Barad Lomin
Chapter III
Distant Relations
Keren knew that when lost in the woods people often finds themselves traveling in circles, but cared not at all. Elves were capricious, her mother had said, but never had Keren heard they were cruel. It troubled her that she should suffer at their hands, small though that suffering may be in comparison to marriage with Millerson. She wiped an angry tear from her eye, thinking on the waybread which the elves had eaten and was now not enough to carry her through to her destination.
She never intended to crash into the first elf party, and certainly would have avoided the second, but once again, she sprang into the center of another group of elves. The elven ladies were not surprised in the least at her sudden entrance, merely halting their activity and looking at her curiously. Keren stared at all the faces, staring back at her, then turned and would have fled to some other place, but a voice stopped her. Literally. For the power of this voice was such that no mortal could disobey it.
The voice said simply, "Hold." Neither shouted nor whispered. Then, "Well, turn about, girl. Let us look at you."
Keren turned and stood silent, watching the speaker: A tall elf lady of some importance, it would appear, for her gown, though simple and of a solid green color, was richly textured with flowers and leaves woven into the cloth. A necklace with a pendant in the form of an eight pointed star adorned her throat and four rings were on her fingers. A green stone in a diadem sparkled from her brow. Her eyes were gray-green and her hair was a radiant amber gold, in three braids almost to her knees.
"Your pardon, please lady, I beg of you. I meant not to disturb you," stammered Keren, "or to disturb anyone."
The lady laughed. "Disturb us? Why, my dear, you are no disruption. We have been expecting you, though not quite in the manner in which you arrived. It was on your account we moved here, for a time, until we should encounter you."
Keren's face must have borne a stupid, blank look, for the ladies began to speak kind encouragement all at once and Keren, fearing another round of elvish jests,stepped backward again.
"Oh, please child," said the lady. "You need not fear us. We are not goblins who delight in tormenting frightened mortals. And we will deal with our children for the manner in which they sent you here. Come Keren Woodman, sit with us as we spin and weave, and tell us your story, for your travels interest us and now we would have all the tale."
Startled that they knew her name, Keren followed them to a clearing where there were set looms and spinning wheels upon which unfinished work waited for completion. The ladies each went to her work.
"I am Lurisa, lady of this small elven realm, for my husband, Morfindel, is lord. We once were called King and Queen, but others greater than we have refused such titles, so we also have discarded them. You need not fear us for we have ever been ready to the aid of one so close of kin."
"Kin?! I am no kin of elves. How do you say I am close kin?"
"We must have your story first," said one of the ladies. "Have patience. All will be explained in due course."
And so Keren told all, beginning with the latest and ending with her childhood at which point she repeated her incredulity at being called kin to elves.
Lurisa smiled sadly. "My daughter wed a mortal man, many centuries ago as you count years. Her children were half elven and could choose the doom of man, or the life of the elves. They chose mortality. You are a descendant of one of those children."
After a long silence, Keren said, "My mother never spoke of that to me."
"Though she instructed you well, I can see," said yet another lady, named Springlily. To Keren's questioning glance she continued, "You spoke the truth, so far as you knew it, and you have patiently borne with our questions. You did not seek us but let us find you, though you may think you fled from us instead. You have not tried to impress and so make yourself look foolish. Your mother taught you well, indeed."
Lurisa nodded. "Though we meddle rarely in the affairs of mortals, still we keep contact with your mother's people. You were going to them and we will help you on your way, but be not over eager to be gone, for we are not over eager to see one who so much bears the likeness of her foremother leave us so soon."
"Why? Is she not with you, here in your realm?"
"She found the sadness of her memories too great and sailed into the West. I may go to her, but she will not return to me."
"Oh," Keren said and thoughtfully picked up a bit of wool, spinning it between her fingers until it became a fine thread.
"There is one with skill as a spinner," laughed Lurisa. "Come here girl, and help me."
