showed a little promise in."

Oloriel's hand paused in mid-stitch. She was again attempting to mend some of her clothing, and had been sitting there with needle and thread in hand since supper ended. "What about a seamstress? Have you any talent with the needle?"

Nessúlë cocked her head to one side and considered the question. "I did learn to embroider when I was younger. And now that I think on it, I was rather good at it, only at the time I was more interested in swordplay and the fighting arts, so it rather bored me. But perhaps my hands still remember a few things."

Oloriel smiled brilliantly. "If your hands can remember how to do this, my poor, pin-pricked hands will be eternally grateful."

Both elleths laughed at this remark as Oloriel handed over her bundle of cloth, thread, and needle. Their merriment was cut short as Írima stepped into the room with an exasperated look adorning her face.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Oloriel and Nessúlë looked at each other than back at Írima. "No, I am afraid we don't. But now that you mention it, I suppose it must be rather late. Are we keeping you up?"

Írima sighed dramatically, "No, but I am a little worried for the baby. Nimfallë and I are the ones who have to deal with her when she awakes in the night, so you two had better not wake her up with your jabber."

Oloriel smiled innocently, "We wouldn't dare. Now come, sit with us and talk - you can keep a better eye on us that way."

Írima hesitated for a moment.

"Yes, do," joined in Nessúlë, "I can tell by the sound of his breathing that Nimfallë is already asleep in the other room, so you might as well stay with us by the fire."

Írima acquiesced to their pleas and took up a place in a low chair by the hearth.

"Actually, now that I think on it, I'm glad that you invited me to join you, for there has been a question plaguing my mind which I believe you can answer." She looked pointedly at Oloriel to signify who the "you" was.

Oloriel tilted her head in thought, a slightly confused expression passing across her face. But, after a moment of silence, her eyes widened almost imperceptibly and she straightened up.

"Whatever are you talking about?" she inquired with feigned artlessness.

Írima just shook her head. "You know very well what I mean, mellon nín {my friend}, and you've been avoiding the issue since my niece and nephew arrived. At first I wanted to wait until we could speak privately, but you keep inventing excuses to get away from me. I have you cornered now, and there's nowhere to run. You might as well speak."

Nessúlë looked up from her new task in puzzlement. "What are you talking about nanethêl {aunt}?"

Írima smiled slyly. "I'm talking about a certain conversation that took place the night you arrived, thêliel {niece}. Elrohir relayed a rather warm greeting from his brother to Oloriel and then Kallindo temporarily lost his manners."

"Oh yes, I remember now. That was rather strange."

"All I want to know," Írima continued, turning her gaze upon her somewhat uncomfortable friend, "is everything you've been hiding from me."

Nessúlë grinned. "Mmm... sounds entertaining."

Oloriel gulped and sank back into her chair. Two pairs of inquisitive, unmerciful eyes were bearing down upon her, and there didn't seem to be any way of escape. It looked like this was going to turn into a very long night.

"Very well," Oloriel gave in, "It all began... while I was sleeping."


Oloriel wrapped the blanket more tightly around her and sighed contentedly. It had actually felt quite good to get all that out, even though it had been rather hard to begin. The secret had been enjoyable, but she was strangely relieved by the fact that she would now have someone to talk to about it.

Írima sat silently, watching the fire as she let everything sink in. Oloriel had had much to say, and with all of the interruptions, retellings, and explanations which normally occur when excited females are talking, the tale had taken quite some time. The night was old, and yet she still felt wide-awake.

"My..." she finally whispered.

Nessúlë nodded slowly. "Aye, that about sums it up."

Oloriel could not help but giggle at their stunned expressions. "It is quite an extraordinary story, is it not? Someone should write it down one day."

The other two slowly nodded, but did not speak.


"Aha!" Oloriel cried, "That's it."

The other two elleths jumped perceptibly.

"Oloriel, the baby!" Írima chided in a fierce whisper.

Oloriel shrugged. At least she had gotten them to speak - that was something.

"What's it?" Nessúlë inquired.

Oloriel smirked cheekily. "I have found a profession for you. You could be a writer of lore and fable and sell story books to children."

Nessúlë looked as though she would like to have thrown another half-made basket at Oloriel, but since there weren't any within arm's reach she refrained.

"Dear, you may not have noticed, but there are about three children under the age of five hundred in Caras Galadhon. I think I would run out of business rather quickly."

Oloriel shrugged merrily. "Well, you didn't say you actually wanted to make any money."

