Quotes: ee cummings, Cheri Lee

Ionamin – my son

Mellen – friend mellenen – my friend

Elenaëar – Sea Star Gwaenúr – Wind Racer

Big thanks to my beta Ellisk and to SpaceWeevil for the horses names

"Nothing is planned by the sea and the sand"

The days following the arrival, and subsequent departure, of Mithrandir came filled with discovery for Círdan and the newest member of his household. The baby discovered her power to incite havoc in the Grey Hall by crying, taking great pleasure in doing so, often and loudly. She also discovered that she preferred to sleep on Círdan's chest rather than in a cradle, requiring a great deal of patience on his part. Unfortunately, for Círdan, moving too much, or too suddenly, invariably awakened the child, whereupon she would cast suspicious glances at him, making him feel guilty for having considered laying her in her bed.

Círdan's discoveries were of a much more sentient nature. He had not dreamed that he would feel so strongly for this creature, and it was rather disconcerting to learn that after all his years in Middle Earth, the one thing that could reduce him to blind panic was being unable to discover the reason behind the baby's crying. He also came to realize that he held little hope of having a moment's peace for himself ever again. When not dealing with the baby directly, he found himself worrying about her or wondering what she was doing at any given moment of the day.

Overall, the first week passed rather smoothly. Aside from the adjustments to his new life on Círdan's part and the staging of the takeover of the household on the baby's, they spent the days in relative good humor, falling completely in love with each other.

On a sunny afternoon, Círdan sat with the baby on the terrace looking out from the white stone courtyard onto the calm bay. As he looked out over the water absentmindedly playing with one wiggling little foot, Merilin, the baby's nurse, came out to join him holding her own baby in her arms.

"How fares your little one today?" Círdan asked her with a smile.

"Haldír, my lord, his name is Haldír." Merilin reminded him pointedly as she sat down on the bench next to them.

Lord Círdan, not one for subtleties, looked at Merilin blankly.

"And your baby's name is?" She asked him, raising her eyebrows.

His eyes widened and he stared at Merilin for a moment before they both began to laugh. Círdan had been so absorbed with the commotion of the baby's arrival and enjoying his new role as father, he had given no thought to naming her. After some discussion on the matter and with Círdan revealing no hint of her origin, they decided on Anaiél. She had been Círdan's gift from Ossë after all, and the name fit her well.

The shipwright's patience knew no end where Anaiél was concerned, and this carried over into most other aspects of his life in Mithlond. The people of the fishing village on the firth had always loved and revered their lord, and his new warmth of character only endeared him to them more. For that reason, most had been willing to accept his strange charge without question, and he offered no explanation.

Nevertheless, there came times when Círdan caught word of whispered rumors. Some speculated that she must be the child of some distant relative from another realm. Others, less kind in their musings, insinuated worse. Anaiél was obviously not of pure Elven extraction and must ergo be the result of some distasteful liaison with a human woman, perhaps resulting in the death of the child's mother.

The worst of the speculative mumblings came from outside of Mithlond and therefore, rarely reached Círdan's ears. As Anaiél grew older, word of her existence spread throughout the communities that had close dealings with the elves of the havens. The most cynical of these people referred to Anaiél simply as 'Círdan's bastard.'

In the quiet village of the havens, however, they remained blissfully ignorant of the most malicious gossip, and Círdan continued to introduce Anaiél into all aspects of his life as lord of the elven realm. Most importantly, she needed to be aware early on that, as his daughter, she played a role of prominence in elven society and must be well prepared for that role.

Anaiél quickly became acquainted with many of the most distinguished elves of Arda. Being a person of great repute and import himself, Círdan regularly received visitors from the different Elven realms, as well as friends from among the tribes of men.

Lord Celeborn, the first to meet the child when she had been in Mithlond but a few weeks, remarked that her intellect and development seemed quite similar to the elves, though she lacked some of the physical coordination of Elven children of the same age.

Lord Elrond arrived in Mithlond accompanied by his sons, when Anaiél was six months old. They had noted that her look seemed similar to the people of Gondor, perhaps a bit darker in skin tone. No one could place the eyes, however, and only when they were alone did Lord Elrond learn of the song of Ossë.

Lord Elrond had a great affection for children. He sat at great length, holding Anaiél, laughing as he spoke to her. She responded in kind, smiling up at the great elf lord, blowing bubbles and cooing.

"Nothing could give me greater pleasure than to know that you have joined us in the ranks of fatherhood and all that goes in hand, Círdan." Lord Elrond laughed at the hand tugging on his hair as he spoke.