Keren obeyed and was soon spinning a fine thread. Lurisa took up a stringed instrument, the likes of which Keren had never seen before. It was long and narrow, like a split log, but hollow with many tone holes. The lady began to play and at once Keren thought of waterfalls, and mountain streams, melting after a long winter. The other ladies sang and as soon as Keren was sure of the words she joined, for it was a spinning song of nonsense such as she and her sisters-in-law sang at the wheel.
The night was wearing away and as the sky began to lighten the ladies called for servants to aid them in returning the spinning wheels and looms to their places inside the elven abode. Numerous elf maidens helped carry the things to the ruins of an ancient castle. From the front, it appeared decrepit and fallen down, but inside was such stone work and carpentry as Keren had only heard of in stories about places long ago and far away. She had not leave to tarry and gaze for she was also carrying a spinning wheel. It was light and made her wonder why two elf maidens were required to carry them.
"It is because our elven lords require it and they, as yet, have no sway over you," said Lurisa from behind.
"I beg your pardon?" Keren gasped, startled.
"You were wondering why two elf women are required to carry a spinning wheel and three a loom, when you are able to carry one so easily alone."
"That is so, my lady, but I meant no offense by it. Had I known you could read my mind, I know not what I should have done."
Lurisa laughed. "I can not read thoughts, at least not through the back of ones head, but I saw the question in your eyes as you glanced about."
Keren nodded and wondered if she would ever again have a private thought.
Lurisa smiled and said nothing
The elf maidens walked so lightly that Keren could hear only her own soft footsteps. She was walking no more heavily than in her father's house, but in these halls they echoed and made the maidens laugh, saying she sounded like a mouse striding through the palace. Keren could not help but laugh at the thought for often she had felt like a mouse under the watchful eye of her father. They asked why she laughed and when she told them they grew somber, saying that mortals found jests in strange places.
When the looms and spinning wheels were again in Lurisa's workroom the elves lead Keren to a place of lodging where she left her belongings. They then bade her bathe and change her raiment for she must come before the elven lord and hear his judgment. Her heart leaped, for she had forgotten of the elven lord and only now remembered her mother saying none passed through or stayed in any elven realm without leave. The maidens lead her to their quarters where they chose a fitting gown and hastened her out to a ravine with a waterfall flowing down into a deep pool where they were wont to bathe and swim. Quickly, as though she were a child being made ready to present before visiting relations, they aided Keren in her toilet and applied ointment to her skin and dressed her.
"Your hair is too short. Why did you ever cut it off?" fussed Thistledown.
"Nonsense!" cried Safronela, who supplanted Thistledown as hair dresser. She must have done well for the others laughed and clapped their hands with delight when she stepped away.
Finally they shod her with light slippers and sped off, pulling her behind them. She felt her feet barely touched the ground, they ran so fast.
Presently they came to a large, oaken door which opened before them, seemingly of its own accord. They entered a large, high ceiled hall which was walled as with tree trunks. Upon closer inspection, Keren saw that the walls were carved stone columns which arched overhead and met at the top, forming the roof. Light shown through openings on all sides and the air flowed freely through the room. Keren would have held back if the maidens had permitted but they impelled her forward, allowing her no chance to observe the hall more closely.
"Come now, you can inspect the architecture at your leisure, when you have it, but now is not the time," whispered Thistledown.
Never in her life had Keren found herself fair to look upon and had spent very little time before a looking glass so now, seeing all eyes gazing at her, she knew not what to do other than allow Thistledown to guide her to the dais where she saw an elf sitting upon a finely carved stone chair. She could not guess at his height but seated he came to Lurisa's shoulder as she stood beside him on his right, one step below. He was dark of hair and gray eyed, wearing a crown of silver holly leaves and red berries on his brow. In his hand he held a carved oak staff and a sword, which had a single eight rayed star engraved on the blade near the hilt with an amber gem stone at its center, lay at his feet. No one spoke or even moved for such a long time that it seemed the elves were statues of stone. Not knowing what else to do, Keren stood still also, her hands clasped at her waist and waited.
"Thistledown, I must commend you on your choice of gown for our guest," said Lurisa at last.
