Once over the path between the mountains they headed north, turning a little to the east and following the line of the forest. Amongst the Silvan contingent now there were quiet, private discussions to the road home; having converted their goods to currency, they could easily abandon the train and go home through their forest, along the Forest River, a much shorter route, and then disperse to their individual settlements which were mostly in the south of the Greenwood.

'But what of you, Arradis, Orobenon?' one asked.

'Do not make your choices based on ours,' Arradis said. 'We will stay with Vayne, for now. There are three days before you need to decide which route to take. Besides, we have an agreement with the Man.'

Later, when Thorion was sleeping in the back of the wagon, Arradis took her husband's hand and led him into the darkness, seeking a private place to talk.

'The reason my sight fails is not because I will quicken,' she said. 'It is because my foresight stops.'

'I thought as much,' Orobenon said. 'For all the talk, for all the practice...'

Here, Arradis smiled and blushed.

'...For all that, we did not ask for the gift of another elfling. So how could there be one? But, beloved wife...'

'I know, now, why it stops. Because, my dear, I believe I stop.'

'No...'

'Yes. And there is nothing to be done about it; if we go into the forest, I still stop. A little later, a day or so, but the same thing happens.'

'What of our kin? Ought we to send them into the woods? Will that protect them?'

'Not that I can see. But if we are together, some survive, I am sure of that. If we separate, I think all fails, for the Men as well as for us. Our kin must learn to decide for themselves; I am tired of constantly being asked what they should do!'

Orobenon did not speak, did not ask whether they ought to have taken the Noldo lord's advice and sailed after all; their daughter Bronwenith was waiting, and to have sailed without her, even to save themselves, was not to be considered for a moment.

'You know I love you, Arradis,' Orobenon said. 'What of our son?'

'His path I see glimpses of, not much, but enough. He survives. He endures. As the Noldo says, he wins renown...'

'Then nothing else matters, my dear, does it?'

'Nothing else, my love.'

All the Silvans deciding to keep to the agreement with Vayne, they tracked east around the borders of the forest, keeping the spikes and ridges of Ered Mithluin to their left and a good half days' march away from their company; rumours of orcs and wargs abounded in these times, although it was not yet the season for wargs. The elves hunted and fished, and complained large game was sparse, but there was enough food, with their stores, to keep them fed.

The weather turned wet, surprising for late summer, and the ground became boggy and difficult for the wagons, necessitating a detour somewhat to the north, closer to the mountains where the ground was harder and the way became steeper. Arradis saw the jagged peaks growing nearer and shuddered, her foreboding swelling in her heart, and she clutched Thorion closer and began to sing him all the songs, as if afraid her voice would be silenced before she had taught him them.

Yet all was well, for several more days.

'I do not like being so close to the mountains somehow,' Orobenon said, for rocky ridges were everywhere around, now, jagged and hard.

'I know; it has bothered me also. But we will need them,' Arradis said. 'Tomorrow, ride with your bow to hand.'

It happened, just as dusk was falling, the horses stumbling at the end of a long day. A cloud of bats first, blanketing the sky, and Arradis gasped, put her hand on Orobenon's to halt the wagon.

'I love you,' she said. 'Aim higher than you think you should.'

'Arradis? I love you, also...'

His wife had clambered into the back of the wagon where Thorion was resting, and she jumped down from the back with her son in her arms and a small leather bag over her shoulder; Orobenon joined her.

'Kiss your son,' she said. 'I will get him to safety.'

'Ada...?'

'Hush, penneth. Know I love you, your naneth loves you. Do as she bids you, ion-nin.'

Arradis led the youngling over the rough ground to where a crack in the ridge to the north masked a safe entrance to a narrow crevice, almost a cave but open to the sky here and there. She set him down, stroked the hair back from his face, and kissed him.

'I love you, my son, you are more precious to me than my own life... here is water and some waybread, keep to the back, keep quiet if you can, try not to be afraid, and do not come out until tomorrow daylight, do you understand?'

