Barad-en-Elei (Fortress of Dreams)

~ Part Four: Ossë ~

Elladan turned to discover Ossë reclining on the beach, a radiant light about him to display his naked form to best effect. He was not alone and made no effort to hide the fact that he was engaged in intimate converse with the figure straddling his hips. She could only be Uinan, his wife, and spared Elladan a brief smile as she rode her mate with obvious pleasure. At the moment of mutual culmination, she shimmered in a brilliant eruption of golden sparks and vanished, leaving her husband where he lay. Elladan could only stare, unable to process what had happened much less what the proper reaction might be. Congratulations? Indignant objections? Ribald laughter? It was utterly bizarre and he remained rooted to the spot as Ossë rose and approached him, somehow manifesting clothing as he did.

"Forgive me, that was rather rude, but Uinan so enjoys giving the locals a shock now and then. They've become acclimated to her ways, though, and so she pouts. When I saw you wandering alone, I could not resist the urge to grant her that small delight you witnessed," said the Maia, examining Elladan keenly as he had before, as if sizing him up for some unstated purpose.

It made Elladan uncomfortable and he stepped back. "Oh." He strained for something to say that was not objectionable. "Well, if my surprise enhanced the Lady's enjoyment then I am not unhappy for it," he stammered, glad for the darkness that lessened the impact of his embarrassed flush. He was also disappointed. Surely the voice must have been Uinan's and the ballad a song of love for her mate.



"What brought you here so far from the comforts of Nowë's palace?" Ossë asked, his tone friendly and companionable.

"The need for solitude," Elladan shrugged, unwilling to voice more of the truth than that, though he felt a strong urge to do so. At once his eyes narrowed; this was similar to the tingling sensation he felt when his grandmother attempted to delve his thoughts. The blood of Melian ran in his veins, however, and Elladan would not submit to such intrusions. "Daro," he said quietly.

"Ah! I wondered; I wondered," chuckled Ossë, delighted. "We had a wager on it, Uinan and I, and I've won it. You have more Maia in you than others in your line. But forgive me, I had to try," he bowed contritely and when he straightened circled Elladan's shoulders with his arm. He set off along the shore, drawing the elf with him. "Solitude. I confess I cannot understand the meaning of that term. I am always aware, always connected, to Uinan, to Hîr Ulmo and the rest of the Valar, and to the life of the sea. In all the time I have lived among the First-born, I have never been able to understand those few who seek to be alone. There is much greater comfort and happiness in sharing one's experiences."

"Even those who have the happiness instilled by bonds of friendship and love seek time set apart, time to meditate and ponder problems, time to consider the course of one's life and fate," answered Elladan, unwilling to permit this superior creature to pity him.

"Ah, yes, fate. That is most important for elves to ponder, so much of what they do influences the flow of the Music." There was mockery in his words but also a hint of wistfulness that made Elladan hold his tongue, as he knew it would, and he went on. "I know of the fate you have chosen and rejoice in it. Yet is it not also true that too much solitude is detrimental for elf-kind? I have seen that this is so; many fading souls come here, grieving to the point of death for loved ones lost. They hasten over sea, yes?"

"Since you have seen it, you have no need for me to confirm it." Elladan stooped to slip from the confining pressure of the Maia's arm and stepped ahead rapidly with the firm intent to leave the strange being behind. How this abominable person knew of his choice, unless Enerdhil had revealed it, he did not know but felt his privacy invaded to an unacceptable degree.

"Have I offended?" Ossë blinked his star-bright eyes in innocent bewilderment, expending no effort to keep up with his reluctant companion. "That was not my intent. I ask out of worry and concern only."

That made Elladan stop and he faced the mighty sea-spirit. "Why do you speak such words? I am nothing to such as you; my need for solitude is of no consequence to any design you may have," he challenged.

"You are wrong," Ossë grinned and tapped Elladan's breastbone with a long, bony finger. "And it is not you for which I feel this concern. I have a dear friend, someone I have come to care for over the long years he has resided here. I fear for him; he spends all of his days alone and has no friend or companion of his own kind to share his woes. Or his joys."

"Ah, how compassionate," Elladan almost sneered, not believing for an instant this calculating, cold creature was capable of such empathy. "A trait for which you are well known. Many are the souls of men and elves you have sent to death and to Námo's halls. I am not so sure it is a good thing to meet you here, but am absolutely relieved the encounter is taking place on solid ground."

