Chapter Twenty-Four
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SUMMARY: As the patients lie in the Healing House, Legolas is forced to learn an excruciating lesson about ruling. And finally, we see what's going on with Evvy!.
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"And though my love is rare
And though my love is true
I'm like a bird
I'll only fly away
I don't know where my soul is (soul is)
I don't know where my home is…"
By Nelly Furtado
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The Woodland Realm, 9th of December 2944 T.A.; late in the evening
After dinner, Bard and Thranduil left their chambers for a short visit with Gildor and his family, then went back to the Healing Hall for an update. Turamarth's and Evvy's condition was the same, and their families still held out hope, but the family of Lidros, Keeper of the Têwtham, was not as fortunate.
Legolas sat next to the bed, with his arm around the Elf's mother and she wept. His father stood over his son and stroked his bandaged head as he whispered, his tears falling on the still, pale face.
"What happened?" the Elvenking whispered. "You held out some hope, earlier."
"I said we did not know; there is a difference." Ivárë ushered the Kings out into the hall in hushed tones, then said, "After his injury, Lidros had a seizure, and suffered from massive bleed in his brain. We tried, My Lord, but could not stop it in time." Ivarë told them. Beneath her detached, professional veneer, the Healer's eyes were crestfallen.
"Is there nothing be done?" dread grew in Thranduil's stomach, as his eyes glanced to Evvy's room.
The Mistress took his meaning, then urged them a few more steps away from the grieving family. "What Elrohir fears for the Galadhrim maiden, is the case for Lidros, I am sorry to say. "Even if he could survive, his brain is dead, and it is mercy that his organs are shutting down; there is nothing we can do except wait."
"It is my fault," came a voice behind them.
Thranduil and Bard turned around to see Legolas standing there, his face twisted with remorse.
"Ion nîn, it was Saeros who attacked him—"
"No, Ada; I insisted that Ivárë wake him up so we could ask him questions." Legolas face was haggard, as struggled to meet his father's eyes. "Ivárë warned me, and I should have listened. He did not tell us anything useful, and now he is dying because of me."
The Elvenking hoped for a denial, but Ivárë clasped her hands together and remained silent.
"Mistress?"
"I wish I could say it did not contribute to Lidros's current condition," she replied honestly, "but I cannot say it would not have happened anyway."
"No; I was impetuous, and I panicked," Legolas rubbed his forehead with a shaky voice. "I—"
"I will leave you three to talk," Ivárë bowed her head. "I must get back to the family."
"Of course," Thranduil nodded. "Thank you." The Healer turned and left, but not before she gave the prince's upper arm a squeeze.
"This is the first time you have lost someone under your command?" Bard asked.
The prince nodded slightly.
"Listen to me, son: your father will be the first one to tell you these things are a judgment call, and we cannot always predict what will happen. You acted with the best of motives, and there was no correct answer here."
"That is what Captain Adamar said," Legolas said grimly. "But I doubt Lidros's parents would agree."
"Ai, Pînlass nîn," Thranduil ached to see his son's pain. "I wish I could tell you this gets easier, but it will not, and if you are a good and conscientious leader, it should not. If it helps, I would have done the same thing." Thranduil cupped the back of his son's head and urged him to meet his eyes. "I believe you did well, despite this."
"His parents should know the truth."
"No, Ion Nîn; it would only add to their anguish. If you want to do something for them, bear this burden on their behalf."
Legolas's eyes reddened, and they shone with unshed tears, but his chin bobbed slightly in agreement. "I would like to stay with him, until the end."
"They will appreciate it. Bard and I will go with you to offer our condolences, then after, if you need us, we will be in our chambers; do not worry about the time."
"I will," he said quietly. "Ci athae, Ada." The prince took a moment to collect himself, then straightened his shoulders and entered the room.
"Will he be all right?" Bard asked him.
"He is his mother's son," Thranduil's throat tightened with love and pride. "Of course, he will."
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Halls of Mandos
Námo and Vairë had just welcomed Lidros to Mandos' Halls, and the young Elf was led away by his sister, as she spoke softly to him.
"Betrayal is the worst kind of pain, I think," Vairë sighed. "I am happy you explained about Pallando, but I think it will take a while before Lidros can come to terms with it all. Do you think he can forgive Saeros?"