Thorion nodded.

'You will need to be very brave for a little while, but do not worry, you will be all right; I have seen it.' She kissed him again. 'We will meet again, I have seen it. Be well, ion-nin.'

'But, Nana...'

'Hush, now. You must try to keep quiet. And there will be shouting, soon, and flames, but you must stay here, do you see? Promise me?'

He nodded, and she kissed him again.

'Go to the back now.'

'Nana?'

'I love you, my dear. Nana must go, now.'

Arradis hurried down the slope towards the wagons; all had halted now to see what was up, and an argument looked to be breaking out between the humans and some of the Silvans; Vayne was hurrying over and Orobenon was trying to calm matters down.

'What is going on, why have you stopped?' Vayne asked. 'We were going to camp higher up...'

'We are going to be attacked,' Arradis said to consternation from the humans and silent attention from the Silvans. 'Ready your bows, your swords, hide your children; there are cracks in the rocks, secrete them away, there is time if you move now...'

But instead they stood and argued until there was a shriek in the sky and huge, beating wings and the dragons fell on them with fire and fear and screaming, deadly breaths.

Orobenon knocked an arrow to his bow, other Silvans dashed for their own weapons, Arradis running after her husband.

'Did you get him safe?'

'Yes, my love.'

'Why did you not stay with him?'

'Because I hoped they would listen to you, to me; they always do what they think I want them to, and by coming back I hoped to make them see... But they will not, they only wanted to argue! Still, our son, he will survive this and grow to be such a hero...'

'Then all will be well.'

But it wasn't, not really.

Huddled at the back of the crevice, Thorion saw the flashes of flame outside, heard the yells, the shrieks, the screams. He heard one immense bellowing howl across the mountains echo and reverberate and recede, and all was still. Later, he thought he heard a voice calling, but he remembered his mother's instructions and stayed where he was until daylight.

Only then did he leave the cave and begin the long, scary walk down to the smoking, smouldering ruins of the wagons.

'Look! It is Thorion!' a voice called.

'Go to him, quickly, do not let him see...'

An elleth hurried across the scorched earth towards the elfling.

'Thorion, little one! I am so glad to see you safe! Do you know me? It is Fasdes, you know, we would sing together sometimes... we were worried about you!'

'Where is Nana?' he asked. 'And Ada?'

'Oh, penneth, I am so sorry! They are dead. There were two dragons, and they killed almost everyone; there are only a few of us left...'

'What is 'dead'?' Thorion asked, because it was not a word he had ever heard in relation to elvenkind.

'It is something that does not usually happen to us,' she said.

'So they are special, then?'

'Yes, I suppose you could say so. It means their fëar have gone to Mandos, and they have left their bodies behind. They do not need them there, with Mandos.'

'What happened to Nana? And where is Ada?'

'Oh, my dear little one! I am sorry, they are gone.'

'Without me?'

'They could not take you. They were not able to. It is not that they do not love you, or did not want you with them, but they wanted you to be safe...'

It was too hard to explain.

Fasdes took his hand and led him down to where one wagon, and one horse, were waiting. An elf was sitting on the seat. Thorion thought he looked sad, but he didn't know why.

'This is Cadudor. You know Cadudor, your far-cousin.'

'Thorion, it is good to see you are safe. Sit with us.'

He sat on the driving seat between the two elves while they talked over his head.

'What should we do about... them?'

'We cannot do anything for them now; there are too many. When we get back, we will give their names; perhaps they will send a company to bring them home.'

'The little one's parents...'

'We cannot let him see them. Should we wait for the humans?'

'Perhaps they will want us to. There is only Vayne, and two of the Men left,' Cadudor said. 'We can make room for them; I will go and seek them out.'

It wasn't until night time that reality caught up with Thorion. He had sat, and waited for Nana or Ada to come back. He knew what 'gone' meant, and 'dead', when it was to do with other creatures. But not elves. So it had to be a game. Hiding and seeking, perchance, Nana played that, sometimes.