Thistledown curtsied and squeezed Keren's arm. For her part, Keren could not take her eyes from the elven lord and his lady. She was certain she had never seen them before, and yet somehow felt she had always known them. As they gazed into each other's eyes Keren began to remember a meeting she had almost forgotten, of this elf and his lady and her mother. He had lowered himself to a knee and extended a hand to her, saying "will you not allow me to greet you properly?" When she obeyed and reached her hand forward, he took it and kissed it so lightly, yet she still remembered the tingle that little kiss left behind, and how she hid behind her mother's skirts afterward.
At last Morfindel smiled and stood. "Welcome, my daughter. It has been long since I saw the child whose likeness you bear. Again, welcome." His voice was low, though not deep, and quiet, like the soft tolling of one of the bells of Barad Lomin's tower.
Keren curtsied. "Thank you, my lord."
"We have heard your tale and gladly welcome you in our midst," he continued. "We are about to set at table." He stepped down and approached her. Offering his hand, he added "Will you join us?"
She placed her hand on his and allowed herself to be lead to a banquet hall where many tables were spread and servants were running to and fro, carrying dishes and arranging place settings. In those days, to Keren's knowledge, people ate with only knife and fork, spoons being used for serving, but here was knife, fork, spoon,goblet, plate, napkin... and other things for which she had no names.
When all were seated, at Morfindel's command, they stood together and turned to face the west. Morfindel said some words in their elvish tongue, then bade them sit and enjoy the meal. Keren followed their example, mystified as to the meaning of this ceremony. Thistledown, who was seated beside her, leaned to her and whispered, "It is a Numenorean custom we adopted, to share a moment of silence, in thanks for our food, facing the west where lies our final home and the Lords of the Earth, and beyond to the One Who Created All Things. We do this to honor the request of your ancestor, the sea captain who wed the lord and lady's daughter, lest his descendants forget."
Keren nodded. Since the death of her mother her family discarded the practice, but giving thanks for a meal at least she understood. Following the example of others, she picked up a fork and knife and began to eat. The food was delicious and she ate hungrily, for she had not eaten a full meal in several days, having depended upon her waybread for sustenance. Thistledown chuckled and said "Were I your mother I would scold you, and in the future I will instruct you on proper table manners, but for the time being we shall let you eat like one of the fellows."
Keren merely smiled at her and nodded, having yet to finish chewing a bite. "My mother did indeed try to teach me such manners as I know, which differ but little from your own. I do ask your pardon though, for I have traveled far and was very hungry," she said at last.
"Thistledown speaks of manners. You should see her eat after running about on the Lady's errands all day," commented Jack, who sat across from them.
"Thistledown likes to think herself the Lady's chief maid-in-waiting," said Sam. "I am trying to change that."
"And so you may in due time," said Thistledown with a wry smile.
The banter continued and her hunger pangs relented. Keren sat and listened and smiled on them but joined not in the jesting. A feeling crept over her that she did not belong here. All seemed so unreal to her senses, yet it was neither dream, nor vision, nor trick of the mind, somehow more real than even her own room in her father's house. Here, seated in the midst of elves and, in part, one of them. Such a strange turn of events. Her mother told stories of Numenore and its downfall, but never said she was a descendant of a man and an elf woman, no matter how long ago the union took place. Keren wondered if her mother had even known herself.
The banquet was breaking up now and the elves were returning to the hall where minstrels took up their instruments. She followed Thistledown and her friends, reviewing in her mind the story of how her parents met and married. He was traveling with his father on King's business in the north. They stayed at an inn which was owned by a friend of a fellow knight in the company. Her mother was a daughter of the innkeeper, a former advisor to the King who had fallen into disfavor. Woodman spoke with Miriel as she waited upon them and once or twice in private and each found in the other a ready companion. Her parents were not willing to let her go so far so soon after their meeting so they parted for a time. He returned and lived among her people for a year after which her parents approved the match. Two years after they wed they moved south to Barad Lomin. For many happy years she remembered her father and mother's laughter, playing with her siblings and making housework a game. But the winter she turned fifteen a plague struck down her mother and infant brother. Her father's laughter ceased and Keren took up her mother's household duties, leaving her brothers to sorrow for the loss of their mother and the companionship of their sister.