"I have no doubt Nienna will do her best. For now, I have instructed her to keep them apart, until he has a chance to settle. He was a kindly Elf in life; I do not think he will be here for long."
"His thread was not full of the bold colors of action, Melmenya. Yet he lived a life that suited him. Soothing greens and blues, the same as his parents."
"Not every Elf is destined for adventure," Námo agreed. "But his Fëa was happy; that does not always happen, no matter what one's calling. I like him."
"So, do I," Vairë patted his hand. "Do you need me for the next arrival? My work awaits me."
"I do not think so," he said, as he adjusted his crown. "Her case seems pretty cut and dried. Nienna will be here in a few moments."
"Very well," The Weaver leaned over and kissed her husband, stepped down from the platform and exited the Hall.
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At the far end of the pillared halls, the doors once again opened to admit a petite female Elf. She was blonde with large brown eyes, wearing a white robe.
"Enter, Evranin, daughter of Ohtar and Vériel," the jewels on his hands sparkled in the lamplight as he gestured for her to come forth.
She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, as she followed her escort, her head turning to take in the dark splendor of the Hall. Evvy had almost reached the steps to climb onto the dais when an urgent voice called from the doorway.
"Wait! Wait, please!" Someone waved her arms and ran the length of the hall as fast as possible.
"What is this?" Námo scowled. "One does not simply walk into my Hall of Waiting—"
"I have leave to do so!" she held up a scroll. "Please; I must ask you to stop!"
Evvy's jaw fell, and her eyes bulged. "Naneth?" her voice was still rough from the injuries to her windpipe.
"Yes, Aewpin; it is me," Vériel smiled and used the same governance she was gifted with in life to face the Lord of Mandos. "My Lord," she bowed lowly and saluted. "I have received a message from the Lady of Light, and brought it before King Manwë himself—"
"And, naturally, he allowed this," Námo's hand covered his eyes. "Do not misunderstand me: I love Manwe; truly I do, but sometimes he can be guileless. He is so full of goodness that he cannot comprehend much of the darkness that lies within the Children of Eru. Ulmo and I begged him not to release Melkor from prison, but did he listen? Noooo! I thought Tulkas was going to lose it! 1 And thanks to all that, my Halls are filled to the rafters with Fëanorians! AND their armies! How many times did I have to build more rooms?"
"Yes, yes, yes, my brother," Nienna rushed into the chamber with an absent wave. "These good people do not need to hear you rehash old arguments." She gracefully came to Evvy and took her hands. "Hello, dearest!" Then her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, look at your poor face! And are those bruises?"
Evvy stared into the lovely Vala's sparkling eyes. "Why do you cry?"
"To help you," Nienna took out her silver handkerchief, wiped her tears, which turned into shining diamonds, and she touched Evranin's face with the silken cloth, and instantly the young Elleth was restored to her normal self. "My, but you are lovely! Do you feel better?"
"Y-Yes," the Elf murmured, as she touched her throat.
"Good. Now, will you introduce me to your mother?"
Their heads turned to face the tall auburn-haired Elleth whose face had filled out into the beauty she had been meant to have in life. "Greetings, Lady Vériel. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Wait!" Námo raised both hands, not happy that he was losing control of the room. "Am I welcoming this Elf into my Halls or not?"
"Not!" Vairë entered through the door behind the throne and held up another piece of wool that was changing colors even as they stood speaking. The Weaver held out her hand for the scroll. After reading through it, she nodded up to the throne. "Lady Vériel speaks true, my husband. Manwë wants the daughter of Óhtar to leave with her mother."
"For what purpose? She is dead!"
"She is not dead, yet. Or at least, her body is not." She held up the parchment. "Either way, she is not coming here."
"This is highly unusual!"
"These are unusual times, my brother," Nienna said smugly then winked at Evvy. "Do not worry about him; he just hates it when things like this happen." She kissed both the Elleth's cheeks. "I have enjoyed meeting you very much; now, go with your mother, sweetling.
"Will I see you again?"
"You will not," the Vala sighed. "But I will be watching over you, nonetheless." She pressed something into Evvy's hand. "This gift will bring you comfort."
When the young Elleth lifted her palm, she saw nothing. "What is it?"
"You will see."
