-1Lothlorien resounded with the shouts of elves. The whole forest was filled with bowyers making bows, fletchers making arrows, and archers honing their skill. Celeborn was practicing his swordsmanship.

Elamanelessa came upon him in a field, practicing fencing with blunted swords. He was practicing against another Elf. When their match ended, she walked up to him. "May I practice?" she asked, smiling.

"Certainly!"

They began to duel. Within twenty seconds, Elamanelessa had knocked Celeborn's sword out of his hand and toppled the Elf, who lay gasping on the forest floor.

Bargil had been sent as a messenger to Valinor to ask for the aid of a cohort of well-armed Vanyar. Another messenger had departed to seek Elwing at the Tower of Seabirds, in hopes that she could convince her husband Earendil to join the defense of Elvenhome. When Elamanelessa discovered this, she went to Celeborn.

"I hear you have sent for aid. Is our situation so dire? I thought Lothlorien had warriors of its own."

"It does, but we are for the most part Silvan Elves and no match for Balrogs. Only the greatest Elves can stand against the Valaraukar one on one, and even then it is a terrible risk."

"You have called for the Vanyar. Would you not rather have better aid?"

"The Vanyar are the mightiest of all the Elves in Arda, as you well know –"

"Of course; I am half Vanya myself," Elamanelessa interrupted. "But actually that is not true. Feanor, a Noldo, was the greatest of all the Eldar."

"That is indeed true, though Feanor could be terrible indeed; but he is gone from among us. It is prophesied that he will not return from Mandos until the End."

"And what makes you certain the End is not upon us? Have you ever heard of Balrogs coming to Tol Eressea? Is that in any prophecy? It is said that the Great Enemy will fight again on the fields of Aman at the End."

Celeborn faltered. "Perhaps." An expression of awe crossed his face. "Perhaps it is indeed come. But how would you send word to Feanor locked in the Halls of Mandos? And why would he honor your request? He did not respect the Valar; and I think the Vanyar seemed like pets of the Valar to him. I do not think he would obey you."

"I need not request. I can force him here. I have power over unbodied spirits, whether they be in Mandos or not."

"But that would be - " Celeborn showed mixed amazement and horror.

"Necromancy, I know. It is said in ancient texts that necromancy is the art of Sauron. But think, O little lord in your diminished realm! You know my lineage; you have seen my skill. I am not of the race of Eldar alone, but the mighty Valar as well. It is the necromancer's art to call upon those spirits that did not go to Mandos, but lingered in Middle-earth. Not as Elvish necromancer, but as Vala, will I call upon Feanor. It is given to the Valar to guide and direct the Elves in Arda. Thus this is permitted to me, in this time of need."

Celeborn's expression cleared. "Perhaps. But I must ask, if you plan to make this experiment, that you do so in a barren place far from here. If something goes wrong – some spirit from the Enemy comes instead - Tol Eressea might well be at risk."

Elamanelessa looked at him with an arch expression. "Do you think I would fail? I will demonstrate."

She concentrated; a blue light wreathed her head, shoulders, and curled hands. The earth began to shake. A bolt of lightning descended from the sky, striking the ground in a flash and a glowing mist. When the mist cleared, an old man, his face graven with sorrow and guilt, stood there. He bowed before Elamanelessa and said gravely, "Curunir at your service, my lady Valachil. May it expiate my previous deeds."

Celeborn stood gaping. "You should not have done such a thing in my realm! This Istar was a traitor - how can you trust him?"

Elamanelessa smiled and sang a note of music, piercing with its power. "He is now bound to me forever - or until I release him."

"Still, I must insist that you raise the spirit of Feanor far from here. Perhaps Avathar would be far enough away. I will send my greatest warrior and sorcerer with you. I see that you need no protection; still, someone to watch your back might be useful in dark Avathar."

He waved his hand. A tall being, seemingly of none of Arda's races, appeared. He was tall as a noble Elf, broad as a Dwarf, with the facial features of a Man. He spoke in a rough voice: "I will guide you to Avathar. Are you Elamanelessa?"

"Here in twilit Elvenhome, I am Elamanelessa, the Valachil. In Middle-earth I have names beyond counting. Estelle is one of my names in this Age. In those lands I was Athena in the Fifth Age of the World, and heroes beseeched my aid. Longer ago even than that I was Luthigond, Stone of Enchantment, in Gondor, and Eriadorelen, Star of Wilderland, before Smaug the Dragon burned Dale. But my true name, given to me when I was born in Beleriand that now is gone, is Lindoniundomiloth -the Twilight Flower of Lindon. If you wish to hear, I will tell you something of myself and my family. My ancestry and my tale is long and woeful."