Chapter Four

Yarna stared at the water as it rose above her, higher than anything she had ever seen before. It seemed to her to reach right up into the sky, water crashing down from the heavens like rain in a thunderous roar that never stopped. She pushed her hood back, turning around as much as she could to look at every corner of the valley.

"Stay still," Galdor murmured, pushing her back into place in front of him. The valley felt warmer, like the fire Círdan always had burning in the Ship House, welcoming. She swivelled around to see he was smiling as well and she knew that her awe wasn't lost on him. Even the trees looked brighter, stronger in the soft light that glinted off the water.

"The waterfall of Imladris appears to capture the imagination of every elf, one would think they never saw a ravine before." Waterfall, she thought, it was more beautiful than any wave or cliff. Curunír chuckled as his horse passed by, leading the way down to the tiny house that seemed more like a painting on the side the waterfall than anything real. Red and brown it was, beams of wood like a ship created the walls and balconies. It was like no house in Mithlond, nowhere was there grey or stone walls.

"Uncle lives in a hole full of stars," she told Galdor, her voice quiet so as not to anger the mighty waterfall. She was half afraid of it.

"You are going to fall unless you sit still and face the right way," answered Galdor. She did as she was told, craning her neck around to look at the towering cliffs above. The cliffs of home were bare, nests of seabirds filled every cavity and the hardiest of lichen clung to the rocks. In the valley, every surface was green or purple with heather and moss, a thousand flowers she could not name spurted from behind each stone. She tried to swallow it all up with her eyes, looking so far in each direction it made her vision go dark.

The bridge led straight into the courtyard, passing beneath the watchful eyes of two marble sentries. She was too busy scanning each statue and arch to see the people gathered to meet them at first.

"Yarna!" Galdor dismounted, lifting her down to the ground beside him. Yarna had barely more than an instant to name the figure flying towards her before her friend lifted her up high, swinging her around.

"Lindir!" She planted kisses all over his face, nestling her tiny head in his hair and grinning.

"You have barely grown. You should think about doing a little more before too long." He placed her down, towering over her as she only just reached his waist. She made a tiny displeased noise and stomped away from him. Her uncles were waiting, one dark blue one gold. Her smile faded as she reached them, Glorfindel picking her up. He was sad, she could see that and instead of laughing she simply threw her arms around his neck.

"Suilaid, tithen pen." She lifted her head and watched as Galdor came up to them. "Hannon le," her

uncle thanked him. "For bringing her safely here." Erestor clasped his hand gently before turning to Yarna.

"Let us get this one bathed and changed." She squirmed in protest but was set down and taken firmly by the hand, Glorfindel leading her down the long corridors. Everywhere shone, the floor was covered in smooth stone and the walls appeared to have a hundred of Galdor's paintings on them.

Erestor disappeared at some point, she hardly noticed in between trying to look and touch everything around her. It was no better in her uncles' rooms where scrolls and the assorted objects that found their way into rooms collected on a desk and low table just within her reach. She poked what appeared to be a model ship and promptly got herself buried under a pile of scrolls.

"Yarna." Glorfindel scooped her up. "Erestor will not be pleased if you ruin every one of his book towers." She was bundled straight into a bath, the blond elf dousing her in warm water and ignoring her protests. Once deemed clean she was removed from the tub just as she had found that her uncle's braids tipped forward when he moved, perfect for pulling into the water. Glorfindel sat her down, wrapped in a towel with a disapproving glare.

"You are less sad now," she pointed out.

"Glorfindel?" A dark head appeared round the door. "I thought you would require these." She was pretty, the tall lady and smiled down at Yarna. "They should fit her." A lilac dress and slippers were handed over.

"My thanks, Nairn."

"Hannon le," Yarna added as she patted her skirt down. Her own clothes were still in the bag Galdor had packed, but the dress Nairn has given her was far prettier than the leggings and tunics Galdor thought to bring.

"The council will begin within the hour, Curunír asked that we start immediately." Yarna had managed to find another model ship to play with as she sat on the floor.

"We have waited long enough. Come, Yarna. Lindir ought to not to lose you too many time in the next few hours." She was lifted up, boat still in hand and had a new vantage point from which to look at the sculpted torches and ceiling.

"Does the waterfall sleep?" she asked them, making Nairn laugh.

"No, it always falls." It seemed too loud to sleep with, even the sea was never that loud.

"Will you watch her for a while, Lindir, please?" Lindir looked up from where he and another three elves had been picking at their instruments lazily.

"Come here then." She was sat between the four minstrels. "Can you remember the songs I taught you?" Before her parents left Lindir had come to Mithlond with her uncles, long before anyone had to shut the city gates and set beacons on the cliffs. He had shown her how to play little tunes on a tiny flute and sung for them at home.

"We have a new little songbird," one of the other minstrels declared. "With luck she will grow some more and there will be some power behind that sweet voice." They patted her head and she was silent, listening to them play. They broke off every now and then, marking notes on paper and talking about chords and harmonies of which she knew nothing.

"I think not," Curunír's voice came before him as four figures approached the little group. "It was merely a suggestion."

"Then it-"

"Calm yourself, Fin." Yarna watched her uncles glare at each other before Glorfindel stalked back the way they had come, leaving Curunír and another elf to turn to Erestor. "Leave him be. Yarna, come. Elrond, my niece." Yarna curtseyed to the elf, deciding that he looked as much as lord as her uncles did and so merited the title. She had known of him, Gil-Galad's standard bearer and her own distant cousin.

"Well met, Yarna and welcome to Imladris." His face was softer than most she had seen, his cheekbones and nose not quite so fine. She made up her mind to like this half elf lord, with his kindly face and smile. "I see you have already fallen into troublesome company."

"We are no trouble, my lord!" one of Lindir's friends protested. "Not overmuch at least."

"We shall be the judges of that. Come now, the hall is set for supper."