"Thank you, My Lady," Evvy curtsied. After giving courtesy to the King and Queen of the Halls of Waiting, she turned and ran into her mother's waiting arms.
"Thank you, My Lord," Vériel saluted, then placed her hand on the small of Evvy's back and led her out.
"Lady Vériel?"
The Elleth turned her head. "Yes, My Lord?"
"Please make sure she understands the truth."
"I will," she waved. "Thank you, again!"
Nienna climbed up the steps to stand next to her brother and sister-in-law as they listened to the whispered conversation
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"However, did you manage it, Nana?"
"I still know how to get things done." Vériel laughed softly. "Sometimes it still pays to be intimidating!"
"Where are we going?"
"You will see, Aewpin. Come along, now, before Lord Námo changes his mind!"
"But…" Námo threw up his hands helplessly. "How…"
"Try not to sputter, dear," Vairë smiled patiently and patted his hand. "It is not regal."
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For once, Evvy was relieved that her mother took control of the situation.
As the Ellyth walked across the misty floor, she admired the beauty of this place and the workmanship of the many lamps that shone a warm light. "I thought this place would be frightening," she murmured.
"I think that is what Lord Námo intends," Vériel shrugged. "It prevents a great deal of impetuous behavior that results in death. I suppose, for those whose actions are truly evil, it would be terrifying."
"Like Saeros?" Evvy spat out his name.
"Hmmm... About that…"
"What about it?"
"We need to talk…"
Vériel took them through the Main Doors, but instead of the barren landscape from before, they were walking along a beach with snow-white sand, and in the far distance was a tall mountain range covered with trees.
"That," she pointed to the mountain that stood head and shoulders above the rest, "is Oiolossë, where King Manwë lives with Queen Varda."
"Are we in Valinor?"
"More or less," her Naneth put her arm through Evvy's and clasped her hands. "It is beautiful, is it not?"
"The sea is," she said. "Is this what called you all those years?"
"It was, and now that I am here, I understand," Vériel sighed. "This is where I belong. But I am thrilled at the chance to be with you!" she stepped back and held both her hands, as she looked up and down at her daughter. "You look wonderful, Aewpin! You have changed!"
"I – before all this happened, rather – I did change, Nana. I am… proud of myself!"
"As you should be! You have done well in the Woodland Realm and made many new friends, have you not? I am told everyone thinks highly of you."
"It is true; I liked the 'me' I became there… but not everyone who seemed friendly was really my friend. There was one Elf named Saeros, and he—"
"I know, hênig." Vériel traced her hairline with her fingertips. "But you should know that things with Saeros were not what they seemed."
"But he murdered his parents!" Evvy stepped backward and shrugged off her mother's touch. "And he bragged about it, Nana!"
"And for that reason, he is to remain in the Halls of Mandos forever."
"Could somebody tell his parents what happened to him?"
"They know, child."
"You have met them?"
"They will not be coming to Valinor," Vériel told her. "They have asked to remain and live out their existence with their son."
Evvy was dumbfounded. "But why?"
"Iellig," Vériel's voice was gentle. "What is the very last thing you remember?"
She searched her memory. "Saeros was about to stab Turamarth… I knocked him off, and the knife…" Evvy's eyes closed as her senses relived the last few moments of her life. The distant echoes of raised frantic voices… the memory of hands upon her throat…
(I cannot breathe… I cannot breathe…)
Her heart pounded against her ribcage as lungs begged for air, but Saeros was straddled across her chest with and laughed as he tightened his grip.
"Huil pen-channas!" Saeros snarled. "You should have left well enough alone."
Desperate, she reached up, scratched his cheeks, and rammed her thumbs hard into his eye sockets.
"NAEG!" Saeros howled let go and grabbed his face.
(Oh, praise the Valar… air… air…) she inhaled as her lungs roughly expanded.
With a roar of rage, he grabbed her windpipe with one hand and squeezed. She grunted in agony, but when she touched his hand to pry it off, her fingers found something cold and hard. Her hand went completely numb, and she had no control over her fingers.
Evvy was going to die.
There was a noise to her right. Turamarth was scrambling to save her in time, when Saeros suddenly let go and looked up as a terrible, deafening groan rumbled throughout the cave.
