Glorfindel

Glorfindel's POV

Beleriand, FA 126

I grimaced in irritation when I managed to spill the second drop of ink on a report I had begun just seven lines earlier. At least this time it was not my own impatience but the startling interruption of a messenger, throwing back the tent flap without bothering to announce his presence before.

"There is an errand rider out there waiting for you, sir" the young elf panted "He has a message from Hórean he says, and was asked to give it to you directly. Also, he refuses to enter the camp"

There were several questions I could have lavished on him, but he continued hastily "He has a message from Hórean he says, and was asked to give it to you directly. Also, he refuses to enter the camp"

"Bless him" I said fervently, rolling up the paper "That gives me even more time away from this silliness"

But a message from Hórean – a message from Hórean? That took a double turn to enter my mind. If anything happened, Hórean or one of his scouts were expected to return. How could he have sent someone to us who was not at all part of his riders? And even if, how was that someone allowed to find us? Well, yes, we had not only Turgon's promise that we would pass safely but Ulmo's himself. I had to confess that I did not trust wholly into that and provided my own guards as well. After all two thirds of my travellers here were definitely not warriors but nobles, craftsmen, healers and farmers.

"What was the name did you say?"

Of course the runner had forgotten to mention a name in his hurry "Er…he said to call him Calathaura, sir"

"Hum" I felt vaguely reminded of something but could not place the memory. I left the messenger at the inner guard ring and continued to the edge of the camp alone. Delicious smells of evening cooking were already beginning to rise from many tents. This was a more elaborate camp than we usually made. Though I was grateful for a few nights in a tent and some warm meals I was not happy with the delay. Camps like this were prone to attack. I wondered if the runner had missed another important direction when the entrance appeared to be deserted except for the general guards, but then I saw a foreign horse grazing a little distance away from the camp. It was a saddled and armoured horse, carrying the scratched pack and bedroll of someone who obviously spent his time outdoors. The mare wore a halter with reins, which puzzled me considerably. Few of our horses I knew would tolerate such harness. The almost sardonic look I saw in her black eyes told me very clearly that she was one of the true elf-horses, though, not of the half-breed herds emerging now. And that she knew every thought in my mind.

The elf leaning casually against the mare's shoulder had dark-golden hair which he had half-heartedly combed and tied into a loose tail. His clothes were clean, but travel-stained and mended in several places. The original cut I recognized as belonging to the royal houses, but there were no badges or clan patterns visible anywhere. The cloak he had obviously traded for with wood-men, and all garments were in shades of darker grey. His armour consisted of well-worn leather pieces that had been reinforced with metal in places. They were discoloured from use, and the sheath of his sword, which he had slung across his back rather than fastening it to the horse' s armour, matched the faded colour. And he was Elda. Fair hair like his was unusual among my people, so I ought at least to have seen this man before, but I found myself at a loss. He straightened when he saw me approach, taking a small scroll from his belt. I recognized Hórean' s with some surprise – I had expected the message to be verbal.

Before I could say something the strange elf greeted me with a slight bow.

"My lord Glorfindel. Please excuse my insolence of letting you run out to meet me here. I prefer not to enter a camp this large where I know no one and have no proof of my trustworthiness. I am Calathaura. Hórean and his hunters met me two days ago, near the villages to the west. He asked me to bring you this"

I took the sealed scroll he handed me, pleased with this blunt greeting. I needed not bother with royal trappings here. With so many nobles in this army it was always a relief to deal with warriors, hunters or messengers. I watched the stranger closely, noting the still visible scratches on his face and hands. The mare had seen battle recently as well "Was there trouble on the road that he sent a sealed missive?"

Calathaura noticed my gaze and smiled slightly "There was not when we met, no. I tracked and killed a group of orcs some time ago. What you see on us are just the remaining traces – I am not a professional healer and there was little time to nurse wounds. Hórean said…" he seemed to recall the words for a moment "…to tell you ' that there are bees in the attic' "

Bees in the attic. Our old joke. To hear Quenya again, and spoken by this stranger with a simplicity that told me at least Calathaura regarded the banned tongue still his own, was painful. But Hórean's meaning was plain: you will be travelling through dangerous country. Buzzing with danger, in fact.