Oloriel didn't have time to duck before a pillow came hurling through the air and collided with her chest.


The next morning Nessúlë, Oloriel, and Írima stood together in a clearing where several horses were being fitted for travel. They were there to say good-bye to Elrohir. Lantél and Alarkelú were also there, but they were helping to strap down several saddlebags. It was expected that the Lord and Lady would arrive soon as well, to bid their grandson farewell.

"Have you ever been outside of the Wood?" inquired Nessúlë of Oloriel.

"Aye, once." Oloriel breathed softly. "But the journey was not far. When my father set out to depart for Valinor I rode with him several leagues past the border, but was then sent back. I saw the Hithaeglir* and away down south, looking like a dark mist, I saw the northern reaches of Fangorn. I wish that I had seen more, now. Indeed, I do envy you somewhat, Nessúlë. You have seen many things. For more than two thousand years I have lived, and yet I still feel like a child to Middle Earth. But, that is the way of Elves. We do not weary of a place quickly, and my heart is still in love with this wood. It is my home."

"And a very beautiful one it is," Nessúlë replied. "I believe that I shall grow to love it as well. But do not envy me so. We all have our own paths. Perhaps one day yours will lead you to many places, whether you will or no."

Oloriel nodded silently in agreement. Just then another elf walked out of the stables that were nearby, leading his own chestnut stallion to add to the company.

Oloriel broke away from her companions and went up to him.

"Mae aur, Kallindo {good morning}. How are you?"

Kallindo offered her a small smile. "I am well, Aiwë. And you?"

"Oh, fine enough. Do you ride out on patrol?"

"I do. I shall be out for three weeks with Orophin and his brothers."

"You go to the western border then?"

"Aye, we will watch the mountain. It should be a relatively routine task. There has not been much activity there of late."

Oloriel nodded. "Well, take care anyway." She touched his forehead lightly and spoke a traditional Elven blessing: "Varnië tulka ohtar, i'Valar varya lye {Be safe, strong warrior, the Valar protect you}."

Kallindo bowed in thanks and Oloriel went back to her companions. When she stood again at Nessúlë's side the other maiden leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, "Now that is another story I would like to hear. I believe that Kallindo was a little jealous of Elladan. Why is that? Have you another admirer?"

Oloriel sighed. "That is a story that will remain untold for now. All you need know is that Kallindo and I are trying to restore our past friendship. He is resigned and will heal in time."

Nessúlë obligingly suppressed her curiosity on the point and turned to bid Elrohir, who was walking up to them, a fond farewell.

"I am sorry to see you go so soon. You have been a true friend and I will not forget it." Nessúlë spoke with a clear, friendly voice.

Elrohir's eye held a wistful look but he spoke with a light enough air that it could be easily over-looked. "And I shall not forget you, lady. Especially since I have yet to repay your last caper at my expense."

Nessúlë laughed merrily. After the incident with the mud on the first day of their journey, Nessúlë and Elrohir had continued to mischievously plague each other all the way to Lothlórien. Nessúlë, however, had obtained the last laugh.

"I shall have to keep my wits about me then. Who knows when you might appear to douse me with a bucket of water or put frogs in my bed?"

At this statement, Oloriel too laughed. "Aren't we a little old for frogs? I'm sure that you could come up with something better than that, Elrohir."

Elrohir shrugged. "Well, I shall try to think of something - I will have the time. I do not know when we shall all meet again. Times grow dark and the road is dangerous. I shall miss you both."

Oloriel's eyes brightened with an idea. "Well, since Nessúlë has yet to find an occupation, perhaps she will find the time to write to you... for the both of us. Her hand is steady and her wit is quick. I'm sure that she will be able to come up with many entertaining anecdotes to remind you of your friends in the Golden Wood."

There was a fraction of a moment when Elrohir's gaze locked with Oloriel's and a quick understanding passed between the two. It seemed that Oloriel the Matchmaker was on the job once again.

Elrohir smiled and shook his head slightly. "I should enjoy that... very much."

Nessúlë, as oblivious as ever to the romantic undercurrents surrounding her, did not object to the idea. Why should she not correspond with her friend? Others might frown upon that fact that he was, after all, a very eligible young man of high status and renown, but Nessúlë was not one to cower under the displeasure of others.

As they were speaking, Celeborn and Galadriel had arrived, walking hand in hand as was their wont.