Above her, Saeros looked up. Evvy looked up. Vildan shouted something and grabbed at Tur. Somewhere in all that, King Thranduil screamed out an order to save the children.
(Please let the children be safe, please let the children be safe, save them save them save—)
Suddenly, there was air, blessed air. Saeros shook his head, released his grip, and stared at his hand as if it were some foreign objects. The rage left his eyes and was replaced with confusion, regret, and horror.
"Evvy? I—"
That was all he managed to say, before the world fell on top of them.
She opened her mouth to scream, but shock of the bitter-cold filled her lungs with water. Her body violently convulsed as a thousand icy knives pierced her flesh, and she was wracked with pain like she never thought was possible.
Slowly, what little light there was dimmed into blackness, and she knew nothing more…
Evranin came back to herself and shivered. Tears soaked her face as she crossed her arms over herself. "I was so, so cold… And it hurt, Nana. Oh, how it hurt…"
"Shhh…" her mother's warm comforting arms slowly made the memories bearable. "Come with me." Vériel led them off the warm sand to a small patch of grass. She sat them down, and said, "You were brave to think of the children, and to pray to Galadriel."
"They were freezing to death… Was it she who warmed the pallet they were on?"
"It was," Vériel smiled. "Oh, I am so proud of you!" You found your courage, and fought to the last."
"I told him I did not hate him; that I felt sorry for him," she recalled, and winced at the memory. "On the ice, I scratched him and then he grabbed my…" she ran her hand over the front of her throat. "He was crushing my windpipe; I could not breathe."
"Then what happened?" Vériel urged, "Think carefully."
"Everyone was shouting, and the noise weakened the ice on the ceiling…"
"And he stopped; he hesitated, for just a moment, did he not? This is very important, hênig," Vériel pulled back and held her gaze. "Something about him had changed, yes?"
"He tried to say something…It was just a split second, but he looked… bewildered, and upset."
"Exactly!" Vériel said proudly. "You did it!"
"I do not understand…"
"No, but you will. To begin with, Saeros was not the root cause of all that took place; he was just as much a prisoner of this evil as you all were. And you have encountered it before."
"When?"
Vériel inclined her head patiently. "Search your heart, Evvy; the atmosphere in that cave felt familiar, did it not?"
Evvy took a deep breath and rubbed her fingers across her lips as she searched her memory. "I remember thinking that the air in there held the same heaviness as in the Golden Wood, when… Oh!" her eyes widened. "But how?"
"That is a story…" Vériel put her arm around her and drew her close, and shared a tale so tragic, that they were both in tears at the end.
"Oh, that sadistic monster!" Evvy wiped her eyes. "He was just a child! A child! What a waste of a life! Poor Saeros!"
"But his story will not end there, thanks to my brave, beautiful daughter," Vériel stroked her hair to soothe her. "You brought him back to himself, before he died."
"Yes, but only for a few seconds—"
"Those few seconds was what caught Nienna's attention, do you not see? She was not convinced of the truth until you prompted that change in his Fëa, and praise the Valar you managed it, just in time!"
"'In time' for what?"
"Lord Námo was seconds away from casting him into the Void with Pallando."
Evranin's gasped. "Oh, no!"
"You saved him, my daughter! Your compassion, your caring, and," Vériel beamed, "your strength, set him free. We are all so proud of you!"
"Oh, Nana…" It was too much. Evvy clapped her hand over her mouth as her vision swam. The kidnapping, the terror, Saeros's cruel words, the cold... And Turamarth! lt was too much to contain. Her body shook with sobs, her tears soaked her mother's dress, yet Vériel only held her tight and let her cry herself out.
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After what seemed like hours, she settled down. When she could speak again, she asked, "Does Saeros understand what happened?"
"He does, and he is more grateful than he could express. His parents are, as well."
"Is that why I was allowed to go with you?"
"Oh, that," Vériel chuckled. "I wanted to be the one to tell you, and," she winked, "I never could take no for an answer."
"I remember," she giggled.
"The gift that Nienna gave you was from Saeros, you know."
"Really?" Evvy held out her empty palm. "I still cannot see it."
"I have seen it, and it is exquisite"
"But, how would he have time to make anything?"" Evvy brows scrunched together. "He died in the same moment I did!"
Vériel's grin was mischievous. "Time is not the same, here."
