Elfique: thanks for the critiques, you seem to be my greatest fan...lol...my only one at that, thank you.

The next morning brought a hastened morning meal, consisting mainly of the last provisions for food that the company had; the journey to Mithlond was a day ahead of them on foot, on horse severally shorter than that. They would reach Mithlond within the hours of sunlight; the messengers sent one hour before the race to the shores of Lindon would have reached the city by the peak of last night, bringing news of the growing doubt to Cirdan, who alone could stay the Numenoreans from leaving Middle Earth without council. Celebrin prepared his Lord and Lady as his duty demanded, yet he did not begrudge it, for he alone of all the servants, he thought, had the most "Sindar" of the Lords, a man who above all else cherished doing most errands on his own, enjoying the work of his own hands. Celebrin took up his banner staff, and to it tied the banner of Celeborn and Galadriel; in his motions he noticed how similar and yet different the banner was to the designs of both the Sindar and the Noldor, to him it seemed to be a memory of long ago, the banners of the Quendi, before the first Great Sundering, it saddened him to know that many who would remember such things, had passed on into memory and legend.

"You sing as your father did long ago Tathirilion, did he teach you that song?"

In broken thought he turned to see before him a tall and strong woman dressed in a white riding gown, who, despite being covered with dirt and grass, shone radiantly in the bright sun.

"My...my father taught me many things before he...but that song was taught to me by my foster mother in Mithlond, she went by the name of Liriel, you knew her years ago."

"Ah yes, the daughter of Aforellon, how does she fair in these times."

Silence took him before he answered, he caused her much pain as a youth, pain she did not deserve. She alone took him in when others would not dare to, and remained with him until he properly grew out of childhood. Erasing the memory he said rather coldly, as cold as a servant can be with his mistress,

"To be honest my Lady, I know not, she left these shores long ago, in days of peace I am glad to say...If I may speak freely with you..."

"I gave you that right in Imladris Tathirilion, speak as you wish."

"Why, of all your husbands servants, do you speak with me so...informally? I am no lord, with whom you normally speak with, of matters in your own privacy. I am your servant."

The lady did not seem hurt or even questioned his reaction, she merely sat as one aged with many years of wisdom in her eyes. Yet deep inside she seemed as normal as he, no grand bearer of a ring of power, or a lady bred of high and kingly bloodlines. Instead she was as Celeborn was, not far and distant as Erenion seemed, not locked in a castle away from all life. Despite being a Noldo, she seemed almost Sindar.

"Your mother and I were friends Tathirilion, and she was a servant as well. I learned something from your people I hope I will never forget; the smallest of people, can topple the mightiest walls, it is not upon the backs of kings that kingdoms are made, but by the hands of its humblest inhabitants. In speaking with you, I remember that which Melian herself taught me. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, thank you."

Alphindil knelt by the tree beneath which he slept the night before, picking up the harp of the Nandor, and placing it almost reverently into his bag, wishing it well on the journey until it came forth from its abode to sing again. He heard the crack of leaves behind him and turned his head to see a tall figure dressed in gilded armor that shone a golden light in the new dawn, the figure looked hale and beautiful, and his gray eyes shimmered as thunder clouds in the light of lightning. Though he looked old, Elrond the half-elven was several decades younger than the one kneeling before him, but this seemed a little matter, for Elrond had the blood of Kings in him, the blood of both cultures, thought the outward bearing of a Noldo. He held in his hand a broad leaf that had fallen from the tree above them, feeling how easily it broke beneath his hand he said solemnly,

"Fall comes early this year, but that is no surprise, the earth has felt many wounds, it must heal before the next spring, and be strong enough for what is to come."

"And what is to come, my general?"

"Something that I will not burden your heart with my lieutenant... I come to ask you a question...If you will answer it."

"I will, to the best of my ability."

"If all we do is brought to ruin, yet before this end we experience some joy and happiness, where will your heart abide even though it is perilous in the end? Would you seek to prepare for the coming end, in hope that you may have a chance to prevent it? Or would you seek the little bit of happiness you know you will have, even though it will be brought to ruin nonetheless, a ruin you know will come?"

"May I speak freely sir?"

"You may."

"If I were to know the peril before me, and know that all that I had worked for would be brought to nothing, I would seek to find what happiness I can...before the end. For if the legends are true, then we will find that happiness again, in lands of peace, behind a veil of gray. Yet if hope were to remain, that, if by denying this happiness for a little while, I may have a chance to protect all that I cherish and give it a hope to endure the test of ruin, then I would stay this happiness, in hopes that I would not need to die to find it again."

"I knew this answer would be so perilous, yet it has given me clarity. I thank you Gaereledh."

"My General...she loves you, she will wait if she but knows of your thoughts."

And with that Elrond left the company of the lieutenant, seeming to have had a weight lifted off of his shoulders. And Alphindil smiled to see so high a Lord, have questions so similar to his own; he soon finished packing and then taking his horse joined the troop of travelers once again, smiling to Celebrin who looked, uncommonly stern, comically stern, attempting to remain in the mind of duty. The smile of his friend made Celebrin laugh inside, realizing how tense he looked, he eased his shoulders and rang forth the call to ride, and with a call to his steed he followed the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn into the west, with the rising sun at his back. And for the entire day the horses of the company never tired, for a shadow returned to their hearts, as the song of the two singers was placed into memory and rest revived their tired bones. And urgency returned to guide them down the paths of the road to the valley and coasts of Lindon, where only what seemed like a small span of time ago, the sea was not the sight one saw when passing the Ered Luin, but the river valleys of Ossiriand. And where once the immortal sea was only a memory and a song of a distant thing, far to the west, a place where rivers went and never returned. Now it was a place where rivers began at the mountains and ended in the sea in one day of travel. Now it was no longer a river valley, but the carved coastline where crashing waves and rolling water found land again, where the beauty and peril of the sea was everyday life, and where Cirdan the Shipwright had his haven fair and strong.

Before them the company saw the building of two towers of white, made of what looked like marble and stone from the coast, that had been strengthened by the crashing sea. Made in the fashion of the watchtowers of the sea folk it seemed, they rose from large bases and were projected to reach high into the heights of the mountains. Yet these towers were not to watch the storms of the sea, but to watch the storms in the east, the storms of war, to which no ship could sail. And before them as they passed the Ered Luin, rose a city fair and gray, whose walls, towers and buildings fair, were built into the very fabric of the mountains and cliffs. The scarlet roof tops and the great flames of the sea towers burned brightly in the light of the western sun, and all heard the call of the gull and the swan. Here in a city built of Sindar hands and minds, resided a Sindar lord, in the company of Noldor; the gates of the city were opened, and with the approaching company heard the ignorant cries of joy and celebration. And Alphindil returned home with the sun reflected in his face and the smell of the sea wind in his lungs.