"Do not presume to wisdom you cannot possibly possess, child," Ossë let his voice fill with the anger of the sea and raised his arm high, a flick of his wrist seeming to call up the wind, which blew steady and strong but without the noisy gusts that muffled all other sound. "Do you believe my strength is greater than Ulmo's? Yet I do not hear you castigating him for those same deaths, any of which he might have prevented."

"Of course, you were only obeying the commands of your Lord and Master," scoffed Elladan, utterly disgusted.

"As does Ulmo, as does Manwë Sulimo. You dare to judge the Powers?" the Maia laughed at such cheek but the charge stung, having heard it so often from others of this particular lineage, human and elf-kind. "We shall soon see how well you fare when fate casts your lot counter to that which you might choose. Let all those who love you intervene, yet you will not escape it. But know that they will not intervene; nay, the people you love most have sent you to it, this dreadful fate, and you will be willingly sacrificed to bring it about. Let what is asked of you be repugnant to you, though I think it is not, yet you will fail to turn away from it. When the year is ended and all this has come to pass, then you and I will talk about obeying and dissenting."

"You would threaten me? You are not the master of any fate, especially mine." Yet Elladan's heart quailed at these dire prophesies and he backed away in haste, wishing he had a weapon with him, cursing himself for bringing none.

"I do not threaten so much as inform, but you are too blind to see." Ossë smiled, following close. This one was beyond perfect, both his personality and his appearance an amazingly close match, and he thanked Manwë for sending Elladan. "Even when the moment comes and you clearly recognise it as the pivotal moment when that fate engulfs you, even then you will do only that which is already determined you should do."

"Why are you telling me all this?" demanded Elladan, voice shrill and mind reeling. He was not prepared to trade truths with a demi-god and wanted it to stop.

"I tell you this because that is what I promised I would do," snarled Ossë. "Know that you are well loved and little do you appreciate it. You have been give what few, even among my kind, have received: foreknowledge and full warning. Go! Ride back to Annúminas tonight. Turn away if you can!"

In silence they glared at one another, Elladan both frightened and intrigued, for Ossë was clearly acting upon some strange compunction against his general nature, which was secretive and cunning. Yet for all he had said, that which was most crucial had been left out.

"What is this dread doom poised to lay me low?" he asked, barely finding breath enough, courage enough to form the words.

Now Ossë smiled, a cruel and beguiling smile. "Already you step into the snare. You will join forces with me and aid me in realising my fate," he said, laughing as the young elf lord recoiled.

"I will not!" protested Elladan, hands held forth before him to fend off this evil.

"We shall see," smirked Ossë. "My promise is fulfilled; all that I hope to achieve I have laid out plainly before you. You will do as fate demands and nothing less."

"You have explained nothing!" shrieked Elladan, terrified that somehow he had already sealed the pact without realising it. "This is some trickery and I do not consent to this!"

"Consent? What does that mean? Why do the First-born always protest against the very cause for their creation and existence as if they could be both parent and child at once? Never mind, I would do better to discuss the colour of the sky with the fishes in the deep." the Maia shrugged. "Yet if you would have still more truth, gladly will I give it. I am set the task of keeping this one soul well, this one I referred to at the beginning of our little chat. Realising 'well' to be a relative term, I am charged to maintain him as whole and stable as possible under the circumstances. I but thought to seek your guidance and your help, since he is elf-kind, though no need have I to extend such courtesy to you, Elladan of Imladris, for with a thought I can command of you what I require."

"You may have the power to do that but never the right!" Elladan exclaimed hotly, a sudden explosion of panic searing his thoughts and setting his heart to hammering.

He turned and bolted up the beach, kicking up clumps of the sticky sand as he fled, too fearful to look behind and learn if he was pursued. At length, no sign of his antagonist evident, his alarm receded and his blood cooled. He slowed to regain his composure and walked on slowly, gathering the cloak close as he shuddered, for the wind had not abated and his skin and clothes were wet with sweat. He had not gone more than a few metres when he heard the song again, strong and clear, carried on the steady north-west current of the night air. Eagerly he let the sound fill his thoughts, glad for this diversion to drive away the unsettling recollection of his encounter with the Maia.

His guess earlier had been wrong; this was not the fair voice of Uinan, wife to Ossë. There was no question that the singer was male, his voice more beautiful and melodious than any Elladan had ever heard. The tune he sang was accompanied by the strains of a lyre, plucked with skill and sensitivity, and the song filled the air, became the air. Elladan breathed and it was inside him, exhaling his thoughts, his emotions, and the song absorbed them, incorporated them. The singer sang of him now.