The adults made no camp fire that night, and he wondered why, but didn't ask. He wondered, also, where all the elves and Men had gone – there were only as many elves left as he had fingers on one hand, and fewer Men… perhaps they were hiding-and-seeking, too, or had decided to go home into the forest. He lay down in the wagon between Cadudor and Fasdes, listening to the raspy breathing of the Men beyond, something sounding wrong about them in a way he didn't really understand.

It was only when he went into reverie that he remembered what had happened after Nana had hidden him. The shouts. The screams. The air outside orange and yellow and hot, the smell of burning, of roasted meats, sickly and sad. The fear, worse in memory than in actual fact, for now it seemed the whole world was flaming...

He woke up screaming, but it didn't matter really, because one of the Men had, first. Fasdes held him close, and Cadudor sang to him, but it wasn't the same as Nana and Ada.

By the time they finally limped in to the trading town, some of the Men had disappeared, and the rest of the elves had gone, too. They, at least, had stopped to say goodbye to Fasdes and Cadudor and to shake their heads and sigh over Thorion. And he had learned to wake before he started screaming; it upset Fasdes less, although she never reproached him. Instead she told him he was so brave, that they were proud of him, Fasdes stroking his hair and Cadudor smiling sadly at him, and he knew they were trying to help him feel better. But he didn't really understand what he was feeling, or why it felt as if part of his body had been torn out, so how could he feel better until he knew...?

The Man who used to be in charge came and talked over his head at Fasdes.

'He's too quiet,' Vayne told her. 'You need to watch him; when it comes, it will come in force.'

Arradis would have politely thanked him, and perhaps said that elflings were different from human children, but she wasn't there, of course, and Fasdes did not quite have the courage to do other than nod and assure him the elfling was first in her thoughts.

'He is too quiet,' Cadudor said later, as Thorion slept in his arms. 'But I do not know what to do about it.'

'When we return home, we can take him to the healers. They may be able to help.'

'What shall we do? Will his sister be able to care for him?'

'She is little more than an elfling herself and stayed behind because she'd been injured; she may yet not be well enough. Besides, if Thorion's mother would not leave him there for so short a time as the journey, how will she cope with him as he grows and realises what he has lost? They are Children of the Forest now, I suppose. She is old enough to forge her way, but a family must be found for Thorion.'

'Could we be that family, Fasdes? It is hard to say, but this sadness and grief has made me aware how much worse it would have been to my heart, had you been lost. The little one is growing used to us; it would be a kindness, and I am his kin. When we get home, and all our dead are honoured, will you bind with me, and we can perhaps provide a home for Thorion, and his sister too, if she wants it? For as long as they need it, that is.'

'If that is your only reason, then no,' Fasdes said slowly. 'But if it is because you are drawn to me...'

'Of course!'

'I wish I were not so sad, so that I could be happier,' she said.

That night they stayed at an inn on the outskirts of the trade-town. Thorion looked about him with wide eyes; having grown used to the wagon, and open spaces, and a few people, to be amongst all the bustle and smell and great, tall legs of humans was distressing. The door to the inn's kitchens was open, and through it he could see the great fireplace, half of a pig roasting on a spit. The smell reminded him of something.

Whomever was meant to be turning the spit had left off their task for something else, and soon a voice rose, chiding.

'Boy! Get back to your work, the meat is burning...'

...burning...

'...it is scorched...'

...scorched...

Suddenly, Thorion flinched, and huddled in against Cadudor, shivering and shaking and beginning to cry.

'What is it, what is the matter, penneth?'

'B...burning... like... like they said Nana... Nana...'

'Oh, sweet Eru!' Cadudor muttered. 'Penneth, it was not like that, do not think it! No, it was quick, for your nana, your adar...'