"Are you familiar with this part of the land?" I asked abruptly after a moment "I am not, and neither are most of my people here. Any guide would be welcome"

The stranger seemed taken aback "I am not a scout, my lord, neither a guide. What I know of this country is not much. I crossed the lands here once, and in haste. Even from here I see you lead a huge group of chaotic civilians – I know no suitable places for such a camp, if that is what you mean"

Blunt indeed. "Let us not discuss this out here. Will you enter our camp if I asked you to?" I made a small gesture to the tents "As you can smell, there will be dinner soon. Eat with us, and then tell us what news you have of your own roads"

Calathaura looked away for a moment, back to the far forest "There is not much news of that road" he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. He smiled abruptly, a true smile, though brief "But Faire here asked me to deal for a hot mash, so if that is included in your bargain, I will accept"

I laughed "I am sure that and a dry stable is in it. Come then"

Calathaura insisted on seeing to the mare himself, so I left him at the stable tents. A thin layer of clouds had come up and now, as night deepened, a sudden rain fell. Dinner was made ready, and I dashed across the space between my tent and the stables in the downpour. What use sending an aide? I might as well fetch my guest myself. I had the feeling Calathaura would remain in the stables if not explicitly called out.

When I slipped into the warm stable tent I guessed I had been right. The flaps in the tent's roof were open to let the air move, but two small coal braziers gave light and some warmth. The smell of hay and horses was strong. Faire was in the first box, which was more of a compartment divided off by lines strung and hung with blankets. With the elf-horses we could risk makeshift organizations and even braziers, while the tents to stable the mortal horses took time to secure and needed solid construction. They also remained a rather draughty business since any sort of fire was out of the question there.

Calathaura had taken his own armour off and piled his and his horse's things in the nearest corner. The runner had obviously shown him where to find the bath tents and provided him with a loose shirt and trousers until his own things were dried. The scraggly tail was gone and his still damp and curling hair fell unbound over his shoulders. He was speaking softly to the mare, but did not break off when I tapped on the flap and entered.

"…and I should imagine you will roll in the deepest mire tomorrow" he obviously finished his sentence. He smiled at me to indicate he had seen me and would come in a moment before moving around Faire and tugging the next of her hooves up to check for stones.

"There is a wonderful place just in front of the gates. It should be squelching by dawn" he added after a moment, letting go of her and straightening up. He had spoken in Quenya, and even as I realized Calathaura was not only mumbling to the mare but having a conversation I knew that I had seen him before, though briefly. Long ago, before the first shadow of Morgoth had fallen on Valinor. And again, while crossing the Helcaraxe, drenched and in the middle of chaos where great parts of ice had simply turned over under our feet.

Quenya… – then the sindarized form of 'Calathaura' had to be – "Gildor"

The stranger looked at me startled, then shrugged and smiled slightly "If you wish" he said in Sindarin. I shook my head, the ceremony and all the attached trouble coming back to my mind.

"Your name is your own. I just remembered…I just remembered seeing you in Valinor" I finished firmly "In the city, and…later on the Ice, when we left…"

"Ah, yes" Gildor looked at me searchingly, his eyes falling on the small emblem on my cloak "The House of the Golden Flower. You will have been there then as well. At the circle"

"No" I said "Not then. I am younger than you. My father was, though"

"The father who did not accompany his son into exile as well" Gildor said recklessly "Funny how many people have got into conflict with their families over leaving…Severe conflicts at that, too. Even in the highest royal houses. And so the wayward sons meet again" Gildor smiled wryly. He had nothing to lose, obviously. Those words could have got him into severe trouble at any place.

I smiled ruefully "In a way. But I intend to keep the circumstances different. Will you still eat with me?"

"Maybe the question should be the other way round" Gildor remarked as we hastened through the rain towards my tent. This I regarded as the most worthy attachment that came with being army commander – I got a large tent, and all to myself. Though I preferred to eat with the fighters in the larger tent, sometimes the opportunity to have my food brought here came in handy.

"Why?" I held the tent flap open for Gildor to slip inside "Do you fear my nobles will object to your presence?"

Gildor glanced at me "Something in your formulation tells me that is exactly the point. You do not get along all smooth with some of them, I assume" he said carefully, sitting down on a folding chair gingerly. After a year of rough camping it seemed he would have preferred to sit on the floor at the moment "And won' t they? It would not be the wisest thing to start a squabble over proper behaviour right now and here"

"I do not lead this company for wisdom but for strategic reasons. There were lots of older people who could have been put in command" I said. If he was playing as aptly as some of my nobles did, I could get myself into serious trouble, too, talking like this. What did I know of him other than well, that we both had left Valinor choosing new troubles over old ones. But in this I also decided to trust in some design of Ulmo, that someone with absolutely no idea what was going on might find us.