Círdan sighed, "I'm afraid I have begun to feel my years in this endeavor mellon, I have had little rest since she arrived. Yet, in all my years, I have had no joy to compare."

Lord Elrond smiled sympathetically. "My greatest joy in your circumstance will come when we may sit and commiserate on the antics of our children as she grows older, and begins to mortify your senses, as do mine now."

Lord Elrond cringed as the little hand gave a powerful tug to a lock of the elf's hair. The rich warm laughter of first, Círdan, and then the two together, vibrated throughout the Grey Hall.

"My little girl so wild and free, how happy you look as you dance by the sea."

Lord Glorfindel was a frequent visitor to the Firth of Lhún. He would sit for hours on the stone terrace of the Grey Hall with Círdan and Anaiél, watching the comings and goings of the village, reading or trading stories and news with the Lord of Mithlond.

As Anaiél grew older, Glorfindel began teaching her songs and poetry of the Eldar. Anaiél, enchanted by the beautiful voice of the elf lord, would try in vain to emulate the lofty arias. Unfortunately, her voice could never quite achieve the ethereal quality of Glorfindel's, and often she fell into silent frustration.

Anaiél admired and cared for all of Círdan's friends, but she worshipped and adored her father, following him everywhere he would allow. Growing up the child of Círdan, Anaiél learned to love the sea and the shore surrounding her home and it became as much a part of her as it was of her father.

She loved to run barefoot along the sand with Tirin and Olossë, and they taught her how to run her fastest and outfox anyone who was chasing her by alluding their grasp. She became so good at this that there came a time when neither Tirin nor Olossë could catch her anymore.

Since the time of her coming to Mithlond, Tirin and Olossë had been devoted to the child and treated her as if she were their own, protecting her as brothers, teaching her to swim, ride horseback and fight like a boy

Anaiél also developed an impish sense of humor under the tutelage of the two older elves, as well as an affinity for practical jokes, an affinity that Círdan had been forced, on several occasions, to rein in. More than once there had been meetings between the two boys and the elf lord regarding Anaíel's station, and the need for proper decorum.

Anaíel's closest friend was Merilin's son Haldír. As they grew older, they became inseparable and some of the best times of her childhood she spent in his company. Although Merilin, her husband, Beldír and Haldír returned to Lorien just after Anaíel's first year, there followed many subsequent visits between Mithlond, and the forest home of Haldír and his family. The young ones insisted on it as often as possible

Anaiél adored Haldír's mother and father as well, spending every moment she could with them when they came to Mithlond. Merilin and Beldír's visits became less frequent, however when Amroth, King of Lorien, set Beldír as warden of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Subsequently, much of his time had to be spent traveling to and from Imladris with them. Haldír was immensely proud of his father and vowed that someday, he would assume his role.

On several occasions, Beldír accompanied Lord Celeborn to the Grey Hall, bringing Haldír with them. On these visits, Beldír spent his time, taking them out fishing or riding and patiently working long hours with Anaiél, teaching her the finer points of archery, much to Haldír's amusement.

Haldír came to Mithlond nearly every summer to spend time near the sea, and he and Anaiél passed the days whispering secrets to each other, and playing on the water's edge. Haldír became her steadfast protector against some of the crueler young elves in Mithlond. He would rise to defend her against those who teased her about her dark features or her strange ears. He never seemed to notice her differences otherwise, and she missed him terribly when he was not there.

Many times, after overhearing a particularly harsh word regarding her appearance, or her ambivalent parentage, Anaiél locked herself in her room, refusing to come out until Círdan ordered her to do so. They then spent hours talking about her origin. He held her in his lap, telling her of her unusual begetting and the love with which Círdan had welcomed her into her home, and his heart.

At times, Anaiél felt a desperate longing to be the same as her father's people, at others she delighted in her differences. However, many times she felt isolated and alone, unable or unwilling to share her solitude with her father. She wondered about her place in the world and how she fit in, if she would marry and have children, or be precluded from both by her differences, wandering alone and lonely.

The thought of that solitude terrified Anaiél, haunting her dreams. She avoided sharing these thoughts with Círdan, not wanting to hurt or upset him. She saved them for when she could talk to Haldír, her best friend, and keeper of her secrets. He always knew exactly what she needed, when to listen, when to advise and when to tease her out of her reverie.

It was along the water's edge that many of Anaíel's most difficult questions received answers, in music sung to the water by Ulmo and Ossë. She learned the song of her origin, its lyric answering many of the questions that the child had posed to the dark and had gone unanswered for too long.