A sharp gasp left his lungs and of their own volition his legs carried him forward, his desire to find and confront this person realised by his body before his conscious mind could form the idea. The song was both ballad and lament, a despairing and dolorous requiem for love lost, for love spurned, yet also a potent and unapologetic lure, an enticing and beguiling call for this lover to return and submit to the embracing joy of their reunion. It was filled with hope; it was replete with despair and Elladan didn't know if he could bear to hear it, was absolutely certain he could not bear to have it end. He broke into a run and pounded up the strand, frantic to reach the singer before the song completed and the spell dissolved.

At last he spied an indistinct and shadowed figure perched on a spill of rocks tossed upon the shore from the craggy cliffs marching down from the mountains. That surprised him for he had not thought he'd come so far from Mithlond, yet surely he was once more at land's end, this time poised on the jutting point of the shallow cove that sheltered a small harbour in the Avarin lands north of Forlond. From here could be seen Himling when Anor reigned, but Ithil kept all in obscurity save the tumbling waves and a thin strip of sandy beach. On foot this was a two day hike. Yet his confusion was set aside for his curiosity would not be diverted and he carefully approached the musician, who sat entranced by his own artistry.

The dark abetted Elladan's desire to remain undetected, for he wished to see, hear, and feel this person freely, without the immediate and instinctive reserve one used when meeting another for the first time. He came closer, halting a metre distant, hidden in the shadow of a granite boulder, fearing to draw too close, and just made out a lean and slender form bent in a loving, possessive curl about the lyre, head inclined so his ear was close to the instrument and his dark hair whipped about in the wind. Its motion kept his features hidden, though every now and then Elladan had an impression of pale, patrician planes, a straight nose and a high brow. He must have made some sound then, for the music abruptly stopped and the ellon jumped up, rigid and ready for flight.

"Nay, please wait!" implored Elladan, holding out a hand in supplication as he came into full view. "I meant no harm. I only wished to listen. Please, continue." He could sense the elf's hesitation and took a measured step closer, and then another. He could see the face more clearly now and was struck by a distinct sense of recognition, though he could not resolve why this person seemed so familiar. He smiled and took another step and then the singer gasped and startled, his entire body jerking with the shock, the lyre falling with a dull thud to the sand.

"You, here?" the fair voice cried and the elf moved toward Elladan, halting in uncertainty, hand half lifting. "Elrond?"

Elladan's brows rose to his hair; he had never been mistaken for his Adar before, but perhaps it was not really so surprising, here in the dark, for someone to make such an error. He shook his head. "Nay, I am…"

"Elros!" the word was whispered out in a gush of warmth and wonder and joy, the elf closing the remaining distance in seconds, his hands coming up eagerly to frame the face before him, to which he bent his head and tenderly settled mouth to lips in a passionate kiss.

Elladan, stunned at first, came out of his amazement with an immediate and instinctive reaction, gripping the hands and tearing them from him, shoving hard to get this stranger off him. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, putting distance between them, touching his lips where the sensational connection lingered, filling him with unexpected and unwanted desire. While he dealt with that, the response to his violent rejection was poignant and stung his heart. The elf's very soul seemed to crumple up right before his eyes.

"Forgive me, forgive me!" he cried softly, cringing as he turned away, head dropping low. "I know you no longer want that from me, but I could not help it, so great was my happiness to see you again. I hoped your heart would be renewed, even as you have been."

He stooped to retrieve the lyre and then raced away up the strand, soon vanishing in the gloom so that Elladan had to hurry if he wished to solve this riddle. Yet he could not catch up, finding the elf had a boat and was already pushing it out into the waves, leaping into it, grasping oars and pulling for the open sea as though beset by Sauron himself.

"Wait!" Elladan called in vain as he waded into the surf, for now a sail unfurled and the boat leaped into motion, skipping over the shoaling waves of the sheltered cove. It vanished in the darkness and he retreated to the sand. Long he stood and gazed out into the emptiness, listening intently for any sign of the stranger's voice, but only the persistent, relentless surge of the tide resounded in the night. The dawn neared and the sky lightened and suddenly Elladan knew he was not alone. He spun to find Ossë seated on the very rock the singer had used. His presence was entirely too much of a coincidence; their cryptic conversation too neat a fit.

