Places and situations are Tolkien's, as are the various kinds of elves spoken of here, and the characters Feonor, Melkor Morgoth, and Erestor.

Melarbeth jumped down and ran past Celuant. Celuant noted the other elf's mouth was stretched in a grimace and his eyes were wider than usual. Sadness dragged at his voice as he spoke softly while passing him, "Aunt Sarnin and my sister will be heartbroken again!"

Celuant turned and followed the elf with his gaze. His brows furrowed and lips pursed together. A sudden cry broke through the trees again before fading away. Celuant began to move after Melarbeth and in the sound's direction.

Soon after, another, softer cry followed the last before it too faded away. Celuant then heard nothing unusual for some time except the silence. The singing woods had ceased to be thus.

Along with the elves, the birds had gone silent as had some of the insects. The waters continued to babble all about him, but the forest seemed still compared to what he was used to hearing in it. He could only continue heading in the general direction he'd seen Melarbeth go.

Then, he was close enough to hear the sobs. He turned slightly and continued guided by the new sound. Then he heard Lathwinn's voice also. She was speaking with bright firmness. One word had barely ceased before she began another.

Then Celuant heard Sarnin. Her voice was soft whispering love that came from the center of her being. All the time, both voices mixed together with the sobbing. No other Green Elves in the vicinity, though he could feel and sometimes spy them in the trees, spoke or sang over these three. Finally, Celuant came to a place, he could see as well as hear the scene before him.

Beyond the saplings he stood in, a tree had grown so tall and broad no others had been able to grow in its shade. Under its branches, low-growing ferns and grasses grew instead. Lathwinn and Sarnin knelt among these plants in the shade. Between them lay an elf … if you could call it that.

Celuant's mouth twisted at the sight. Was I "that" uncomely the first time they saw me? He feared he had been. He realized after staring a moment, this elf was not as long as he himself would be lying down. So that was a difference between them. What he first noticed though, was the bones.

Celuant could count them and see their sharp shapes through the pale, greying skin of the elf. Dark hair covered the head pillowed in Lathwinn's lap hiding the face. Celuant guessed Lathwinn had gotten to this elf first. Sarnin was kneeling at the stranger's feet, brushing a finger over their heels as she whispered over her new patient.

Celuant studied the elf again from the feet up to the head, more slowly. Whip-marks turned to scars appeared all throughout the skin from the heels Sarnin brushed to the back of the neck exposed by the hair being swept to the side by Lathwinn. Even the backs of the elf's arms had such marks.

Celuant shook his head. Either this one had been stubborn in Melkor's eyes or good sport in the orcs'. At the very least, he must have been too stubborn to fall under Melkor's spell, and thus, relegated to work instead of loosed to unwittingly carry out enemy plots. Celuant shook his head again and froze.

The skin was a darker grey than it had been a moment before. The sobs had grown softer. The sound was less. The back and shoulders of the elf shuddered less violently.

Celuant glanced up at the healers. He saw them exchange a despairing stare with each one. Melarbeth's words and frightened, grieving look appeared in Celuant's mind. "Lathwinn and Aunt Sarnin will be heartbroken again!"

Celuant uncrossed his arms, shook his head, and strode out into the shade of the great tree. Elves gathered in branches all around him or standing off amid nearby saplings, as he had been, looked away from the healers and their patient to watch him. Their drooping mouths opened, and wet eyes widened. Lathwinn and Sarnin looked up at him with the same. Then their mouths pursed, and eyes narrowed as they saw the hardness in Celuant's stare.

He came within one stride of the sobbing elf's side before he stopped. His shadow fell over the elf. He looked down for a quiet moment and then snapped, "Rise soldier!"

The weeping ellon leapt to his feet. Then he blinked at him. After a moment, his eyes just stared even wider and his mouth hung even more open than those of the other elves around them.

Celuant could see the stranger's face clearly for the first time. He studied it. The eyes were grey, and hair dark, but not black. The face might have been oval once but was now triangular in its thinness. Two, long, jagged scars stretched down either cheek. His ears were intact.

