Oh Daughter Dear

Talk Of War

Naneth leads me out of the room, saying they were going to discuss important things concerning adults only. At this I snort, but can do nothing. Except for eavesdrop, of course.

"Celebrimbor, I urge you to do no dealings with Sauron. He brings ruin wherever he goes." Gil-galad sounds wise.

"And if he does come, in some cloak or fair form, should I not treat him them?" Then Naneth.

"Calm, my meleth. We cannot afford for this to happen."

"Can you leave Eregion, Silver-hand?"

"Not with my wife in her condition. I also will not leave the guild here alone."

"Condition?"

"Yes, my lord. We are expecting another elfling."

"That is kind news in a time of war. I must warn you, however, that if you do not leave soon, Sauron will find you."

"And where will we stay? There are no good sources of metal at Forlindon, I would be of no use to you there."

"But you will all perish if you stay. The Númenoreans believe they have Sauron as a captive, all while he ensnares the king Ar-Pharzon's mind. And we have only a small amount of them on our side, the elf-friends. With Númenor against us, we stand no chance." All this and more.

It concerns me. I start to sniffle as they continue to speak of war and terror. Suddenly behind me I see a man. He comes towards me and I shrink away.

"Hello Gailthîr." He smiles gently, and his voice sounds calming. Soft brown hair tumbles down his shoulders, which are slightly broader than one might expect. I can see his grey eyes meet mine.

He wears the crest of Gil-galad, which is the crest of Fingolfin the great Noldorin king of old.

"Do not fear us, elfling. We are akin, only fearing for your position as the days darken." As he speaks I look up at him solemnly.

"But there is change in the air. What once was between us and the Numenoreans is gone. Servants of darkness plague the east, and corruption of great kings the west. The end is near, Lord Elrond." I am familiar with his name, for he had visited once before.

"But not all Numenoreans are fell." His eyes sparkle as he calls to someone in the shadows. "Elendil, come." A tall man with fair golden hair and wise blue eyes kneels down before me. His eyes search mine nervously, betraying his inexperience.

"Lord Elrond, is this an elfling?" He asks rather timidly. My temper flares and I grab his shoulder.

"Yes sir. You are to speak to me directly. I am the Mistress Gailthîr of Eregion. Do not forget it. My father is the Lord Celebrimbor Curufinion. My mother is Lady Kalaina of Forlindon. Address me as such."

His eyes sparkle apologetically. "I am sorry, my lady, I was forgetting that elves age far slower in body then us men, but far quicker in intellect. You have a sharp tongue, Mistress Gailthîr. It shall do you well."

Lord Elrond prods his shoulder, and the man seems to remember something. "Ah, forgive me, it seems I have forgotten to introduce myself."

"Oh, there is no need Elendil, I already know who you are."

He rolls his eyes. "Clearly not. I am Prince Elendil of Numenor. I am the rightful heir to the throne. My father is Prince Amandil of the Elf-friends, and he is currently busy working on sabotaging Numenor. My mother was a beautiful lady named Rôthtârik."

"Oh, I see, Prince. What of your immediate family?"

His face takes on a happier note. "My wife is of Numenorean blood, but took a name of Quenyan as did us ourselves. She is Calatín, and of many beauties she is fairest. She is the one who bore me two sons. They are Isildur and Anárion. Bless their hearts. Young are they, but wise, wiser than many in the court of Numenor."

"My mother is expecting, I hope it is girl so that we might be as they sound."

His eyes are glassy. "I hope, for your sake Mistress Gailthîr, that your father decides to leave. Or else he may not be able to."