"Oh…" she took in a huge breath of the clean, sea air. "It is so beautiful; so peaceful."
"Come; let me take you to my home," Vériel gracefully got to her feet and pulled her up beside her. "There is someone I would like you to meet."
"Oh, yes!"
They walked arm in arm through the grass, and Evvy marveled at the change in her mother. Vériel was always outwardly beautiful, but now that her fëa sang openly, she was one of the loveliest creatures Evvy had ever seen.
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They walked along a curved stone path lined with flowers that led to upon a lovely little cottage on an embankment that overlooked the water. More flowers peeked out from cheerful window boxes under blue awnings, and there was delightful small garden with a fountain next to a stone terrace that looked over the water where several comfortable chairs were gathered.
"What do you think, Aewpin?"
"It is wonderful!" Evvy laughed. "I never pictured you in a cottage, but it's perfect."
"You are back, Meleth nîn!" the front door opened, and a tall, handsome Elf with long blonde hair and a welcoming smile stepped off the porch and approached them.
"I am, Hervenn nîn." Vériel stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "And I brought our guest."
"This is Evranin?" the Ellon grinned, and saluted. "Mae govannen," he said, then held her hand in both of his. "I am truly sorry for what you were put through, child, but I am glad for the chance to meet you. You and your brother are all she talks about; I feel like I know you already!"
"I am sorry, but I…" Evvy smiled tentatively, as the surprise sunk in, then, she gasped. "You are the Warden Nana lost so long ago!" she blurted out. "She told us about you!" 2
"So, I have heard," his smile was utterly charming, "My name is Malach, and yes, I knew and loved your mother a very long time ago." His grey eyes were filled with affection, as they rested on Vériel. "I never stopped. And I thank Eru for our second chance."
"He was waiting for me when I arrived," Vériel slipped her arm around his waist. "I was swept up in his arms and we married soon after."
"My wife wanted to live by the water, so I built her this cottage, and we have been living here in bliss ever since." Malach was tall and muscular with a kind, handsome face that laughed easily. "But where are my manners?" the Ellon turned her around. "Come in and relax; I have made us all dinner, and later we will sit on the terrace watch the moon rise over the water."
"That sounds lovely." Evvy followed her new stepfather into the house. It was open and cozy with simple and comfortable furniture. There was a small hall that held two bedrooms and a bathing room, and the kitchen was well-equipped and neat. Candlelight bathed the white walls in a soft, warm glow, and a vase of bright flowers decorated the round table that was set and ready to serve.
Malach pulled out the chairs for Evvy and his wife, and then brought them bowls heaped with a salad, vegetables and a lovely fish grilled with lemon and butter. He opened a bottle of wine and took his seat.
"I hope the meal is to your liking," he said, as he poured her a glass. "I caught the fish this morning. Your mother was told you were coming, and we wanted to make sure this was a real celebration."
"I am sure it will be delicious," Evvy pulled the napkin into her lap, as he served it up. When she lifted her fork and took a bite of the fish, she hummed with delight. "It is wonderful!"
"Good," he laughed. "You have had a big day, Evvy," he held up his glass, to make a toast. "To my new wife," he smiled at Vériel, "and her lovely daughter. I hope you and I will be great friends. To family!"
"To family!" they clinked glasses and drank.
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The meal was almost as wonderful as the company, and they lingered long after Malach had cleared their plates. The Ellon had a wonderful sense of humor, and Evvy had never seen her mother laugh so much! This was Vériel as she always should have been, with eyes that sparkled, a pale blush to her cheeks, and a smile full of affection.
Just after Vériel served dessert, a delicious pear torte, Malach grew a serious. "I want you to know," his hand covered Evvy's, "I respect your Adar, for his care and devotion to your Naneth, and would never do anything to dim your memory of him. I am in hopes that one day, he and I can meet and be friends."
"I hope so, too. He told me hoped Nana would find happiness with you."
"He will find the same happiness for himself," Malach reached over and kissed his wife's hand.
"He will?"
"Yes, and I wish him every joy, for no one is more deserving." Vériel said serenely. "Someday, we will all be together, and it will be a wonderful party! Malach's nephew will be coming to visit us, soon," Vériel's smile was mischievous.
"Oh? Do I know him?"