Celuant snapped again. "What is your name?"

"Mírënólë sir …"

Celuant jerked his head in a nod, but replied, "Your name is now 'Mîrgolodh.'"

The Noldo blinked at him again. "My name is now ..?"

Celuant scowled at him. "Do you 'wish' to bear a name and speak a language given to you by those who betrayed you?"

The ellon flinched. His arms flew up before his face. Some of the scars they bore now fit together across the backs of both. Celuant could still see the other elf shake his head behind them, though, and hear his reply. "Nnnnno, sir."

"Good. Your name, if you want to keep its meaning, is now 'Mîrgolodh' then. Though these people may call you something else in time. You should accept that if they do."

The ellon lowered his arms and raised his eyes to him. The grey orbs seemed to take up his whole face. "They … they will allow me to stay with them … alive?"

Lathwinn got to her feet behind Mîrgolodh and laid a hand upon his shoulder. "Is that not what we have been saying this whole time to you?"

Mîrgolodh lowered his arms to his sides and looked down to his feet. His voice went low and soft. "I did not believe you …"

Celuant's voice thundered forth. "Believe it!"

The ellon jerked to a soldier's stance. He fixed wide eyes upon Celuant's face again. Celuant glared back at him and continued. "What post did you serve?"

The ellon breathed out his reply softly. "I was a standard bearer, and … and a jeweler."

Celant nodded his mouth hardening into a grim line. "You trained with Feonor?"

The ellon bowed his head and lowered his gaze while he nodded. Celuant gave a swift nod back. "So did I."

The ellon's gaze jerked up again. For once, the grey in his skin ceded back as a glow replaced it. "You … you are 'noldo' … like me?"

Celuant shook his head but did so gently this time around. "Not anymore. I am now a green elf, as are you. Here, among these people, is where you'll be safe until Morgoth has smashed through all the fools in the north."

The ellon blinked at him face going grey again in fear, but after a moment the glow returned like a sunrise. Celuant kept silent a moment as he watched this before continuing. "You were held in Angband?"

The ellon's skin went grey again as he bowed his head and nodded. His whole form was tight. Yet, even as the elleth behind their patient gestured wildly at him, Celuant pressed on. "For how long?"

Mîrgolodh's skin-covered, bone shoulders lifted and fell again. "I know not … Our fort had been completed, and city nearly so, when I went searching for gems to replace those we'd left behind. They were meant to decorate our new buildings and ourselves with, so we would look like conquerors and not mourners in this new land. But where I thought I might find such gems, so did our enemy, and I stayed too long when the shadows grew long and deep around me. I was a fool."

Celuant studied the stranger, and then reached out and traced one of the scars on his cheeks. "And what did you do to earn these?"

The ellon flinched and turned to stone beneath the touch but replied. "I had found, cut, and polished a splendid gem under his orders, but it was too good for him, so I smashed it. He was not pleased."

Celuant nodded and drew his hand away. "And he sent you to work in the mines instead of at the workbenches after that?"

The ellon nodded looking down again.

Celuant smiled. "Best thing that could have happened to you, since that is where we both escaped from: an obscure offshoot of a hastily dug and ill-guarded mine tunnel, yes?"

Mîrgolodh's gaze jerked back up to look into Celuant's face. His eyes and face glowed. He smiled as he nodded this time.

Celuant's own face went hard and dark as he continued. "And you went back to the city you'd been meant to decorate and found yourself unwelcome there after all this?"

Now, the elleth behind their patient froze and stared with a wide-open-mouth, but very narrow-eyes over Mîrgolodh's shoulders at Celuant. The color and warmth fled from Mirgolodh face along with his smile, but he kept his gaze fixed on Celuant's face as he softly answered, "Yes."

Celuant continued in a strong, but gentler voice. "You are welcome here."

The ellon's eyes bored into Celuant's as his face pinched in a tight expression. Celuant felt the other ellon probing his spirit for the truth. Then Mîrgolodh asked, "Even though I …"

"Did you did look into Melkor's eyes when you were brought before his throne?"