"You are head of your house now" Gildor pointed out "Who in exile could point a finger and stand any better than you?"

"Those who were lucky enough to get a complete family across the Ice and consider themselves moral imperatives?" I suggested, walking over to the table I had hastily emptied of maps and decked for dinner.

"They missed out on Feanor's piece, I guess – still trying to re-build Valinorean land and law"

Gildor looked at me "You are in for enemies"

I laughed "For my talk, yes. Hardly anyone risk their integrity passing words against the powerful families, do they? Seldom in private, never openly. Even among friends mutterings are restricted to dark corners and night-watches, and here I am talking to a complete stranger… I' m lucky though. My missions were all fruitful up to now, so success counts for me"

"I suppose so" Gildor replied carefully.

"The traditional ones can be a pain in the ass" I said undeterred "But I will prefer a guide with knowledge of the orcs and the land to any white-vested noble who never stole a kiss behind a tree and has no idea how to hold a blade the right way up"

Gildor stared at the glasses while I poured mead from a jug. He very well understood I was referring to Silmarusse.

"I would exchange any day of the last year for embarrassing trials without hesitation. It had all been meaningless while we had had each other. It wasn't the trial that stung, the idiocy about laws and customs, it was the fact that all Silmarusse and I had gained then has been wiped off a year ago for nothing"

I held my breath a moment. I had assumed this "She is…dead"

He nodded "An orc-ambush"

To say I am sorry was only cold comfort. I had the feeling he would not appreciate that.

"Why do you bother with asking me to accompany you through this country? You have the right to command" Gildor leaned back "I told you before I have little idea what to expect of this land. I am hardly better a better choice than any of your own scouts. And if those you already call a pain in the ass find me out they probably will try to turn that against you"

"And no matter that is absolutely silly and useless" I finished. He moved fast. Taking my implications and drawing exact conclusions. It was like arguing with my friend Ecthelion, not like talking to a stranger I had known for less than an hour "I don't give a damn, you know? I have to get all these people safely through this country, how, I don't care. You're experienced both in leading small groups and in coordinating them. Almost none of my officers here can claim that. And you can't tell me it wasn't all hot air back in Valinor"

Gildor waited curiously how I would continue. I shrugged inwardly. Too late to retreat to small-talk now "As I said I was too young to speak on the council then. I would have said so otherwise"

"Why did it concern you?" Gildor asked "If you were so young, the affair can' t have been more than a rumour and a story of your father' s business to you"

"It wasn't, at first. But it kept popping up in every talk and argument somehow until you pushed to the peak for the ceremony. I don't know what exactly went on, but it was scandal number one. At a time when they should have worried about the rift between the houses more than about a couple's love affair. More than about their mouldy laws" I added lowly, then gestured to the table "We should eat before that's mouldy, too"

Gildor smiled slightly and applied himself to the food. It was a better version of army fare, but after his own lean year and the last winter it must have seemed the best food in the world. I hoped it was enough to weigh up the topic of the ceremony. For a good while we ate in silence. He finished the last crumbs of a honey cake slowly and then glanced at me.

"There was something about the way you speak of the ceremony and the laws that makes me think you are not happy with them either"

I was not. Just why I could hardly admit here "Many families and houses were split by the rebellion and the exile, but the far greater part separated in sorrow, not in anger" I cut a piece of cheese to bits and speared one with my dagger absently, having ignored the fork successfully all through dinner. It wasn't false modesty when I claimed to feel out of place with the royal trappings and more comfortable among the warriors. But I had learned my manners, no doubt. I knew how to play the courtly game. Still, I was here mainly because I had a force of warriors, not a band of courtiers. Because we had survived the Ice, and, so far, the exile. Why I was not happy with the laws was a very different matter. And out of the question, too. The one I had loved had not left Valinor. But I had said too much too bluntly. I had to see if I could make a blunt withdrawal "I would rather not speak of it now"

Gildor nodded, accepting "But you at least still wear your badges"

An answer I could take or leave. For some reason, I took it "Maybe I just found a better way to resolve my conflicts than you. Less…public"

Gildor grinned crookedly "I daresay" He hesitated "You have an interest in the…let's call it ceremony. I don't care for broaching that topic but it's no taboo either"

I stared at him for a moment. He read me well. Too well, maybe. What a strange lot we were, the Eldar, I thought wryly. One moment rioting to rebel against the gods, the next moment pounding on old books shouting for law and decency.