Uinen brought her a wonderful symphony of the newfound peace of Ossë. Though still wild and impetuous, the rage and self-loathing that had driven him for centuries no longer haunted him. Uinen's song gave Anaiél a sense of understanding. Though sorrow and guilt had driven Ossë to the shore on the day of her begetting, love had been what had moved him to create her song.

Uinen also taught her the songs of the ancient mariners and those of the Vanyar and the Noldor. They taught her much of Aman and the Valar, but there was still much she had yet to learn, things that Ulmo alone could not teach her.

In Anaíel's eighth year, Ulmo bid Lord Círdan to take the child to the Tower of Elostirion. Here she saw for the first time, the Palantir of Elendil. On many occasions throughout her childhood, she traveled to the room at the top of the tallest of the white towers, to look into the stone.

At this point, the Valar began singing knowledge to Anaiél of many things. She learned all she needed to know of the history of Arda and its people from these visits, and Círdan noticed that after each one, she seemed to mature and become more accepting of herself. She passed hours listening to Estë sing a song she could scarcely follow, only catching fragments of the cadence and lyric.

She learned to speak Quenya as well as mastering Sindarin, the common speech and others, some of which Círdan recognized, and others that he could not define. She seemed to take more knowledge than she would ever need from the stone, filing it away, never using it inadvertently. However, he knew she remembered, for there had been times when she had come to him, questioning him about strange histories of which the wise old elf new nothing.

At other times, she became withdrawn, going inside herself, as if processing the information given to her by the Valar. After spending hours alone, she would seek Círdan out, on the terrace or in the library, crawling into his lap and looking into his face sadly. She held on to him tightly, sometimes crying into his broad chest. He knew inherently that on these occasions, the stone had revealed to her some particular aspect of his own history.

There had been times when Anaiél let enough information slip for Círdan to know the specific event of which she had learned. More than once, after having to clarify some particularly painful tale for her, they wept together.

Those darned teenagers!

When Anaiél turned thirty-five, Haldír and his father came to take her to Imladris, her first trip without Círdan. She was to meet with Lady Galadriel, and apparently, this made everyone quite nervous. Círdan spent weeks going over lessons of proper etiquette, speech, attire and table manners. He stressed constantly, the need for her to remember that she would be a reflection of her father, and to comport herself with utmost dignity at all times.

Anaiél sat in the study for hours listening to Lirúvia's admonishments to remember all that Arwen had taught her, and when all else failed, to simply follow the example she set. She was to be on her best behavior and, under no circumstances were she and Haldír to sing any of the songs that they had learned from the mariners during the past summer.

Finally, they set out for Imladris on an early spring morning after much fussing on Lirúvia's part, and a few tears on Anaíel's over the impending separation from her ada for six months. Anaiél rode accompanied by Tirin and Olossë, as well as the party from Imladris. She was delighted to see that Elrohir and Elladan, the twin sons of Lord Elrond, would be traveling with them as well. They had often teased her mercilessly on her many visits to Imladris, and she looked forward to showing off her newly acquired, and frighteningly inaccurate skill with bow and arrow.

Anaiél asked Elladan if he could sit for her as she attempted to shoot a piece of fruit from his head. Elrohir reassured his horrified brother that he had little to fear; in front of Anaíel's bow was the safest place to be as it was most likely to be where she would be aiming. They spent the next few minutes dodging pebbles thrown at them by the affronted archer.

The party traveled at a leisurely pace, in no great hurry to arrive. They sidetracked several times, lured by the promise of game, or some area they wished to explore. They spent two days on the bank of the Baranduin, fishing and hunting. Beldír was patient with these little side-trips. It was not until they neared the Trollshaws on the ancient road eastward, that he began to feel uneasy. Allowing the others to ride in front, he spoke to Elladan and Elrohir of his concern. Elladan then departed from the company without a word, riding swiftly eastward.

Suddenly, the lighthearted group began to grow tense and alert. Bringing his horse up to ride next to Haldír, Beldír began reiterating to his son what he already knew.

"If anything happens, ionamin, you are to leave the road. You and Anaiél make for the trees and remain there, no matter what happens, until the danger has passed."

He reached over, placing his hand on his son's shoulder, lowering his head to look him in the eyes.

"You are responsible for Anaiél, stay together; keep yourselves safe."

Haldír reassured his father with a nod, and Beldír smiled at his son with pride and confidence as he urged his horse ahead to rejoin Elrohir.