Seeing them, Nessúlë placed a quick, innocent kiss on Elrohir's cheek and whispered sincerely, "May we meet again on these shores, mellon nín." She then backed away, allowing the Lord and Lady some privacy with their kin.

After a few minutes Elrohir and his grandparents parted. He mounted his horse, and the rest of the company, consisting of six other elves, followed his example. With one last lingering gaze, Elrohir raised his hand and spoke.

"Aen i'Valar ortiria le pân. Namárië! {May the Valar watch over you all. Farewell!}." His eyes flitted briefly toward Nessúlë, then he turned his horse and was gone.


Kallindo did not pay much attention as his horse ambled on behind the horse in front. They had passed by Cerin Amroth several hours before and were now not far from where the company of guards would cross the Celebrant and depart the Naith of Lorien*. They had pressed on for much of their journey, but now, as at other times along the way, they let their horses set the pace, walking gently through the soft, fragrant grasses.

Conversation had been light. Kallindo had exchanged a few words with Rúmil, who was of the party, and also with Elrohir, but was now silent. His mind was mulling over many things. His life had changed so much in the past weeks and months, and it seemed as though he was now just waking from a dream, trying to rub the mist from his eyes.

He had had several brief encounters with Oloriel since their last emotional conversation. The friendship was still slightly tentative, but it was on the mend. And Kallindo was determined that it should be so. He was resolved to rise above his own grief, and not to taint her happiness with his own despair.

There is something to be said for resolution. A heart that is set upon a goal and strives for it with determination will not wilt so easily as one that is adrift. Of course, this is not to say that there will be no struggle, no indeed. Kallindo's spirit was still in many ways a charred wasteland. There were seeds lying in the ground, waiting for rain, but at present they remained hidden below the earth, hiding their greenness away.

The company halted, breaking Kallindo out of his reverie. Elrohir intended to take the High Pass across the Hithaeglir, and so would not cross to the southern shores of the Celebrant along with the others. As Kallindo caught up on the conversation he realized that Elrohir had decided to part with them before they reached the river crossing. One other of the company, a message rider, would go with him, as it was not wise to travel alone.

"Thank you for your company," Elrohir spoke to all of them. "I bid you all farewell. May your guard be a safe one, and filled with most uneventful watching." He smirked cheekily.

Everyone chuckled quietly. It was the age-old difficulty with patrolling. One could never decided whether it was more appealing to be bored out of your mind or to rest under the tense cloak of danger.

"And farewell to you, lord Elrohir," Rúmil spoke up, "May your journey be free of fear and may a never-ending vista of gray rocks and dry grasslands attend you."

Elrohir bowed with exaggerated movements. "Thank you for your concern, Rúmil. It warms my heart."

Moments later, the two elves departed. Kallindo watched Elrohir's retreating form with mixed feelings. They had spoken for some time the night before and Kallindo had developed a healthy respect for the dark-haired Peredhel. And yet, at the same time, this elf reminded him most of what he had lost. Kallindo shook his head to rid himself of these gloomy thoughts. `Enough brooding,' he thought wryly, `Come back to yourself, Kallindo.'

He took his self-admonition to heart and, as the company went on its way again, he turned to the elf beside him a struck up a rather lively conversation.


-The Next Night-

"Do you hear that?" Orophin whispered.

"Aye, `tis the Song of Nimrodel," Kallindo replied, "And a fair voice sings it. One of the travelers must be of our kin."

Haldir sat tensely on the edge of the flet, listening to their words. "And it is well for the others that it should be so. I would not otherwise tolerate the waters of the Nimrodel to be thus polluted."

"Shall we accost them now, or wait for them to come nearer?" Rúmil inquired.

Haldir thought for a moment. "We shall wait, I think. Kallindo, go to the other flet and tell Haldayúla to keep his guard, but not to attempt an approach. He is often over-anxious."

Kallindo saluted with a fist over his heart then departed quick and silent as a shadow.


The Fellowship was seeking a refuge for the night, afraid that the orcs of Moria might have the audacity to follow them into the forest. It was decided upon that they should seek safety in the trees. Legolas, he of the company who was most at home among the trees, went first, leaping up and grasping hold of the nearest bough. What he did not know was that this particular tree was already inhabited.

"Daro! {Halt!}"

Kallindo watched with amusement from his nearby perch as the elf let go of the tree in surprise. Haldir did have that affect on people. He continued to watch as Haldir had a quick conversation with the foreigners and then invited the elf and one of the small people to ascend into the tree. Kallindo eyed the remaining travelers with curiosity. There seemed to be four other of the small people... wait, no... the fourth was -

"They've brought a filthy dwarf with them!" he hissed under his breath.

