The elf's name was Vanadil, from the Third Host of Minyar. And he was dead.
Beside him there was another one. And another one. And another one...
Ingwion looked at bodies lying in lines in front of him. His two aides were standing behind him, motionless and soundless.
The first battle was finished and now came the time to mourn. The time Minyar had wished to never come upon them - to see their beloved ones lifeless.
"This isn't even our war," someone whispered. The place where they were was away from the battlefield and from Noldor and Sindar who were on the shore, singing a lament for their dead friends.
Vanyar, those who were considered to be the best singers, were still silent, standing around their dead kinsmen as if they wanted to defend them from others' sight.
"He haven't done anything to us…" said someone else.
"Now he did," Minyaner, Ingwion's aide, spoke. "Now his servants killed our kinsmen."
"Because we have come here," the warrior shook his head. "We've never been his enemies, we…" his voice broke and he started to cry. His sister, standing beside him, embraced him protectively.
The prince was silent, looking into pale, cold Vanadil's eyes. His other aide, Hallawen, rested her hand on his shoulder.
"My lord, please. Speak to them. They need you."
Ingwion looked up. He couldn't help those who had died, but he had his duties as the leader of Minyarin army. He could cry later, while he will be alone. He was their leader and couldn't allow them to see his weakness - it would disturb them even more.
"It… This… Is very..." he started and licked his lips. The one who always had his way with words, now was not sure what he should tell them. "Our friends are in Mandos now."
They've faced the enemy today. They've 've survived this battle - but not all of them. It was his fault and he knew about it. He should not have brought them here to die. They've made a decision to come here, to fight the Dark One. The Minya was wrong - it was their war, even if they didn't start it.
It was Noldor who started this, one specific Noldorin prince who was spending too much time in his forge and not enough time with his family. He started it and now they, Ingwion and Arafinwe, were here to stop it, to wash the darkness from this land with the blood of their beloved ones.