"What happens at the ceremony?" I asked abruptly "I know it is a private question, I do not expect you to answer…"

Gildor shook his head "It's fine. But did Lor- did your father say nothing?"

I snorted softly "He considered us very much above the concerns of freakish lowborn and their associates"

"I take it you're not at all happy with your father"

He read me very well. My father was at the core of this "I am not. But that was his…let's call it attitude, for a long while. So…"

"So he did not want to risk putting funny ideas in his son's head" Gildor frowned "So what happened…" he took a moment to order his thoughts "It's better to have it by your own choice, to make your own decisions. And to make them standing…So what finally happens depends on your decisions, too. The traditional way is to recount the charges, accept or deny them, and have the judgement spoken. In our case we pushed for the ceremony. It is much less pleasant if you are hauled before the court instead of making them rush to you, I suppose. So – we were charged with living and lying together unrighteously and told to stop dishonouring our families. We said we would neither stop nor did we intend to marry. Before they could get a hold on that and tell us to leave the city, we both disclaimed our titles and our right to lands" Gildor shrugged "That's about it. You get outlawed without being called so"

"And your families…"

"I have not spoken to mine since then. Silmarusse did not either, I think. Only her sister cared little – she did not bother chucking Silmarusse out and left half of her house for us even after the official disclaiming"

"Then why…why did you leave for Middle Earth? If you had a place - Elmíre's was a grand house, if I remember rightly"

"It was. But all of Valinor would not have been large enough that neither of us ran into members of our…lets say family now and then. We were not only a disgrace to their name and honour, we were reasons for emotional pain as well. To take the opportunity and go was the best way. And some were thinking it snide to start picking on Elmíre for housing us, and we wanted more than to live off charity, a garden, and hard work. Have you known Silmarusse?"

I smiled slightly "Yes. Yes, I imagine she was eager to leave"

"She was" Gildor stared at the table for a moment "We had settled our business with the elves then, and without losing face for ourselves, we decided. But…you see, you can ignore elven law to some degree. You cannot escape Valinorean law, not within the western lands…We…thought Mandos would ignore us once we were out of direct line of sight…That was the real trouble about it all. Mandos. It took a while until we realized what Varda had meant when she said no marriage can be an unbinding. We went anyway. I wonder if our ploy worked – she should be free to make a new life if…when she returns"

I looked at him, and he did not look away now. The courtly raised part of me was shocked, considerably, that he spoke like this. As if we were friends, not fellow warriors. As if there was no distance of rank between us. The remaining – and far greater part – was deeply moved. Both by the information and his honesty.

"Tell me about your chase" I said quietly "Tell me what you think of these lands. Hórean gave us a quite detailed description of where they found Orcs traces, camps and trails. They are building something up here, spreading. And I have no choice but to pass through here, keep to the mountains. With all the gear and all the people, it would be madness to travel through the open"

He was glad for the change of topic "If you follow the mountains' feet you will come to the higher mountains eventually. Then you must turn either north or south if you do not wish to cross them"

"Yes" I scraped small chips of wood off the table, then stopped abruptly, realizing I was chipping someone's handiwork. With a sigh, I put my dagger on the table and instead clasped my glass. We did not intend to cross or pass those mountains. We intended to disappear into them.

"This 'army' …these elves you lead, it is not a purely military thing" Gildor stated the obvious "You have woodworkers, gardeners, healers, even children. Why do you risk travelling with all of them through this land at all? Are you looking for a place to settle? And why did you not send scouts first before bringing the whole thing?"

"Simply because there was no time. We had to start off, start quick, and try to go unseen"

Gildor smirked slightly, and I had to grin "That were my orders. You see I am not that likely to fulfil them completely. It was the best I could do that no elves saw us, nor orcs" I hesitated. My friend had not specified much, left everything to me. We knew the way, knew the need for secrecy and by now, speed. I knew I should and indeed had to trust into Ulmo's guidance. But how far could I trust Gildor? It was clear he had no firm direction, was undecided where to go, when, how far – if I spoke now what I wanted, it was responsibility. Would he go into the city? To stay? As he must, then? Right now Gildor perched on the edge of the camp chair, looking as if he wanted to leap up and pace the room. I shrugged inwardly once more. I did not lead this army for wisdom but for the excellent warriors of the Golden Flower. It had been the logical thing to do, moving in smaller groups towards the mountains, accompanying civilians and craftsmen with as much fighters as we could spare for each group. That took time, but maybe was not looking as if we were all fleeing for one point in the mountains. As the king had pointed out, getting all inside without giving away the location was the hardest part.