"You did," Malach smirked. "Actually, he is my second great-nephew. But yes, in life, you and he were friends."
There was something slightly familiar about her stepfather's features…. "Mahtan?" she squealed. "He is your nephew?"
"He is. We are not sure when he will arrive, but it will be soon."
"I cannot wait!" Evvy clapped her hands and laughed, then saw Vériel and Malach exchange glances.
"What?" Her head moved back and forth between them.
"It is time to for us to go watch the moonrise, Hênig," Vériel rose and picked up her glass.
"But I will be happy to help with the dishes," she offered, as Malach pulled her chair out for her.
"Nonsense," the Ellon was kind. "You are a special guest, and my wife and I will clean up after. A moonrise in Valinor is a beautiful sight; you do not want to miss it." He stood and picked up the bottle. "Bring your glass; we will enjoy our drinks on the terrace."
Her mother gently guided her to a comfortable lounge chair that faced the sea and covered her with a light blanket. "I am so happy, Evvy," she caressed her cheek.
"I will be happy here, too, will I not?"
"Yes." Vériel told her, gently. "You will have a wonderful home and delight in your days. We will visit each other often, and enjoy all the festivals…"
"But not now."
"No, my darling girl, not now. But seeing you, helping you, has been such a gift…" her voice wavered. "My little bird's broken wings have finally mended. As much as I hate to let you go, you deserve a chance to see what wonderful things await you. And oh, what a life you will have!"
"Really?"
"Really." Vériel's soft hands held her face. "But first, I want you to do something for me."
"Anything." She rested her hands on Vériel's wrists.
"I worry for your father, Evvy. He suffers more than he admits, and has not adjusted well. The shock from your kidnapping might be too much."
"Does he still love you?" Evvy chest contracted.
"He thinks he does, but it is only loneliness. Now that you are stronger, I must ask you and Orlin to look after him, for a while."
"Poor, Ada!" Her chest tightened. "I should not have left him…"
"No, child; if you had stayed, you could not help him now. And," Vériel lifted her chin and smiled into her eyes, "you could not have saved Saeros. These were things you were meant to do." Vériel's eyes sparkled with happy tears. "Oh! I have loved this time with you, my Little Bird." Soft, warm lips pressed against her temple. "Please, give your father and brother my love?"
"I will, Nana," Evvy relaxed into her mother's embrace. "I love you, too."
"I look forward to seeing you again, Evranin." Malach filled her glass with wine. "You will always be welcome here. Bring your husband and children next time; we will have a picnic under the stars."
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"I promise," Evvy took a drink, leaned her head against the cushion and gazed out at the water. Anor's daily journey across the sky was over, but the sky was still painted in deep reds and blues, that reflected off the clouds. 3
"It is lovely…" Then Evvy finally found the courage to ask what was truly on her mind. "Nana?"
"Yes, Iellig?"
"Will I marry Tur?"
"Do you love him?"
"I do."
"If you wait until the time is right, you will both be very happy."
"But when will that be?" She couldn't hold back a yawn. "He has been badly hurt, and I do not know how to help him."
"Ask Lady of Light for guidance, child," Vériel's voice grew softer as the sunlight faded. "She will be as your mother, until we meet again."
"All right," Evvy's eyes drooped then she remembered something. "What was Saeros's gift, Nana?"
"You will see…" Vériel's voice echoed in her mind, as Tilion brought Ithil into the night sky, and she was bathed in silvery light. 4
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Aewpin – Little Bird
Iellig vuin – Beloved daughter
Melmenya – (Q.) My love
Vennya – (Q.) My husband
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NOTES:
[1] The Silmarillion, Ch. 6; "Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor": "For Manwë was free from evil and could not comprehend it, and he knew that in the beginning, in the thought of Ilúvatar, Melkor had been even as he; and he saw not to the depths of Melkor's heart, and did not perceive that all love had departed from him forever. But Ulmo was not deceived, and Tulkas clenched his hands whenever he saw Melkor his foe goes by; for if Tulkas is slow to wrath he is slow also to forget. But they obeyed the judgement of Manwë; for those who will defend authority against rebellion must not themselves rebel."
[2] Legolas, Ion nîn; Ch. 33: /works/17088320/chapters/46069903
[3] /wiki/Sun
[4] /wiki/Moon
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