"What do you know of this?" demanded Elladan. "Who is that elf?"

"The friend I mentioned. You agree, he is beyond loneliness. Heartbreak and pining consume him," said the Maia.

"Yes, and madness. He thought first that I was Elrond and then mistook me for Elros. He… he kissed me." Again he felt his lips. Was he imagining the warmth of that tender, passionate embrace still lingered?

"Nae, do you think it is madness? I admit that is what others have told me, but I hoped to find means to aid him. I do not like to see him this way. He has become despondent before but always rallied, recalled to his music, to his gift of interpreting the Song."

"Why does he not sail? Surely you could ensure his safe journey to Aman."

"He cannot. Or will not," Ossë shrugged. "He is bound to stay."

"Why? If he is truly alone and abandoned, what can hold him here to this bleak and empty shore?"

"I am not certain it is right for me to tell you all his secrets," Ossë said evasively and rose, sauntering away toward Forlond. "You do not seem the sympathetic type after all. You are not as I was led to believe, Elladan of Imladris."

"I know not what you mean," Elladan hastened to join him, determined to have answers. "I am compassionate enough but I am not in the habit of letting total strangers kiss me, especially with such…" he broke off, displeased to be speaking so freely with Ossë, whom he did not trust.

"He didn't know he was kissing a stranger, Elladan, that must be obvious even to you. Have you not already said it? He thought you were Elros, who in days long past was his beloved, dearer to him than anything else in creation, save only one." Ossë replied patiently. He settled his weighty arm across the elf's shoulders again, smiling. "You do favour him."

"That cannot be. I am identical to my brother."

"Then both of you resemble the twins who came before you, is that so difficult to encompass? Elrond and Elros grew up along these very shores and their history is well known; therefore, much gossip attends your arrival here now. Surely you have noticed the stares and the whispers."

Elladan had noticed, though his interpretation of the rude behaviour had been misguided by his turmoil over the breach with Elrohir. What he knew of Elros was limited, confined to what the histories revealed or what Erestor would explain, for his father would not speak of his long dead brother. He had to admit he had not been overly curious about his uncle before, accepting that he was with them only in the dilute and divergent progeny who regularly fostered at Imladris before leaving to rule at Annúminas. Now here was a hint that his uncle's life was not without its intrigues even before he made his choice to accept the Gift of Men. Someone, an elf, had loved him dearly once. "You have not told me who he is."

Ossë was silent for a time and paused as he seemed to consider whether or not to answer, yet there was at the same time no doubt that he had every intention of naming the heartbroken lover. He watched Elladan, waiting for the answer to come of its own accord, for the signs were obvious and few were the elves who could match the attributes so recently presented. When this realisation filled Elladan's eyes, then at last he spoke.

"Maglor."

"Maglor?!"

All the air rushed form Elladan's lungs as he spoke the name in hushed astonishment, amazed to have his guess confirmed, and yet the next instant felt he had always known, even as the very first lyrical strains of the song had reached him. No wonder his sense of recognition had been so strong; there was a portrait of Maglor and one of Maedhros hanging in the gallery of Imladris. A thousand questions burst upon his mind and he gave them voice.

"What is he doing here? How long has he been in Lindon? Why has no one said anything of it, for is he not banished permanently from all the elven realms?" A sudden thought seized his tongue. "You are hiding him, protecting him!"

"I am not hiding him; Nowë is aware of his presence and graciously leaves me to my own affairs, my own fate, as I leave him to his."

"I cannot believe that! Maglor is a kin-slayer; he and Maedhros decimated the havens at Sirion. Hîr Círdan would never give him shelter amid the kin of those he so brutally destroyed."

"You know nothing of Nowë, Elladan. He and I are the only ones left who were here when the Great Journey commenced. We were still here when the Noldor returned, their hands already bloody and their minds fractured by lust for the Silmarili. Through all the wars and horrors and treacheries to come we remained, he and I, steadfast in our purpose. When the War of Wrath was done and the earth reshaped, together we came here and established this place, this haven. We have an understanding you could never comprehend, though it was my hope that you might aid our cause. This haven was not designed to be the port of emigration for all the elves of Arda, though thus it has become. It was designed to be a haven for one, only one. We are both protecting Maglor, you see."

"You lie," Elladan shook his head in denial. "What you say implies knowledge of all that was to transpire because of those gems. You do not possess that much power for even Manwë does not see all ends."