The king. I pulled the flat pendant out of my tunic and slipped the chain over my head. The silver disc glittered in the firelight, the engraved arms standing out black. I shoved the pendant across the table. Gildor picked it up slowly, frowning.

"You know the sign?"

Gildor nodded slowly "Turgon's House?"

"Turgon' s own arms"

There was a long silence.

"How did you come here? How is it that Hórean sent you?"

Gildor gave me a puzzled look "I bypassed a few human settlements, and we met"

"Was there water?"

"There was…Faire and I had stopped by a brook some while earlier. Our water-flasks were empty and that was the only brook we had found in a while. What do you mean?"

I stared at the table for a while "This is a strange chance. When we started, it was with the word of Ulmo himself that we would march under his own protection. That you and Hórean met, that he sent you when it was self-understood that…this was not a simple travel, and that you even found us-. I do not know what to do"

"Maybe tell me what is afoot without speaking in riddles?" Gildor suggested dryly.

"We must come east to the mountains" I said finally "And not go past them north or south. We will go inside. All Vinyamar is emptied…If you want to come with us, you have until then to decide. No one can leave the city once he has seen its location"

Gildor turned the pendant over thoughtfully "Isn' t it a high price, turning your back on all this, for one city?" he said finally, giving the emblem back to me "You have come here to find freedom. Now you lock yourself up in a hidden refuge"

Abandoning the rest of your people. That was what we did, didn't we? I could not say if he simply left that unsaid and it were my own doubts supplying the words.

"You have seen how we fare for yourself" I returned "I do not love the idea with all my heart. But it seems a much better chance to me than struggling for survival in orc-infested forests. We have lost so many. The jewels are a small price to pay if we can survive. And if we are lucky, we can outlast the shadow that way"

"You cannot outlast the shadow" Gildor said darkly "Either we fight and defeat it, or we die. Or we are sensible and learn to live here as the dark elves have learned. They need not hide"

"They fight for their own lives, Gildor. I do not wish to exchange places with any of them. They live and die by the sword like mortals"

"Is it so bad, I wonder" Gildor murmured "At least they live, and for a purpose. They fight the shadow. They kill orcs"

"I…have no answer to that" I said truthfully.

"Never mind" Gildor rubbed his eyes "I will think about it. But I am scout, but not a pathfinder. If you wish, I will ride with the outer guards when you move. For anything else, I' m afraid, I will need the time to think until we reach the mountains"

I nodded slowly "Maybe you should keep in mind that we go with the knowledge and guidance of the Lord of the Waters himself"

Gildor gave a small laugh "I do see that. But you know my relation to the Valar is a little…ambiguous"

I glanced at him, but he gave me no further clue. After a while I decided to change the topic once more "Your horse-"

"She's not mine" Gildor interrupted.

I raised one eyebrow.

Gildor sighed "She is Silmarusse's. She stayed with me after her death. There was no official choosing"

"It does not seem to matter" I said "I was just going to observe that she and you seem to be a pretty good team. If you would take charge of some of the younger outriders…"

Gildor raised frowned slightly "I do not think I would want that. You see what trouble that would make?"

I shrugged "Well, I am commander, am I not?"

"You are not making your position lighter, are you?" Gildor asked, amused. I laughed softly "My fighters are loyal for good reasons. If there is one mistake I am not going to make it is to repeat my father's emphasis on noble blood. The finest warriors I could send to battle are not royal, are not even born into the House. If we weren't' t going where we are, Gildor, I would not hesitate to take dark elven fighters as well. They are loyal to each other, and to their cause. That makes the best warriors, not bloodline and education. They have lived in this land for ages while we lazed about in the West" I shook my head in frustration "Those who object have missed out on the reality of Middle Earth, I suppose. They still talk about Silmarils, but we might as well face it – we should fight to hold the lands we have gained here and be glad if we even manage that. I cannot say I would get along nicely with the Avari, but we cut our own hand if we start trying to drive them from their own lands…I suppose you can see my fluffy ideas will not work with many others of power?"

Gildor took a sip of mead "I am hardly in any position to judge politics in general and your plans in specific, don't you think? I have spent the last year tracking and slaughtering and fighting my own demons. I have no wish to add political ghosts"

"No, I can see that" I smiled slightly. I refilled our glasses quietly "So what think you?"

"That perhaps you should put more trust in Ulmo's word?"

I smiled wryly "I was speaking of the lands, you see?"