Keren's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of singing. Quickly, she lifted her head and her eyes met the gaze of Holly Starfoot. It was not he who had struck up the tune, though he stood with his lute. He had been watching her and seemed to have read her thoughts, for that same look was on his face which she had seen in the forest. She found she could not take her eyes from his and wondered at this power elves had over mortals. At last he smiled, knowing her discomfort, and released her, moving away to join the other minstrels as they played and sang.
"Well, what were you thinking that held Starfoot's attention so?" asked Thistledown.
"Just about my parents," murmured Keren.
"Have a care," cautioned Safronela. "You are smitten of one who reads a woman's heart more thoroughly than I read a book on elven history."
Keren put her hand to her mouth, closed her eyes and sighed. "He feels sorry for me. That is all. I am too far beneath his station to be 'smitten.' He would not..."
"Keep thinking those thoughts and you'll catch him for sure," murmured Thistledown.
"But I wish to 'catch' no one!"
"And such is your peril if you stand about so easily to be caught yourself. Come! Join us in the dance!" said Safronela and taking Keren by the hand, led her to a far corner.
"But I know not...!"
"It matters not! We shall teach you," said Thistledown.
So they taught her a most intricate dance and were pleased when she caught on so quickly. It seemed to Keren the elf maidens were playing a game with the elves, for when one approached them, the maidens gave a shout and they were off to another far corner. A little confused, she allowed herself to be pulled hither and yon but presently begged leave to rest.
"Of course, you poor thing. You are a mortal. We almost forgot. Come with us. We shall see you to your bed and then return to the dance," said Safronela as they led her from the hall.
"And about time it is too," observed Starfoot to the flutist as they departed, who nodded and smiled as he played. "Which one of us should speak to them about their new toy, who is no toy?"
"I shall speak to the lady and allow her to deal with them," said Springlily. "Young elves are such enthusiastic creatures."
Chapter III
Distant Relations
Keren knew that when lost in the woods people often finds themselves traveling in circles, but cared not at all. Elves were capricious, her mother had said, but never had Keren heard they were cruel. It troubled her that she should suffer at their hands, small though that suffering may be in comparison to marriage with Millerson. She wiped an angry tear from her eye, thinking on the waybread which the elves had eaten and was now not enough to carry her through to her destination.
She never intended to crash into the first elf party, and certainly would have avoided the second, but once again, she sprang into the center of another group of elves. The elven ladies were not surprised in the least at her sudden entrance, merely halting their activity and looking at her curiously. Keren stared at all the faces, staring back at her, then turned and would have fled to some other place, but a voice stopped her. Literally. For the power of this voice was such that no mortal could disobey it.
The voice said simply, "Hold." Neither shouted nor whispered. Then, "Well, turn about, girl. Let us look at you."
Keren turned and stood silent, watching the speaker: A tall elf lady of some importance, it would appear, for her gown, though simple and of a solid green color, was richly textured with flowers and leaves woven into the cloth. A necklace with a pendant in the form of an eight pointed star adorned her throat and four rings were on her fingers. A green stone in a diadem sparkled from her brow. Her eyes were gray-green and her hair was a radiant amber gold, in three braids almost to her knees.
"Your pardon, please lady, I beg of you. I meant not to disturb you," stammered Keren, "or to disturb anyone."
The lady laughed. "Disturb us? Why, my dear, you are no disruption. We have been expecting you, though not quite in the manner in which you arrived. It was on your account we moved here, for a time, until we should encounter you."
Keren's face must have borne a stupid, blank look, for the ladies began to speak kind encouragement all at once and Keren, fearing another round of elvish jests,stepped backward again.
"Oh, please child," said the lady. "You need not fear us. We are not goblins who delight in tormenting frightened mortals. And we will deal with our children for the manner in which they sent you here. Come Keren Woodman, sit with us as we spin and weave, and tell us your story, for your travels interest us and now we would have all the tale."