"I did not need that sort of clarity to know the Silmarili and the foul Oath of Feänor would wreak havoc on Middle-earth. The simple fact that Morgoth had the jewels and that his possession of them, or rather the loss of them, broke Feänor's mind, was sufficient to understand how deadly, how perilous they would become." Ossë caught Elladan at the shoulders with both his scaly hands and gave him a brisk and jarring shake."Think! The jewels became tainted, as the Valar knew they would, once in the grasp of Melkor. Not all that happened because of that can be laid at the feet of the Noldorin Princes, especially not Maglor's. Of all people, you should appreciate that there is good in him, Elladan. Has your father said nothing of the love he bears for this ruined elf?"

"You are the one who is mad!" Elladan extricated himself from the unpleasant grip and backed away. "Adaren will not speak of them, either of them, so great is his disgust and shame to have been associated with them. He names that same ignominy as the cause which stole Elros from the First-born, and from him."

"Ai Valar! Can you be so dense or are you too frightened to investigate your own history?"

"I am not frightened," Elladan drew himself up and glared into the faded watery eyes of the Istar. "Not enough to cower before you and accept your words without question or argument."

"Good! Then consider what I have said and prepare your rebuttal. I welcome the chance to convince you of the truth. When I have done that, then we will talk again of how to help him. Maglor must not fade; I simply will not permit it, yet the Valar will not allow him entry to the Blessed Realm. An alternative must be found. You will help me realise it, Elladan. I leave you now, for I see Nowë has the guards out scouring the lands to find you. Meet me at the point tomorrow night."

Even as Ossë vanished, the strident shout of Enerdhil calling his name caused Elladan to turn toward Forlond, and he was stunned to see how much distance he had covered in the little time he and the Maia had conversed. Ossë must be responsible for his inexplicable speed, yet why stop here? Why not transport him to his rooms and prevent the unsightly scene that was about to unfold? The answer made him grimace in fury: Ossë wanted him to be humiliated by being marched back to Mithlond like an errant elfling, there to withstand Círdan's blistering censure. Well, for once he welcomed it; if the aged elda was truly in league with the volatile Maia he would admit it when questioned directly. Elladan determined to tell all to the Lord of Mithlond and demand whatever truth the Maia's words contained.






"Now you comprehend my reasons for wishing you had never returned to Lindon," intoned Círdan. He sat not behind his austere and document heaped desk but in the sunny courtyard of his massive abode. From the terraced gardens here one could look upon the ever-restless ocean, its waters a pale jade this morning, the waves calm and regular, the tide at its highest so that even the barnacles on the pilings at the docks were hidden beneath its salty expanse.

"No, I do not," sighed Elladan, "unless you fear that I will reveal Maglor's presence here to the populace."

"The people of Lindon know all about him," scoffed Círdan, shaking his head. "Does it not strike you as ominous that you, so much like Elros whom he loved, have come here at a time when Maglor is near his breaking point? I do not want you involved with him, Elladan. I do not want that on my conscience."

"Involved! How can you even suggest that?" Elladan was indignant, yet at the same time tingling warmth swept through him and conversely he shivered. Dark colour stained his ears and cheeks as he saw that Círdan noticed, the ellon's frown deeply disapproving. To shift attention from himself, he attacked. "There would be no cause to worry over me or anyone else if you sent him away, as the Law prescribes. Maglor is a kin-slayer, banished for all time from the company of those he betrayed so cruelly."

Now Círdan's cheeks darkened with anger but he held it in check, searing the younger elf with his glare until Elladan dropped his gaze to the floor. "You do right to look away, for you have over-reached your place in giving censure to me," said the ancient sea-elf. "Who says Maglor was banished? Where is that writ filed that I might seek to peruse its precepts and conditions? Well?" he demanded quietly, nodding as now Elladan's face suffused with scarlet. "You do not know, not because you have forgotten or were never told, but because that is but a tale, nothing more than myth and rumour. There is no ban upon Maglor. I could host him here in my own home should I so choose."

"Forgive me, Hîren, for my unjust accusation," murmured Elladan humbly.

"Think of it no more," answered Círdan kindly, rising to stand beside Elladan and look into his eyes. "You are not the first to make that error, nor is it likely the rumour will ever change. in truth, the banishment is of his own design. Maglor cannot forgive himself and so he shuns his kith and kin, yet neither can he summon courage to sail the sea and face the judgement of Manwë."

"Why does he linger in Lindon? Is it because Himling reminds him of his brother and of former days?"