Haldayúla screwed up his face in similar disgust. "Well, I'll wager Haldir won't let that one get far."


"...and this is Gimli son of Glóin."

Kallindo eyed the dwarf suspiciously but did his best to remain aloof and courteous. He couldn't imagine why Haldir had agreed to this, but he would abide by the Marchwarden's decision.

Haldayúla spoke up. "Aragorn... that name it known in these woods. You are the foster son of Elrond, yes?"

Aragorn bowed his head in acknowledgement. This turned Kallindo's attention from the dwarf to the man.

"Then you would know Elrohir and Elladan quite well I imagine."

"Yes," Aragorn replied, "We have been through much together, though it has been sometime since I have spent any amount of time with them. The days are unsettled."

"You will be sorry, then, to hear that Elrohir departed the Golden Wood just yesterday."

Legolas, who had been listening to the conversation with half an ear, frowned slightly at these words. He would like to have seen his old friend.

Aragorn's countenance took on a puzzled look. "Indeed I am sorry, but... only Elrohir? I have never known him to go anywhere without his brother. What could have forced them apart I wonder?"

Kallindo did not have an answer for that, so he remained silent. It was at this moment that the dwarf decided to make his unwelcome presence felt. Up to this point the conversation had been carried on entirely in a form of Elvish, and Gimli was not too pleased with this circumstance.

"Why don't you speak in a language we can all understand?" he grumbled irritably.

Kallindo, Haldayúla, and Legolas all seemed to sigh on cue, and pin the dwarf down with their blank stares. Aragorn just shook his head, then intervened.

"We said nothing of consequence, Master Dwarf. But come, the time for conversation has passed. We must all try to get some rest now."

Some most unnatural rumblings and grunts came out of the dwarf then, which, according to the general opinion, signified his disgruntled resignation.


It was not many hours later when the orcs came. Trampling noisily across the Nimrodel and sniffing the air for their prey. They had come from the mountains, but if everything went as planned, never again would they return there. Orophin and Kallindo led them deeper into the forest, luring them with feigned voices away from the sleeping fellowship. They would alert the city and bring a contingent of Galadhrim to snuff out the threat before they had time to do any damage. All would be well again by morning.

At least, that was the plan.


Oloriel sat nervously atop her gray mare, scanning the area for any signs of movement. Orophin had come into the city an hour before to muster aid in driving out the orcish threat, and as was the general practice, healers were sent out to flank them, in case aid was needed quickly. Oloriel's flet had been near and so she was called. Although she had armed herself, a guard had also been assigned to protect her. He too was mounted, waiting anxiously for a sound or movement. For some time the noise of battle had been heard: clanging metal, flying arrows, and the mangled cries of orcs. But now all was silence.

Oloriel motioned to her escort and nudged her horse forward. After a few minutes they began to pass by fallen bodies, all of them orcs. There was no sign of any elves until they made it through a particularly heavy clump of brush and trees. They came out into a clearing and saw three elves standing on the other side, talking and whispering. Even as they appeared one of the elves ran off, as if on an errand. Lying between Oloriel and the remaining two elves was a carpet of dead orcs - at least a score of them, all bloodied and sight-less.

Oloriel turned her head away and closed her eyes for a moment. The scene was certainly not a pleasant one. When she opened them again, she looked up and addressed the elves across the way.

"I am a healer, do you know if my assistance is needed?"

The elf who wasn't already facing her turned around and she realized happily that it was Kallindo, looking well and unscathed. He began walking toward her, carefully weaving his way through the fallen bodies.

"I do not know," he replied, "We attempted to force the orcs to divide, driving small parties off in different directions. All I know of are these orcs and the men who came with me. I suggest that you ride on to find more information, but... be careful, Aiwë, they may not all be dead yet."

As Kallindo spoke these last words he stood but a few feet away from her. Close enough so that she could easily see every detail of his shocked visage when an orc, hidden beneath his fellows, rose up from the ground and hurled a small spike through Kallindo's abdomen.

The world seemed to freeze. Kallindo looked at the sharp metal protruding from his stomach with disbelief, but did not move otherwise. Oloriel tried to scream, but her throat closed up and not a sound could she make.