Startled that they knew her name, Keren followed them to a clearing where there were set looms and spinning wheels upon which unfinished work waited for completion. The ladies each went to her work.
"I am Lurisa, lady of this small elven realm, for my husband, Morfindel, is lord. We once were called King and Queen, but others greater than we have refused such titles, so we also have discarded them. You need not fear us for we have ever been ready to the aid of one so close of kin."
"Kin?! I am no kin of elves. How do you say I am close kin?"
"We must have your story first," said one of the ladies. "Have patience. All will be explained in due course."
And so Keren told all, beginning with the latest and ending with her childhood at which point she repeated her incredulity at being called kin to elves.
Lurisa smiled sadly. "My daughter wed a mortal man, many centuries ago as you count years. Her children were half elven and could choose the doom of man, or the life of the elves. They chose mortality. You are a descendant of one of those children."
After a long silence, Keren said, "My mother never spoke of that to me."
"Though she instructed you well, I can see," said yet another lady, named Springlily. To Keren's questioning glance she continued, "You spoke the truth, so far as you knew it, and you have patiently borne with our questions. You did not seek us but let us find you, though you may think you fled from us instead. You have not tried to impress and so make yourself look foolish. Your mother taught you well, indeed."
Lurisa nodded. "Though we meddle rarely in the affairs of mortals, still we keep contact with your mother's people. You were going to them and we will help you on your way, but be not over eager to be gone, for we are not over eager to see one who so much bears the likeness of her foremother leave us so soon."
"Why? Is she not with you, here in your realm?"
"She found the sadness of her memories too great and sailed into the West. I may go to her, but she will not return to me."
"Oh," Keren said and thoughtfully picked up a bit of wool, spinning it between her fingers until it became a fine thread.
"There is one with skill as a spinner," laughed Lurisa. "Come here girl, and help me."
Keren obeyed and was soon spinning a fine thread. Lurisa took up a stringed instrument, the likes of which Keren had never seen before. It was long and narrow, like a split log, but hollow with many tone holes. The lady began to play and at once Keren thought of waterfalls, and mountain streams, melting after a long winter. The other ladies sang and as soon as Keren was sure of the words she joined, for it was a spinning song of nonsense such as she and her sisters-in-law sang at the wheel.
The night was wearing away and as the sky began to lighten the ladies called for servants to aid them in returning the spinning wheels and looms to their places inside the elven abode. Numerous elf maidens helped carry the things to the ruins of an ancient castle. From the front, it appeared decrepit and fallen down, but inside was such stone work and carpentry as Keren had only heard of in stories about places long ago and far away. She had not leave to tarry and gaze for she was also carrying a spinning wheel. It was light and made her wonder why two elf maidens were required to carry them.
"It is because our elven lords require it and they, as yet, have no sway over you," said Lurisa from behind.
"I beg your pardon?" Keren gasped, startled.
"You were wondering why two elf women are required to carry a spinning wheel and three a loom, when you are able to carry one so easily alone."
"That is so, my lady, but I meant no offense by it. Had I known you could read my mind, I know not what I should have done."
Lurisa laughed. "I can not read thoughts, at least not through the back of ones head, but I saw the question in your eyes as you glanced about."
Keren nodded and wondered if she would ever again have a private thought.
Lurisa smiled and said nothing
The elf maidens walked so lightly that Keren could hear only her own soft footsteps. She was walking no more heavily than in her father's house, but in these halls they echoed and made the maidens laugh, saying she sounded like a mouse striding through the palace. Keren could not help but laugh at the thought for often she had felt like a mouse under the watchful eye of her father. They asked why she laughed and when she told them they grew somber, saying that mortals found jests in strange places.
When the looms and spinning wheels were again in Lurisa's workroom the elves lead Keren to a place of lodging where she left her belongings. They then bade her bathe and change her raiment for she must come before the elven lord and hear his judgment. Her heart leaped, for she had forgotten of the elven lord and only now remembered her mother saying none passed through or stayed in any elven realm without leave. The maidens lead her to their quarters where they chose a fitting gown and hastened her out to a ravine with a waterfall flowing down into a deep pool where they were wont to bathe and swim. Quickly, as though she were a child being made ready to present before visiting relations, they aided Keren in her toilet and applied ointment to her skin and dressed her.
"Your hair is too short. Why did you ever cut it off?" fussed Thistledown.
"Nonsense!" cried Safronela, who supplanted Thistledown as hair dresser. She must have done well for the others laughed and clapped their hands with delight when she stepped away.
Finally they shod her with light slippers and sped off, pulling her behind them. She felt her feet barely touched the ground, they ran so fast.
Presently they came to a large, oaken door which opened before them, seemingly of its own accord. They entered a large, high ceiled hall which was walled as with tree trunks. Upon closer inspection, Keren saw that the walls were carved stone columns which arched overhead and met at the top, forming the roof. Light shown through openings on all sides and the air flowed freely through the room. Keren would have held back if the maidens had permitted but they impelled her forward, allowing her no chance to observe the hall more closely.
"Come now, you can inspect the architecture at your leisure, when you have it, but now is not the time," whispered Thistledown.
Never in her life had Keren found herself fair to look upon and had spent very little time before a looking glass so now, seeing all eyes gazing at her, she knew not what to do other than allow Thistledown to guide her to the dais where she saw an elf sitting upon a finely carved stone chair. She could not guess at his height but seated he came to Lurisa's shoulder as she stood beside him on his right, one step below. He was dark of hair and gray eyed, wearing a crown of silver holly leaves and red berries on his brow. In his hand he held a carved oak staff and a sword, which had a single eight rayed star engraved on the blade near the hilt with an amber gem stone at its center, lay at his feet. No one spoke or even moved for such a long time that it seemed the elves were statues of stone. Not knowing what else to do, Keren stood still also, her hands clasped at her waist and waited.
"Thistledown, I must commend you on your choice of gown for our guest," said Lurisa at last.
Thistledown curtsied and squeezed Keren's arm. For her part, Keren could not take her eyes from the elven lord and his lady. She was certain she had never seen them before, and yet somehow felt she had always known them. As they gazed into each other's eyes Keren began to remember a meeting she had almost forgotten, of this elf and his lady and her mother. He had lowered himself to a knee and extended a hand to her, saying "will you not allow me to greet you properly?" When she obeyed and reached her hand forward, he took it and kissed it so lightly, yet she still remembered the tingle that little kiss left behind, and how she hid behind her mother's skirts afterward.
At last Morfindel smiled and stood. "Welcome, my daughter. It has been long since I saw the child whose likeness you bear. Again, welcome." His voice was low, though not deep, and quiet, like the soft tolling of one of the bells of Barad Lomin's tower.
Keren curtsied. "Thank you, my lord."
"We have heard your tale and gladly welcome you in our midst," he continued. "We are about to set at table." He stepped down and approached her. Offering his hand, he added "Will you join us?"
She placed her hand on his and allowed herself to be lead to a banquet hall where many tables were spread and servants were running to and fro, carrying dishes and arranging place settings. In those days, to Keren's knowledge, people ate with only knife and fork, spoons being used for serving, but here was knife, fork, spoon,goblet, plate, napkin... and other things for which she had no names.
When all were seated, at Morfindel's command, they stood together and turned to face the west. Morfindel said some words in their elvish tongue, then bade them sit and enjoy the meal. Keren followed their example, mystified as to the meaning of this ceremony. Thistledown, who was seated beside her, leaned to her and whispered, "It is a Numenorean custom we adopted, to share a moment of silence, in thanks for our food, facing the west where lies our final home and the Lords of the Earth, and beyond to the One Who Created All Things. We do this to honor the request of your ancestor, the sea captain who wed the lord and lady's daughter, lest his descendants forget."