Mîrgolodh shook his head. "No … No … I … I looked up into the Silmarils on his brow instead. It helped ..."

Celuant nodded. His voice lowered and gentled even more. "That is what I did. You are safe now."

The ellon's head fell forward. He collapsed, but his face still shone with light. He fell forward so the top of his head collided with Celuant's chest. Celuant's arms came up automatically to catch him and he slowly lowered himself and Mîrgolodh's form to the ground. The elleth hovered as he held the passed out ellon, but they smiled at Celuant now over their patient.

. . .

When the shadows of evening fell, Mîrgolodh awoke. He began to sob once more. This time, though, the sound held hope instead of despair. It still squeezed the gut and ripped at one's heart, but after stiffening again, Celuant clutched the other ellon closer to his chest.

The elleth laid glowing hands on the shuddering, exposed, scarred shoulders of their patient to hopefully give him strength as well as comfort, but they did not speak. Celuant did that.

His now warm voice rustled over the sobbing head again and again. "Shhhhh … It's alright … It's alright … You are safe now. You are welcome in this place. Shhhhh … Shhhhh ..."

. . .

Around midnight, Lathwinn again sat with her legs crossed and her lap full of elven head. This time, though, Mîrgolodh face was turned to the sky. Starlight shone over its lax features when a breeze blew the tree leaves briefly aside to let it reach him.

The elleths' patient was breathing deeply and fully after they rubbed honey over his gums and had him chase it down with spring water. He'd ceased weeping entirely some time ago, and had looked ready for sleep, but they'd made him do those two things first. They both now expected him to sleep days before waking again, but they did expect him to wake.

Lastannan had crept forward and insisted to his two elleth relatives their patient have a bath when he next awoke. Some weavers, who'd watch the scene unfold, had already left after saying they would make this new member of their people clothes while he rested.

The ellon truly had no idea how generous the people he's come among are ... Celuant thought this to himself as he himself watched from a few strides away.

Lathwinn looked away from her patient's face and up to Celuant's. Then she glanced at her aunt. Sarnin looked up and met her stare. Sarnin nodded.

Lathwinn's aunt rose and took her place. The younger elleth shifted their patient's head to Sarnin's lap and then rose and walked to Celuant. She paused before him and grinned, resting her hands on her hips before saying, "Come with me."

She walked past him. Celuant raised an eyebrow as he turned to watch her walk by. Then he followed her.

They walked until the sun rose to cast a few rays over the tops of most of the trees of their forest. Then the early, golden rays lit a hilly, rocky area beyond the forest's edge. Celuent's gaze took in the place. He studied it. His brows furrowed. He did not believe he'd been here before.

Lathwinn stopped at his side. She whispered low. "We buried them here, because we heard they were stone-lovers more than tree-lovers."

Celuant surveyed the area more carefully. Some stones had obviously been raised unnaturally to stand on their narrow ends. Unusual for Green elves to put forth such efforts to make things look "unnatural." Yet, Celuant thought he could feel sorrow seeping up through the soil here and echoing from the stones into him. This was a place of mourning. "You buried 'who' here?"

Lathwinn looked up at him with a drooping mouth and slightly raised eyebrows. "Your people who came to us after escaping Angband and being turned away from their own. You did not really think 'you' were the first and Mîrgolodh only the second did you?"

Celuant turned a bit grey and drew away slightly from the sight before him. Lathwinn went on in a soft voice. "We did not even know their names. They refused to give them to us, just begged us to kill them rather than send them away, and we begged them to believe us that they could stay, but they did not seem to. The moment they calmed, perhaps believing they wouldn't be sent away just yet, they began to fade away … Sometimes, we got them here first hoping the stone they were supposed to love so much might help them, but for naught …"

Lathwinn looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, but her face broke out into a great grin. "You were the first, the first to survive, and now we have a second. Thank you, thank you. You are an 'oncoi,' life-giver."

Sarnhael looked away from her and glanced off into the stony hillside again, more confused than he had almost ever been before.

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes