Stone
Slowly he fingered the small stone, already worn smooth by his caresses. For centuries it had sat in a small box, protected by velvet and satin. Few days had gone by where its owner had not picked it up and run his fingers over it, trying desperately to retain the happy memories of the one he loved. This time, he thought back to the time he had been an Elfling. 'Nana!' the child cried. In his hand he cradled a small greenish stone. 'I found me an Elfstone!'
On the day his mother had sailed, she had pressed a small stone into his palm, its surface dark green and sparkling in the sun. 'Here is a real Elfstone, Elladan.'