I would like to thank my readers yet again for their remarkable patience with my sporadic postings. I cannot express my gratitude to you all enough…This chapter is a short one but I will make a genuine effort to get something more satisfying ready very soon I am introducing a new character in this section regarding Crispin and his history and I hope to try to keep as many of the canon characters as true to their natures as my poor skill will allow.

We can all blame my lovely whatcatydidnext for the inspiration!

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Ve continued "So… you do understand, my dear, that this Eikenskjaldi wants to court you in a serious manner – his courting gift is - well - a masterpiece of craft. When you next see this tinker - tell him to make himself known to Ve Ullrson, of the Firebeards now of the White Mountains… You're my foster and I know that your father – for all his misjudgments – would insist on this. He'd demand this lad court you with all proper respect."

"Your father was my brother. I'm your Uncle and you my wee maid - are Khazadi."

"I am not one of the Noble People... am I?"

"Well … Aacademically - you are half Khazadi - I suppose…" Ve replied gently.

Morwen felt stunned - as if all the wind had been knocked out of her… She wasn't ashamed of being one of the Noble people - it was just something that she had not even really thought about at least not since she was tiny and her father was alive. Then she really didn't differentiate between herself and all her "Uncles and Aunts" Ve, Nyr, Liffa, Fryg, Angrath…

"Are you unhappy to learn the truth?"

"No of course not - I just never imagined it – but it makes some sense - I suppose…Ve - why did my father call me 'ugly'?"

"Wee maid – he called you mosgrimm – because… well… you have no beard… Although I have heard that there are creams that can encourage growth…" Ve smiled at her. Poor thing - she was too short and squat for the children of men, and too raw faced for many of her own people to find attractive.

"But it means "without worth" – I know that."

"Shh – your father was wrong – I can say that because he was my brother. And as your foster and an elder - you have to respect me in that judgment!"

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The elven representative bearing greetings from King Thranduil of the Greenwoods arrived in Imladris, and although he was related to the elves of Lothlorien, he had been a courtier at the Sindarin kings hall for some years. Elrond welcomed him and invited him to stay as long as he wished, encouraging the youth to act a companion to his young daughter Arwen Udommiel.

Elrond would soon be fostering some refugees from amongst the Dunadan Rangers from the West and he worried for his youngest child. He feared that the troubling visions that drifted, like half remembered dreams, in his consciousness might affect her mind too. Rather than darken both their hearts, he wanted to keep her happily entertained. Finglamir knew well how to be charming and found spending time with the dark ethereal beauty was a delight. They would sometimes be seen walking about the Vale or riding together, shimmering in a glittering haze between the tall trees. Elrond could see some of the eldritch beauty of his departed bride in Finglamir, they both possessed unusual curly golden hair and large luminous blue grey eyes, but his face was narrow and triangular with a slender, angular nose, large piecing pale eyes and a generous mouth with thin lips. He was tall and delicate in physique but remarkably strong and flexible. He sometimes tried to entertain Arwen this tales of grandmother Galadriel, or of the beauty of Celebrian, her mother, whom she sadly did not remember clearly. Celebrian had departed to the West when her wounds from a vicious attack by Orcs had not healed and her torture at their hands had filled her with despair and drained her will. The mothers suffering had filled her sons with a fury for revenge and her father with a compulsive need to protect his daughter from any threat. On occasion she would ask him about the race of men.

"My father worries that men are weak – he discourages me from meeting any men - even the Edain."

"Your father has witnessed men at their best and worst, and he wishes to keep you from any unnecessary suffering, gracious lady" he answered. Finglamir's voice was slightly high in register like a distant flute. He gazed at her with the slightest smile playing in his eyes .

"But you know of men – are they truly so untrustworthy?" She replied and a tiny shadow fell across his face. "I can see this in you – you hold a secret - you are looking for someone..."

"I have met with men both at Thranduil's court and in my travels … They are kind or cruel according to their nature - but they are intransient and they can seem to fade away even as we look at them. This may be what Lord Elrond would keep you from discovering…"

Arwen looked at him searchingly and Finglamir was suddenly reminded of his companion's illustrious ancestors; Melian the Maia and Luthien Tinuviel, Thingol's daughter. He saw the piercing glance of Galadriel reflected in her granddaughters face, and for one of the very few times in his eldritch life - felt deep fear.

.

She spoke very quietly "My brothers will be taking a hunting party outside the valley in a few days … you ought to go with them - act while you still have time…"

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Two days later he was traveling with Eladan and Elrohir, working their way outside the Valley and all the time he could not help but think as he tugged at his heavy riding gloves, his eyes suddenly sparkling, of those unbidden memories of the dark haired mortal and their secret forests trysts at the edges of Thranduil's realm - he had secretly dreamed of the many opportunities to surely 'accidentally' meet someone - all unexpected - in an empty corner of a remote hamlet or on a quiet woodland pathway? A breeze blew past with the taste of snow still lingering in the air. A storm was coming. A storm that might change everything.