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A Tale to tell.

There he came. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. The presence of an Elf of such station and charisma was unnerving, even to her. And even more so because of his business here.

His greeting was, as always, elaborate yet familiar. This particularity of the locals here had not yet ceased to irritate her. They were confusing, always using a waterfall of words where they could have done with few, and still never keeping the polite distances between strangers she had been brought up with.

Then he surprised her with his eagerness, by coming straight to business.

"Will you come tonight,young one?"

"I really fail to understand why the telling of a tale so insignificant as mine should take place in such a solemn surrounding, and before such an audience, Mylord. I cannot help but find that it will fail to entertain you."

"Insignificant as it may seem in comparison with its contemporaries, it is nevertheless a story. For us here, who have seen the end of all songs and stories several yéni ago, it will provide not only entertainment, but also a matter of scholarly interest. Not all of us have lost interest in the East, as you seem to think. Moreover, is it not time you start considering it a thing of the past, and allow it to be discussed freely in your presence? Telling a sad tale often helps to soothe the pain of it, as many newly arrived here have discovered."

"It is not a sad one, Mylord. At least not entirely. It was joyous, even exhilarating on many occasions. I have no desire to leave it behind me entirely, as many from Beleriand seem to have done with their experiences."

"Then share it, and never have it forgotten, for as long as Arda will exist. And do not compare yourself to the martyrs of the First Age, young one. You do not have scars to show for such a comparison."

"I did not intend to. My apologies."

Two ages of continuous peace had not yet healed the wounds within his family. Even the mention of the ancient lands of suffering was enough to spark off his ire, as many younger returnees had had to find out the hard way.

"Accepted. Now, what say you to my request?"

"I will come, but not tomorrow. Give me time to think about the matter. I would like to put it to writing before the telling."

"As you wish. Time is something we here have in near endless supply. Goodnight, youg one."

"Goodnight, Mylord."

As he closed the door behind him, she watched the unique colour of the setting sun through the high window. The nearness of a full moon added a silver quality to its light. It made the colours of the drawings in the book before her seem livelier than they had ever looked in the old lands. At first, she had considered the vividness of the colours a property of Valinorean inks and pigments. It was only when she unpacked her books and scrolls from home -no, not home any more- she realised it was the light. 'It makes things look like they were meant to', her thirty-year-old daughter had said.

She had not yet decided whether she could agree with the child.