Tirin and Olossë came riding behind them, stringing their bows and keeping close vigil on the northern expanse between the road and the trees of the Trollshaws. Olossë doubled back several times, blending in with the trees along the roadside, assuring that no danger approached the party from behind.

Anaiél had not seen this side of her friends before, and she was slightly in awe of how quickly their easygoing demeanor changed at the hint of danger. She realized then that Tirin and Olossë were no longer boys but young men, and a powerful force in their own right. Gone were the laughing faces and light-hearted banter of the party. The levity now replaced by masks of intense warriors, alert and ready to counter any attack launched against themselves and those they cared for.

Following their example, Anaiél grew quiet and watchful. She had never experienced a threat to her physical safety, but Círdan had taught her enough to know that her part was to keep silent, follow instructions and stay out of the way. Haldír rode by her side and tried to ease her fear by staying as close as possible without impeding their horses.

Haldír was watching the road carefully when he suddenly looked at Anaiél then motioned with his eyes toward the east. Anaíel's vision, though acute, had never become as far reaching as that of the elves. Seeing two riders approach, she squinted, trying unsuccessfully to make out their faces.

"Elladan returns," he whispered, "he rides with Glorfindel."

Haldír gave her a teasing grin as Anaiél wrinkled her nose. Both remembered a summer ten years earlier when Glorfindel had come to the Grey Hall to meet with her father. She and Haldír had been playing on the docks in the harbor and had inadvertently caused some discomfort to Lord Glorfindel

Glorfindel had always treated Anaiél with warmth and kindness, but as the years passed, he became rather solitary. He would often walk on the docks alone, lost in thought, looking out over the water toward the west. Unfortunately for Glorfindel, it was during one of his forays to the bay that Anaiél had had enough of Haldír's teasing about her archery skills, and decided that the time had come to take action.

Armed with a bucket of stagnant seawater that had been sitting in the sun for Eru alone knew how many days, Anaiél hid behind some barrels that sat on the stone wharf, waiting to be loaded onto one of the ships. She lay in wait, growing impatient until she heard footsteps approaching. When she judged the sound close enough, she jumped up and doused her victim with the malodorous contents of the pale. She was mortified when she looked up and saw, not Haldír, but Lord Glorfindel, soaking wet, staring at Anaiél in utter disbelief.

As often happened when she was extremely embarrassed, Anaiél began to giggle hysterically. She clamped her hands over her mouth and looked pleadingly at Glorfindel, who was looking back at her with wide eyes, his head tilted slightly, a look of disgust on his usually serene face. Círdan found them moments later, Glorfindel drenched to the skin and rather unpleasant smelling; Anaiél, still trying to control her giggling, an empty bucket swaying in her hand.

Círdan approached his daughter, took the bucket from her, and silently turned her around to lead her from the docks. She did not see him, but as they turned to leave, Glorfindel began to laugh silently as Círdan simply shook his head in dismay. Anaiél became the recipient of a long and severe scolding as she and Círdan made their way back to the Grey Hall. She was so ashamed that she spent the remainder of Lord Glorfindel's visit trying desperately to avoid him.

For the first few years after the incident, whenever they chanced to meet, Anaiél would greet Glorfindel pleasantly enough but beyond that, she would try her best to stay out of his way. However, during his last few visits, she had grown annoyed with the embarrassment he made her feel. He had a habit of smiling vaguely when he greeted her, as if teasing her about her childhood indiscretion. She would bow to him with an air of sarcasm, and then make it a point to completely ignore him.

Anaiél drew herself out of her thoughts as Elladan and Glorfindel approached, Glorfindel giving her a slight bow of the head as he passed, drawing Beldír aside. The late afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, the growing darkness adding to her feeling of anxiety. She tried not to show her fear as she stared straight ahead into the deepening night. Haldír noticed that Anaiél looked frightened and briefly took his friend's hand to comfort her. She looked at him, smiling nervously.

The party moved on cautiously, without a sound. Appearing in front of them, Elladan stood at the head of Anaíel's horse, halting the mare. He motioned to Haldír to stop as well, turning his head slightly; listening for something that her own ears were yet unable to register.

"Anaiél, dismount quickly, Haldír, do the same and ready your bow." Elladan was speaking in an urgent whisper.

Haldír nodded as Elladan added, "move to the tree line and stay quiet."

