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The Pools
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By dusk they came within sight of the spring feeding the falls of Irvin, the source of the Narog. They hurried on, the deep shades of evening stretching over them from the mountains behind, as the woods became dim. But the travelers kept on for several more hours until at last Mírian heard the sound of falling water, and they finally came to the shores of the pool. It was now the middle of the night, but the crescent moon high above them lit the stony shores, and its reflection on the dark surface reminded them indeed of their beloved Lake Mithrim.
At last they stopped to make camp. Mírian had grown more accustomed to the long marches elves are wont to take on journeys, but now she was very weary. The elves still stayed up a good while and took their ease, for all could feel that the protection of Ulmo still lingered in that place. Mírian felt it too, but with the soothful sighing of the waterfall and soft splashing of the pool's little waves, she was soon fast asleep.
It was well into the morning when at last the girl stirred. She eased into waking, watching the long pine needles and the browning yellow leaves dancing in the faint breeze above her as the morning light filtered through them. Mírian got up and wandered over to the clear pool, where she found the others drinking and washing, and followed suit. The water was cool and refreshing, and she waded in the shallows and wandered toward the falls, inspecting all the area in wonder and curiosity. The power of Ulmo was in the place, as it was now in her heart, and her elf companions noticed an unusual calm on her face, and wondered.
The falls made many little waves in the water, which glittered in the bright morning sun. Gilduriel came up to her, and pulled up the cord hanging from her neck so that the brooch hung openly. And the reflection of the sun against the the fair little gems lit against the young lady's face.
"Ah there then, doubly fitting is the name Rían chose for you. Now do you look like a maiden of the Eldalië!" she said gaily. "Does she not, my daughter?"
Lothaelin smiled. "Indeed, mother," she said. "You seem in a curious mood, daughter. Less worried and uncertain, now more assured as an aged sage."
In that hallowed place Mírian glanced over at her foster mother, looking clear eyed and sure hearted. Then she gazed out at the water, and softly she chanted a sorrowful rhyme:
Long has the Shadow been kept at bay
By kings and guards fair and tall
But if pride in thy works steers thy way
Kingdoms and kin are doomed to fall
By the voice of the sea do I call
To its shores you flee this doom
Ere Shadow flows o'er one and all
And thy shining keeps be thy tomb
Her foster folk stared at her amazed, and perceived that the Lord of Waters had indeed set the words in her heart. Then she continued. "I have seen and heard many things in my dreams this past night, lady," she said. "I saw a large knightley king standing in the surf at the sea with storms overhead. I saw glimpses of the fair elven cities of different hidden places. But I now know the message I am to deliver to the lords of these places. Secure they might seem, hidden well with the strength of many warriors to guard them, but they are all in great danger. Their dooms are not far off, now. Not by the measure of the elves, at least. Though they may be beholden to the fair works of metal and stone which they have wrought for their dwellings, they must release their hearts from these things if they are to save their peoples."
Cúdolin standing nearby smiled in his wonder. "The Lord of Waters hallows this place still, and here he has given you his message. Lord Ulmo is said to be among the wisest and most foresighted of the Valar, and these gifts he now shares with you. Come! By nightfall we must fare ourselves onward, that you might safely deliver it."
"But whither shall we go from here?" Mírian asked. "Do you know where these elf kingdoms lie?"
"Of one we are sure," said Lothaelin. "For some among us have kin there, deep in the forests we saw a ways eastward from the heights of the hills. Another we believe can be found simply by following the Narog here. That way is also the fastest way south to Cirdan's realm. Surely this message is meant for the kings of the Noldor, one of which we may find that way."
"But," said Cúdolin, "the way south crosses many leagues of wide open plains, and the whereabouts of that kingdom is uncertain. It is a shorter distance to reach the cover of the forest. If we visit Menegroth first maybe they would help us from there to the Noldoli king. Then young Mírian could deliver her message to two kingdoms. For the rhyme of her dream did not specify the Elves out of the West over the Unwilling."
There continued to be some debate about this. In the end those wishing to head to Menegroth prevailed. Now they continued to rest and enjoy the air and water of that hallowed place. For the wider world was still dangerous, and now it was prudent to return to marching under cover of night. And so when at last the sun sank set they resumed their march heading east.