Elfique: Yeah I liked writing that line, it seemed to fit for Galadriel to say it, considering her history, I hoped someone would get that.

The camps were scattered and the tents of the generals were filled with merriment; surrounding the fires were many weary and joyful soldiers who would watch Celebrin pass by as only a brief shadow. At long last through the masses and the fires he discerned the blue and gray banner of Mithlond, waving in the wind; waxing and waning in the starlight. It's lines creating waves upon it, flowing this way and that; and above it stood the banner of Erenion Gil-galad, silver stars upon a blue ground, shining and shimmering amidst the fires surrounding. There many recognized him and in their merriment- some of it drunken- many greeted him warmly, embracing him and pushing him towards the fire, where sat a great number of them and a spread of cheeses and breads. These actions took him by surprise, as he had never been warmly greeted by such as these in all his life; being greeted as an old friend now disturbed him until he asked one who gave him time to speak before closing their greeting.

"My comrade, why is it that you greet me so, when I have not been with you in battle, as an old friend who indeed fought beside you to see these days."

"My friend, did you not think your deeds in the healing houses of Imladris went unnoticed? Or unwelcome. Many here you healed by your arts, though you do not remember us as we passed in and out of that blessed place. Do not let the death of Estelion weigh heavily upon you, for you saved many others besides."

And with that he was turned to the inside of the large garrison, and he stood before the fire where sat an armor-clad lieutenant, hooded and who sat beside a richly decorated sword, laid upon the seat beside him.

"Mae Govannen healer of Imladris, I have heard much report of you and how you saved the lives of my men."

To Celebrin this voice was familiar, yet more aged, more hale than he had known it at first; it was the voice one who had seen much war and had learned much of the art of war. To this greeting he responded,

"I thank you as well Lieutenant of Mithlond, for keeping the borders of the hidden valley safe from enemy fires and hosts of dark evil."

And in the midst of all that stood or sat around them the two embraced one another, forgetting long sundering, and their friendship was rekindled and blazed again as the fire before them. They sat throughout the night in the midst of all those soldiers, reveling in the stories of victory, and listening intently and somberly when tales were told of the battles won with much loss of valorous life. The evening began to wane and many that were most weary began to drift to sleep, silencing the conversations around; many that remained awake were mostly the Sindar who fought beneath the banner of Erenion, watching the stars now that they had the time to enjoy them again. The two companions sat before the dying fire, speaking of all that had happened. Though Celebrin found himself speaking more of the steady building of Imladris, than he heard of the rise of his friend in the ranks among the Eldar. This happened to be because whenever he was asked of battles or his goings, a dark shadow would cover his face, a fear of recalling some deep memory of grief and sorrow. This effect was so great upon him that he spoke little of it and very briefly at that, yet his friend did not press him further, for he knew why nothing was elaborated upon; such were the consequences of war, memories that would not leave, of blood and fire, bone and death. When all had gone to sleep and the fires were quiet the two companions walked along the open pathways, as they had done in more peaceful times, in Mithlond, when the shadow of the east did not weigh them down. They did not speak for between them no words needed to be uttered, the pressence of one another was enough for them to merely enjoy the others company. At length Celebrin spoke, with a slight jest recalling older times,

"It is hard for me to see you in such a position Lieutenant, yet such a thing was expected for so great a warrior."

Yet unlike the jests before, his friend did not reciprocate with a jest of his own instead he took a deep breath and sighed,

"I do not wear this position proudly, for I buy it with the purchase of my own soul."

With an imploring look upon his face Celebrin stopped their walking and stood before his friend, speaking softly he said,

"What evil, that our greeting cannot heal, weighs upon your shoulders now, mellon nin?"

"One that no greeting can heal save for time and peace... and much joy long sought for."

"Share with me this secret of your burdened heart, so that I may know what troubles you so...Have we not always been able to do so?"

They sat upon a fallen tree that had withered had fallen many years ago, beside a creek that fled into the river nearby. Alphindil seemed heavy with grief, as if he had lost another of his family, but at length he spoke at last, his voice heavy with sorrow, seeming to be on the breaking point of crying,

"In one of the battles our garrison had lost our only lieutenant, we were ordered to attack from behind...yet the Enemy could not be surprised so easily. They were waiting for us in the dark...they were so quiet, almost as shadows of the world. A cold came upon me, a freezing of my very soul, a terror I could not comprehend, only so much that I was reminded of the Fall, and the terror that lay in the wake of the Balrog. Then they struck, they were stronger than orcs, their cries filled the air and their swords' bite was fierce and cold. Many feel beside me, I was covered in the blood of my own people, I felt dispare begin to take me, I tired of life then, my body began to quake. Then I saw a light shine beneath my eye sight, a twinkle of a little star of brilliant blue, hope returned to me at least enough to return me to my feet and call all my scattered companions to me. It took all that night, the battle beyond us was over; at the rising of the sun we were victorious then. One would normally be joyous at our victory, yet the light of the sun revealed to us the true evil of the Enemy. Our foes were not orcs blindly following hatred and evil, before us lay many men, young men whose dark skin and hair reminded me of your own. They were children, only children...who had families, lives of their own, before the shadow came upon them. Their clothing was beautiful, their voices saying prayers to some unknown fate was said in a beautiful tongue that had no remenance of the black speech, nor did my heart feel that they called to the Enemy in their prayer, but something else. Though I knew them to be evil in some way, I could not bring myself to hate them, but pity them that they would never return home. Such beautiful beings, could not have been wrought in the malice of the Enemy."

Alphindil began to weep uncontrollably; remembering the beauty of those youths overcame his heart, tears streamed down his face as the many rivers of Ossiriand, and it broke the heart of his friend to see him in such a state. Celebrin guided his friend to a secluded grove where none could see them, save for the owls of the trees and the eyes of the river. Wiping the tears of his friend Celebrin comforted him saying,

"Their deaths were not of your making, sad though it may be would you rather have allowed them to slay you, causing your own people to weep for their sons, husbands and fathers? The malice of the Enemy is far reaching, it has cursed all bonds that should have been made in friendship."

And the two remained locked in one another's arms until the sobs were quieted, and they contained their composure. Alphindil looked in tot eh eyes of his friend and smiled,

"How I have missed you. When I was a child, newly orphaned you held me as you did now, comforting me even though you yourself were naught but ten years older than I."

"And I have missed you, Lieutenant of Mithlond."