Haldír and Anaiél jumped down from their mounts, releasing them. Glorfindel stood with his steed, Gwaenúr and the other horses, whispering to them quietly. The animals then disappeared from sight. The pair walked quietly down the slight decline at the southern edge of the road, toward the sparse line of beech trees, Anaiél with a death grip on Haldír's tunic. They knelt at the foot of a thick trunk, and looked toward the northern side of the road

From a distance, Anaiél saw Beldír look back toward them several times to reassure himself that they were safe, before turning his full attention in the direction of the threat. Beldír stood with his bow at the ready, waiting. Elladan and Glorfindel began moving cautiously toward the road. Elrohir stayed in front of Haldír and Anaiél, not so close as to draw attention to them, but close enough to protect them.

Looking around in worry, Anaiél finally caught sight of Tirin and Olossë on the far side of where Beldír stood, watching intently, with their weapons ready. They spoke quietly to each other, planning their strategy with hand signals and a few well-chosen words.

Glorfindel slowly withdrew his sword from its sheath without the slightest whisper, as Elladan nocked an arrow into his bow, almost too quickly for Anaíel's eyes to follow. She held her breath as she finally heard what it was that they had been listening for. A low, feral growl and then, quiet again.

"Wolves from the north," whispered Haldír, as he knelt near her, nocking an arrow into his own bow. "What could have driven them this close to the road?"

As they stared across the ancient path toward the southern line of the Trollshaws, they saw the movement of men among the trees. Anaiél focused as hard as she could and saw a group of several men, peering from behind the trunk of a large beech. They were filthy looking with matted beards and long scraggly hair. She wondered what type of men traveled with a wolf pack, thinking they were most likely thieves and murderers, driven out to the road by hunger or some other need.

She saw Glorfindel motion to Elladan before they moved off toward the road, staying low on the incline. Six of the horrific beasts began to emerge out of the trees on the northern edge. Anaiél drew in a breath as she saw the wolves for the first time. They were huge, unnatural looking creatures, starved and diseased. They advanced carefully at first, moving in unison like some demonic army, their sharp teeth exposed and dripping with saliva.

As the men appeared from behind the trees and stood watching, she saw wolf eyes glowing amber in the moonlight, searching out the weakest of the elves to prey upon. Their hideous faces contorted in hunger and rage. Anaiél and Haldír's nostrils flared as the sickly stench of human and beast reached them. The largest of the six wolves let out a blood chilling howl, and suddenly the beasts converged at a dead run.

One of the smaller wolves took a run at Beldír, seeming to grin maniacally as it grew closer. Beldír shot his arrow, hitting the crazed animal in the neck. He nocked a second arrow and this time aimed for the gaping mouth. It fell to the ground near Beldír's feet, grunting and thrashing its head in an effort to shake off the arrow lodged in its gullet. It then heaved several loud, gasping breaths before it lay still.

As the elves concentrated on taking down the animals, Anaiél and Haldír saw the men running northward, cutting across the road, thinking themselves hidden by the night. As soon as they reached the trees on the south side of the old road, they turned west, heading toward them with what seemed to be clubs, or awkwardly crafted bows.

Anaiél nervously looked back to see two of the beasts running toward Elrohir, his eyes darted from one to the other and in a split second, he had brought down the smaller of the two. The second doubled back, skidding to a halt behind a tree as it turned to see Elrohir nocking another arrow, then skulked off to the east. Tirin and Olossë ran off in pursuit of the retreating warg as Elrohir quickly turned his attention to his brother and Glorfindel.

The two largest of the wargs had set upon Glorfindel and Elladan. Elladan shot an arrow into one of the beasts back yet it kept coming, making a hideous screaming sound. Glorfindel dispatched it with one stroke of his sword, nearly beheading it completely. Anaiél gripped the trunk of the tree, turning her head as the animal's body continued to twitch for several moments in a macabre death dance.

Anaiél heard, but gratefully did not see the two elves dispatch the second of the wolves. The thing screamed and raged in its death throes and she could only imagine what could have reduced the insane beast to such plaintive panic. She watched the sixth run off into the tree line on the northern side of the road.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Haldír aim his bow toward a tree just to the south of where they stood. In the common tongue, Haldír spoke to the tree.

"If you value your skin, reveal the rest of it before I put an arrow in the southern portion."

Anaiél squinted and saw that the raggedly clad posterior of a man was indeed visible from behind the narrow trunk of a young beech. Haldír waited coolly for a response, his head slightly lowered and his eyes staring, unblinking. He stood fixed like a statue focusing on his prey without even the slightest wavering of his hand. Anaiél looked on in amazement at the complete absence of nerves exhibited by her friend.