"The way you head there are rolling plains, but they are neither empty nor flat. They are interspersed with rocky areas, deeper valleys, and woodland. You will have to store water, because brooks or even lakes you can only find in the hollows. There are no greater waters in the plain…I think. If not your guide provides for it" I could not say if Gildor was mocking me or speaking in good faith, but he continued without break "If not, you will run into trouble. No matter when, where and how fast you cross. His power is with water, not with orcs. Faire and I have been alone, and quick to disappear, and still we were tracked and followed. This company cannot hope for very much speed. You shout meat to any starved orc. And sport to any other"

I nodded "We can keep a tight ring of guards around the whole group, and another of fighters, both on foot and on horseback. While we are in a place. Should we be forced to run for cover, we will get into trouble"

"Scouts and outriders?"

"Twenty extremely good ones, another twenty we had to scrape together"

Gildor frowned "That is not much. Or rather, not enough for these lands"

"I know" I watched him "We had double as much before I had to try and unite at least three houses and their subdivisions, plus a wriggling sack full of individualistic craftsmen and aristocratic healers. We had a number of Avari on for pay, but they keep to the forested lands. Some would have come, but our most prissy ones considered themselves too noble to be guarded by barbarians"

Gildor whistled softly through his teeth "Why do I think especially you have a problem with them?"

"Because Turgon assigned all the hopeless cases to me?" I leant back in my chair and stretched, balancing the folding chair precariously on edge.

"Couldn't' t you have offered your dark elf-guards more pay to stay on through the flats and ignore the prissies?"

I shook my head "You don't know them that well, do you?"

Gildor shrugged "No. Macar's soldiers are scouts and farscouts and we stayed to ourselves except for regular reports back to the realm. I won't be any help for policies"

"Macar?"

"A scout of Finrod"

I gave Gildor a puzzled glance "Finrod?"

"Silmarusse attached us to his following on the Ice" he said with some hesitation "We stayed on, somehow, when we came here. Until…she was killed"

"Then why are you here?" I asked "And not with the King?"

Gildor shrugged "My path is my own"

"Certainly" I watched him thoughtfully "But you could go back to his lands"

"I could. And you could finish what you wanted to say of the Avari"

I hesitated. Strange chance indeed. Had I made a mistake revealing the truth to him? Well, it was too late now. If anything, he would have to leave before we reached the Echoriath.

"Their main concern is for their lands" I said finally "They want to keep their freedom of wandering and hunting, and do not care for the Feanorians' revenge or our dividing the rest up for kingdoms. They will take pay in things they do not have for themselves, but it is useless to try and bribe them with more pay than they consider they need"

"Yet they ally with us"

"When it saves their lands. They will share them with us even. But they do not make good mercenaries"

Gildor laughed wryly "You think I will make a better one?"

"Ah" I said "That depends on what you want" Seeing Gildor's eyes narrow I added "What you want for your life, I think. Will you wander the wild, do you want to go back and fight in the sieges, or will you go into the city and 'turn your back' on all of this, as you said?"

For a moment Gildor seemed to consider not answering, but then said "I do not know what I want. As I said, I will accompany your host and use the time to think"

"What does your heart say?" I asked softly after a while.

I had not meant to either insult or challenge him, but realized he was suddenly holding on to some pleasantly controlled mien.

"My heart bids me" he said calmly after a while "to hunt out every single orc and kill as messily as any servant of the shadow could ever contrive, and still I would hate them"

He had switched to Quenya. It was more of an oath than an answer. I held his gaze, cool and green-blue, for a moment, but found no answer.

"I go with you" he said abruptly "If we meet orcs, I can at least count the journey a success"

Chapter notes:

Quenya: About fifty years after the Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reuniting, Thingol banned Quenya as being the language of the kinslayers from his realm and it was abandoned in daily use. The exiled Noldor took Sindarin as their language.

"' Now thou shalt go at last to Gondolin, Turgon; and I (Ulmo) will maintain my power in the vale of Sirion, and in all the waters therein, so that none shall mark thy going, nor shall any find there the hidden entrance against thy will…' Then…Turgon sent forth all his people…and they passed away, company by company, secretly, under the shadow of Ered Wethrin, and they came unseen to Gondolin, and none knew whither they had gone" (The Silmarillion, Of the Noldor in Beleriand)

Hórean: Q, v. hórea, impulsive; scout-captain

Elmire: Q, star-jewel; Silmarusse's sister

Macar: Q, sword-fighter; leader of Finrod's scouts