[saerwen] mae govannen

[nimithil]

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The sun was going down over the woodlands as Nimithil walked the woodland border – stepping lightly from branch to branch through the trees as his deep blue eyes scanned the distant horizon. Beyond the forest, the world was open: miles and miles of great sweeping hills, and valleys cut deep into the rock. It was breath-taking. Until the middle prince had abandoned his home, much of his life had been contained to the underground caverns of his Father's halls and the deep shadows of the once-great Greenwood: to finally be able to walk freely across the open plains was a blessing for the young elf, and one he did not take lightly. As the orange light hit the plains, Nim slowed to a halt in his walk through the trees – leaning lightly against the trunk of the tree in whose boughs he stood as he took in the views.

It had, thus far, been a far from easy journey. Even passing as far as the borders of Mirkwood alone without company was almost suicidal in these dark times, and the many roads of Middle Earth had been no better – but Nimithil could hardly turn back now. He had placed everything he had worked towards for all the many years of his life on the line to seek his little brother, and to return home without him would be to lose it all. Besides, despite the pain and the hardship of his quest, a part of the young elf was more content than he had been from hundreds of years. Standing, poised for action in the tree line – one hand hovering over broken ribs, dark bruises and deep welted cuts mottling his face and torso – Nim was smiling.

Alone in the world and with his thoughts, the young elf had, on occaision, let his shadowed emotions effect him – but there was no denying the new level of freedom he had away from his home. Here, Nim could be himself for the first time in years. He could smile, and laugh – and be as generous and hopeful as he had always meant to be. There was no pressure to change, because there was no one to change him. So it was, that at some of the hardest times in his life, that Nimithil found himself feeling at his free-est. Opening his mouth, the middle prince sang, his pure and powerful voice filling the forest.

[saerwen]

Saerwen finally had silence again. After leaving the kingdom of Rohan she traveled to and fro, never really stopping in one place for long. She preferred it that way since it meant nobody tried to form attachments to her. The elf of Mirkwood had long since abandoned ideas of being close with anyone. It hadn't helped her love in the war, and it certainly hadn't helped her brother. Saerwen chose to keep to herself and work for whoever asked her to do something useful. That was her purpose in life. She wasn't the elf who would stay home and wait for someone to return to her anymore. And she couldn't keep still anyway, so it was good for her to have something to do. Even if many people thought that what she did was wrong. Maybe it was, but Saerwen had lost most of the hope she had had that the dark lord Sauron would ever be defeated. That being the case, she worked with both sides. That way, she'd never be in an unfortunate situation if either side won. Or at least, not as unfortunate as others might be who resisted.

But her double sided work wasn't what she was focused on at that moment. What bothered her was not knowing what was going on that had many of the elves whispering, and plotting. Something was going on, and Saerwen was determined to find out what that was. All she knew was that a group of nine people of varied races set out from Rivendell. Their purpose was a mystery, that she needed to solve. The elf hated being in the dark about this, even though she tended to stay uninvolved with her race. It didn't matter. The situation was going to drive her mad if she kept from discovering the purpose for the quest. Which was why she had been riding after the strange folk, despite the fact that the elves of Rivendell tried to dissuade her. Since none of them chose to give her any information, Saerwen was going to get it for herself. Thus, she was riding through woodlands close to Mirkwood, partially considering returning home to get supplies, while also wanting to just avoid the place entirely. She spent a good day trying to decide, but when night fell she still didn't know what she wanted to do.

Finally, the next morning she decided to leave things as they were and go figure out where those nine companions went. Saerwen walked through the trees, with her horse following behind her. In the forests she felt much happier to walk amongst the branches on foot, rather than ride. The elf enjoyed the sanctity of the trees and the silence, before being startled and nearly crying out as she heard singing coming towards her. Saerwen was immediately on guard and pulled out her sword as quickly as she could, ready for anything. She stepped forward toward the voice cautiously, one hand holding her horse's reins, the other clutching her sword rightly. Her keen eyes and ears sensed that the person approaching was an elf, but she couldn't understand why anyone else would be this far out from any city. It didn't take much time until she finally came across the person who was responsible for the disruptive singing. And she couldn't help but be surprised. Coming from Mirkwood, she naturally knew one of Thranduil's sons when she saw him.

Still, it was unusual to see any of them this far away from the elven king. "A strange place for singing. Most would use caution in these woods." Saerwen commented coolly as she eyed him, wondering what he might do. She never knew really with any of her kind. Some might tolerate her, and others were generally unfriendly. If that was the case, she would prepare to leave as soon as possible. She still clung to her sword and her horse, wanting to be sure that nothing could happen to her if this elf turned out to be unpleasant to deal with.