Keren nodded. Since the death of her mother her family discarded the practice, but giving thanks for a meal at least she understood. Following the example of others, she picked up a fork and knife and began to eat. The food was delicious and she ate hungrily, for she had not eaten a full meal in several days, having depended upon her waybread for sustenance. Thistledown chuckled and said "Were I your mother I would scold you, and in the future I will instruct you on proper table manners, but for the time being we shall let you eat like one of the fellows."
Keren merely smiled at her and nodded, having yet to finish chewing a bite. "My mother did indeed try to teach me such manners as I know, which differ but little from your own. I do ask your pardon though, for I have traveled far and was very hungry," she said at last.
"Thistledown speaks of manners. You should see her eat after running about on the Lady's errands all day," commented Jack, who sat across from them.
"Thistledown likes to think herself the Lady's chief maid-in-waiting," said Sam. "I am trying to change that."
"And so you may in due time," said Thistledown with a wry smile.
The banter continued and her hunger pangs relented. Keren sat and listened and smiled on them but joined not in the jesting. A feeling crept over her that she did not belong here. All seemed so unreal to her senses, yet it was neither dream, nor vision, nor trick of the mind, somehow more real than even her own room in her father's house. Here, seated in the midst of elves and, in part, one of them. Such a strange turn of events. Her mother told stories of Numenore and its downfall, but never said she was a descendant of a man and an elf woman, no matter how long ago the union took place. Keren wondered if her mother had even known herself.
The banquet was breaking up now and the elves were returning to the hall where minstrels took up their instruments. She followed Thistledown and her friends, reviewing in her mind the story of how her parents met and married. He was traveling with his father on King's business in the north. They stayed at an inn which was owned by a friend of a fellow knight in the company. Her mother was a daughter of the innkeeper, a former advisor to the King who had fallen into disfavor. Woodman spoke with Miriel as she waited upon them and once or twice in private and each found in the other a ready companion. Her parents were not willing to let her go so far so soon after their meeting so they parted for a time. He returned and lived among her people for a year after which her parents approved the match. Two years after they wed they moved south to Barad Lomin. For many happy years she remembered her father and mother's laughter, playing with her siblings and making housework a game. But the winter she turned fifteen a plague struck down her mother and infant brother. Her father's laughter ceased and Keren took up her mother's household duties, leaving her brothers to sorrow for the loss of their mother and the companionship of their sister.
Keren's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of singing. Quickly, she lifted her head and her eyes met the gaze of Holly Starfoot. It was not he who had struck up the tune, though he stood with his lute. He had been watching her and seemed to have read her thoughts, for that same look was on his face which she had seen in the forest. She found she could not take her eyes from his and wondered at this power elves had over mortals. At last he smiled, knowing her discomfort, and released her, moving away to join the other minstrels as they played and sang.
"Well, what were you thinking that held Starfoot's attention so?" asked Thistledown.
"Just about my parents," murmured Keren.
"Have a care," cautioned Safronela. "You are smitten of one who reads a woman's heart more thoroughly than I read a book on elven history."
Keren put her hand to her mouth, closed her eyes and sighed. "He feels sorry for me. That is all. I am too far beneath his station to be 'smitten.' He would not..."
"Keep thinking those thoughts and you'll catch him for sure," murmured Thistledown.
"But I wish to 'catch' no one!"
"And such is your peril if you stand about so easily to be caught yourself. Come! Join us in the dance!" said Safronela and taking Keren by the hand, led her to a far corner.
"But I know not...!"
"It matters not! We shall teach you," said Thistledown.
So they taught her a most intricate dance and were pleased when she caught on so quickly. It seemed to Keren the elf maidens were playing a game with the elves, for when one approached them, the maidens gave a shout and they were off to another far corner. A little confused, she allowed herself to be pulled hither and yon but presently begged leave to rest.
"Of course, you poor thing. You are a mortal. We almost forgot. Come with us. We shall see you to your bed and then return to the dance," said Safronela as they led her from the hall.
"And about time it is too," observed Starfoot to the flutist as they departed, who nodded and smiled as he played. "Which one of us should speak to them about their new toy, who is no toy?"
"I shall speak to the lady and allow her to deal with them," said Springlily. "Young elves are such enthusiastic creatures."