But he began to really weep, to wail, and Cadudor shrugged as everyone in the room stared at them, for it was most unusual for an elfling to carry on so, unless physically hurt. He lifted the elfling gently in his arms and carried him out of the inn and round to the yard where the wagon was parked, climbing inside with him and lying down by Thorion's bed space, stroking his hair and waiting for the storm to pass.

After a while, Fasdes joined them. Thorion was sobbing intermittently now, recovering a little from the delayed shock of realising what had happened to his parents.

'They say one of the Noldor advised his parents to sail,' Cadudor said as Thorion slowly grew calm. 'You recall, the discussion there was?'

'Had we known...'

'Yes. But would it have been the right thing, or just the safe thing? I do not think I would have sailed, you know. I might have stayed there, with the woodland elves in the valley, but I would not have taken ship.'

'But I think I would have gone,' Fasdes said. 'Young though I am. And then we would not have looked at each other.'

'I have always looked at you, Fasdes, and wondered why you would not look back.'

'The healers – Arradis herself – said I had been made differently. That I would not be likely to bear children. It is rare, for ellyn, but so it is, and I did not think it fair to you, for I have seen you with elflings.'

With a soft, sobbing sigh, Thorion rolled onto his back and his eyes fluttered open as he reached reverie.

'It will not be easy, to steer this young one through his growing days. And his sister might not want us at all,' Fasdes said.

'I know. But I have love in my heart for this little one, as much as he has endured already. He was a sweet child before. I will do what I can.'

'And I will be with you, while you try.'

Another week saw them home in their forest village, telling the story to the Einior, the Village Elder, explaining the losses.

He bowed his head and thought of the lives lost, just for the sake of a little trade. Perhaps their king was right, perhaps the old, traditional ways of living were best, safest.

'I will not speak now of grief and sorrow,' he said. 'This tale is too new to me. But word must go to the palace, to the sister of this elfling, to the villages who have also lost their bright elves. We must take thought to whether we will go back to claim what is left, or allow the Valar to cover them with soft rain and gentle winds. They have no need, now, of corporeal form, after all.'

'We will go to some,' Fasdes said, although her Naneth looked saddened at the thought. 'Cadudor and I, we will seek out Bronwenith, and tell her the tale. And the other villages near, we will take word there, for we were witnesses. But go to the king I will not and cannot do; it is too frightening for me, I will not leave my trees for a time.'

'Perhaps Cadudor could go?' the Einior said; it was not really a suggestion, but when both Fasdes and Cadudor shook their heads, he thought again. 'Or perhaps Cadudor could tell what happened to one of our messengers, and we will send word that way. News will reach our king more swiftly thus.'

So it was done. Cadudor sat for an hour with one of the young ellyn, and talked, and wrote what had happened, all he could remember about the dragons, the number of those lost and their names, for that would be important for the remembrances of the dead, and of the few who survived but went off towards their homes on the way.

Next day, the little family-to-be set off for the village where Thorion and his parents had lived. They found Bronwenith, and told her with as much care and gentleness as they could, what had happened, and she gathered her brother into her arms and together they cried, and Fasdes hoped it would be the start of healing for them both.

But for Thorion, it would be a very long journey.

There was a ceremony, of course, two Starlight Gemstones brought by someone from the King's Office who spoke with dignity and respect about how valued all Silvans were, how courageous those who had lost their lives. How invaluable the knowledge of the dragons would be, that there were plans to go and rout them out, to destroy them before more lives were lost, and to then make a memorial there to those who had fallen.

For Thorion, he mostly recalled afterwards lots of sad elves taking turns to hold two beautiful gems and to say his parents' names, to talk about them. When it came to their turn, he listened to Bronwenith and wondered if he had to say all that, too.

'No, dear one,' Fasdes said. 'You just say all the nice things you remember about your nana and ada. What you liked about them.'

'I liked nana's hair, it was shiny. And Ada, singing. And...'

Around him, the adults hid tears and tried to smile as the little one recited a simple litany of loving parents and gentle kindnesses, lost forever, never to be again.