In their moment of indecision the orc struck again, lashing out at Kallindo's leg with his jagged knife. This action brought the whole world back into movement. Kallindo instantly fell to his knee, and almost simultaneously, three arrows pierced the orc, one from each elf left standing.

With frantic movements Oloriel tumbled from her horse and knelt down beside Kallindo, who was crumpled, though not yet prostrate on the ground. She tried to think what to do. The world was spinning and she was having trouble focusing. She wanted to scream and cry and pound the earth, but instead she lifted up a silent prayer to the heavens and went to work. She called to her escort and told him to support Kallindo while she prepared to dislodge the spike. She pulled down her bag from the horse and retrieved every piece of cloth she had. There would be much blood, but she didn't think that the fetid weapon should remain in his body. Finally, with slightly shaking hands, Oloriel wrapped the sharp metal end in several rags and pulled with all her strength. The shaft came out cleanly. Oloriel thank the Valar for that. It could have been much, much worse. The small spear could have torn an organ right from his body - then all would certainly have been lost.

Oloriel went to work trying to stop up the blood and preserve Kallindo's body with the healing chants. To this day she does not remember much of what happened during that time. It was as a nightmare, and this time, Elladan was not there to rescue her.


"Ai..wë..." Kallindo attempted to speak but his body was convulsing slightly and his speech as broken.

"Shh, do not speak, you must not speak," Oloriel urged him. She had finished binding his wounds, but Kallindo was still not out of danger. There was no way to know just what had been damaged, no way to see inside of him. All she could do was continue to whisper the chants, and hope that the herbs inside his bandages would have some affect on the bleeding.

"But... I have to tell you," he began again, but didn't have the strength.

"No, do not... you do not...have to tell me anything... lie still." Oloriel could hardly speak for herself, as tears began to stream down her face.

Several moments later, Kallindo tried to speak yet again. "Úcarnîr...úcarnîr, aewtithen nín... {Do not weep... do not weep, my little bird...}" He winced with some hidden pain, and took a few moments to catch his breath before continuing, "Cuino... cuino mae... mela e... {Live... live well... love him...}"

Kallindo closed his eyes and did not speak again as unconsciousness overtook him. Oloriel kissed his brow softly and folded her arms around his body. She could still feel his faint breath fanning against her neck but hope was fleeing from her heart, for she did not know how much longer he would last.


1. Hithaeglir = Misty Mountains

2. Naith of Lorien: The "arrow-head" of land between the Celebrant and the Anduin. It's kind of like Lothlórien Proper - the place where few strangers are permitted to enter. See Haldir's description of it in FotR: Book II: Chapter VI: Lothlórien

Things to Know:

Oloriel: "dream daughter"
Aiwë: "small bird"
Kallindo: "noble heard"
Nessúlë: "young spirit"
Lantél: "falling star"
Alarkelú: "swift stream"
Haldayúla: "hidden ember"

elleth: she-elf
Peredhel: half-elf
mae aur: good morning
mellon: friend

nanethêl = literally, "mother-sister" = "naneth + thêl"

thêliel = literally, "sister-daughter" = "thêl + iel"

Varn-ië tulka ohtar, i'Valar varya lye = literally, "Safe-be strong warrior, the-Valar protect you" --- varna = "safe", ië (suffix) = "be"

Aen i'Valar or-tiria le pân. Namárië = literally, "May (it be) the-Valar over-watch you all. Farwell

Ú-car-nîr, aew-tithen nín... cuino mae, mela e = "Not-do-weep, bird-little my... live well, love he" --- sorry, but there doesn't seem to be a Sindarin pronoun for "him"

***Results of the third "Win a Random Cute Elf" Raffle***

1st place goes to... aidana
You get your very own.... *drum roll* ... Haldir!!! Yes, that's right. I couldn't find any other unsuspecting available Elven male, so you get the Golden Wood's finest Marchwarden. Take care of him now, he's a sensitive guy. ,_~

2nd place goes to... BanuiRochon
You get your very own four day, VIP vacation package to the Hot Springs of Imladris! Enjoy your stay, and makes sure you get one of the Swedish messages (or is that Sindarin?) = P

3rd place goes to... Telumiel
You get to take home a Palantír Disco Ball! Sorry I couldn't get it to you before the New Year. *shrugs* Next time you throw a party this little tasty is sure to give the atmosphere a little extra excitement.

There ya go folks... and e-cookies to everyone who reviewed within the first 48 hrs. of posting. You know who you are... and so do I... thanks bunches you guys!!!

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