"More than that, he dwells on Himling in the ruins there. It is all that remains of Beleriand that he can recognise. He had a family once and was happy for long centuries, when the Oath was quiet." Círdan fell silent and his gaze turned inward for a time, then he frowned and shook his head. "Nay, I do not want you to develop any sympathy for him, Elladan. Down that road lies the danger of which you have been warned. I see its spark in you, this compassion that is such a credit to your heart and soul, but it will be the agent of great strife for you if allowed to kindle, blossoming into the heat of desire and devotion."

"I assure you, Hîren, that I will do nothing so unseemly," Elladan croaked out awkwardly, hardly believing this must be spoken aloud. What sort of morals did the old elf think he possessed?

"Enough!" Círdan cut his hand sharply through the air and Elladan jumped. "This is neither Imladris nor Lothlorien. I do not place such unjust conditions upon my citizens, ordaining who is acceptable for them to love or not love. I do not care that you feel desire only for your own sex, Elladan. I fear for your feä, henellon, nothing less." He gripped Elladan at the biceps of either arm and forced him to meet his eyes. "I want you to leave Lindon. Today. Now. Enerdhil will serve on the council with no difficulty. It is clear to me you were brought here to be used, your good and compassionate heart, your uncanny resemblance, your repressed needs, all brought to bear on this unfortunate Noldorin Prince of old. Ossë means nothing less than to put you in Elros' place, to make you a substitute and thus to salvage Maglor from fading away at last."

Elladan gaped in speechless stupefaction. No one had ever spoken to him so bluntly. Even with Elrohir he'd never openly articulated his desires, save once, and that had been disastrous. In one sense it was a great relief to hear such hungers mentioned as commonplace and unimportant, except that clearly they were neither, not to him. On the other hand, it hurt his pride to learn that Círdan believed he could be so easily manipulated. How could Ossë force him to love Maglor? It was impossible and so in Elladan's mind this point resolved to one of negative perception, for obviously the ancient ruler must think him so dissolute as to engage in such carnal acts without the benefit of a true and abiding bond. He hardened the hurt into offended dignity and drew apart.

"I am sorry you believe me to be so inadequate. I can only tell you I would never undertake such a pretence with anyone, much less an elf almost broken in madness and despair. I will gather my belongings and depart within the hour." He bowed with crisp formality and returned to his quarters, glad beyond words to find Enerdhil absent, for to explain any of this to that elf would be far beyond the limit of his frayed nerves.

As for Círdan, he regretted his sharp words but would regret more should Elladan fall into Ossë's clutches. It was a near miss, too near, and he should never have agreed to let the boy come to Lindon at all. Even as he thought this, the sea-spirit materialised beside him.

"Do not be so glum, mellon iaur," he said. "You kept your vow and spared the young lord's heart a cruel blow. Well done! What difference if he thinks of you with hostility and aversion in the years ahead?"

"No difference, mellon iaur," nodded Nowë. "I thank you for holding to your promise. We must find another way to help Maglor."

"There is always his son to come and take his place."

"No! That shall not come to pass and even Ulmo has agreed it is right to spare him. My vow to aid this cause does not include extending the obligation to anyone else. The Oath has run its course; let not the last of the Noldorin Princes be punished, for he never spoke those heinous words nor raised sword against his own."

"Yes, yes, I am aware," placated Ossë. "Truly, I was only joking."

"That is a poor jest!" barked Círdan. He was agitated now and paced across the terrace and back, twisting the long silver strands of his beard in frustration. "There must be a way to reach Maglor; we cannot have come this far only to fail. Or perhaps someone else can take over his task. Maybe among the Avari lies our hope."

"I have already tried, Nowë, without success. The last was consumed so quickly; really, their spirits are too willing. Still, if it will ease your spirit I will make another attempt," sighed Ossë.

"It would," admitted Círdan.

"Then I shall go at once," smiled Ossë, his expression benign and filled with friendship ere he vanished, for truly he did love the old elf.

Besides, Círdan's words were so often prophetic, even when he did not mean them to be. Among the Avari lay their hope, for there he would find a willing confederate to lure Elladan away from his homeward journey, and there within the shelter of the pristine woods the water-god would hold his promised meeting with the young Imladrian Lord this night instead of on the morrow's.


Disclaimer: Main characters and settings originally created by JRR Tolkien. Just for fun, no money earned. OC's and story are erobey's.