Haldír seemed inclined to wait as long as necessary for the ragged man to realize that he had been seen, and was being called out into the open. Someone from behind them, however, was not as patient.

An arrow cut past them at just the precise angle, hitting the trunk with impeccable accuracy, pinning the man's pants to the tree. The man let out a high pitched scream, thrashing his leg until he freed himself and running off toward the south, leaving a good deal of his trousers and perhaps a piece of his own hide, nailed to the tree by the arrow of Glorfindel.

Haldír and Anaiél looked behind them in unison to see Glorfindel sheath his bow. Haldír looked around cautiously, winked at Anaiél, and went to join the other elves standing with weapons at the ready, looking around carefully for men or beasts. Satisfied that the threat had passed, they began to call quietly for the horses. As soon as Anaiél had assured that her mare, Elenëar, was with them, she turned her back to the tree and sat in the dirt.

Anaiél had been breathing shallowly during the entire attack, and she now felt somewhat light headed. Holding her head down, she took a moment to catch her breath. She got her feet under her to stand and raised her head to see a pair of amber eyes staring into her own. The wolf was nearly close enough to pounce on her in one leap, and it licked its jowls hungrily, growling deep in its throat.

Anaiél could not move; she could not cry out for help; she could not even breathe. Tears fell from her eyes but she dared not blink. She could have sworn she saw the ugly thing grin, its mouth foaming, eyes crazed with hunger.

Anaiél darted her eyes from left to right but there was nowhere for her to run, if she tried, the disgusting thing would be on her in a flash. So she stared at it, willing it to die, or go away, or simply disappear. It seemed as if she sat there for an eternity staring down the warg, and praying to Eru for some magical power to save her. The beast with the huge head sat on its haunches, glaring at her, growling even louder and panting heavily.

Anaiél saw the animal tense and closed her eyes, not wanting to watch the freakish thing with that look of perverse glee on its face, if it began to charge at her. As she heard the beast begin to launch its attack, she closed her eyes tighter, awaiting her impending death.

Suddenly, Anaiél heard the faint sound of steel ringing, followed by a heavy object slicing through the air, coming from the west. She opened her eyes to see the wolf staggering to the ground, a long knife protruding from the side of its head. Its fading eyes stared at her accusingly as the wretched thing rolled on its side and lay twitching, just a few feet from where she knelt.

Glorfindel and Beldír ran up to the still moving wolf as Beldír proceeded to shoot several arrows into the animal. He wore a look of passionate anger as he shot. He then turned to look at Anaiél and his features softened. He sighed with relief, giving her a dazzling smile. She smiled back weakly.

Glorfindel looked at her as well, but he was not smiling, not even a little. He looked angry as he grabbed her by the arm with one hand, lifting her up like a sack of grain, gritting his teeth as he spoke.

"What was that Anaiél, if you can not see it, it is not there?"

She realized he was referring to her very shrewd tactic of closing her eyes to ward off the attacking wolf.

"Perhaps this will teach you to follow instructions when you are told to stay with Haldír," he said acidly. "Your father would drown the lot of us in the waters of the Lhún if anything were to happen to you. Perhaps next time, if not for yourself, than for our sakes, you will do as you are told."

Glorfindel released her arm with a quick jerk and Anaiél looked at him with her mouth open as he turned his back on her to withdraw his knife from the dead wolf's skull. She blinked her eyes several times before what he had just done registered in her mind. Realizing that Glorfindel was reprimanding her rather harshly, she frowned intently and took a deep breath. Walking quickly to her side, Haldír grabbed one clenched fist and led her away.

As they came to a standstill by their horses, Anaiél turned to Haldír.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded to know, taking her hand from his to rub the arm so recently offended by Glorfindel.

"Mellen, I have been the recipient of that look too many times through the years. When you get that wrinkle right there," he tapped her on her forehead just above the bridge of her nose, "no pleasantries are likely forthcoming."

"But you heard him Haldír, he was scolding me," she said indignantly. "Who does he think he is? I did as I was told, and he scolded me. He was scolding me." She shook her head incredulously as they mounted their horses.

"Yes he did, mellen, he did indeed." Haldír laughed, "and do not think I will not be hearing of this from my father. I was the one who was supposed to stay with you."

He spoke softly to the horses as Anaiél pouted, and they began to follow the other elves, eastward toward Imladris.

Anaiél looked at her friend and said, "but, Haldír?"

"Yes Mellenen?'

"He scolded me."

"Yes."

"Big orc."

They both began to giggle quietly.