Lands surrounding Rivendell

[Thraden]

"The goblins will deal with them. Let us return to Rivendell. It has been many a year since I last feasted in Elrond's House."

[Elrohir]

- Good Idea. The Inn will be a inviting place on a cold day like this.

They walked back to Rivendell

[Ecthelion]

The horse stood seventeen hands high at the shoulder, with an arched neck, and graceful head, its coat a gleaming fawn, the mane and tail long froth of pure white.
The rider was just as tall, just as beautiful, clad from head to heels in the most splendid of silvery armour.( although it was neither steel, nor mithril but an alloy made by the Noldor smiths caled Ithilnaur )
Only one who had dwelled in Valinor in the Elder Days and in the mighty Elf Kingdoms of Beleriand, would recognise the armour. It looked as if made in the design of tiny fish-scales, supple as cloth, harder than adamant, made both for beauty and for strength. The helm that the rider wore encased a face who's silver grey eyes glowed with an ancient light, high bones, a haughty mouth, the close grained fine white skin might have made the face too beautiful, too effette, but this was the beauty of the Noldor of Aman, stern and proud, not womanish, and the wide shoulders under the mail, the narrow waist, the long legs and the play of muscles under the supple armour showed honed strength. He moved like a cat, and a cat who has nothing to prove, having proved it all, long ago.
In the trackless mountains, there were few paths, and these were sometimes decieving, leading into crevasses, green bogs which could swallow horse and rider, but he knew, that somewhere in this wilderness, was the Elf Haven of Imladris.
When the mountains swallowed the last of the sunlight, he reined in and made camp, near mossy boulders, under a writhen stand of sessile oak, and gathered wood for a fire, which looked small and faint in the huge darkness all around him. He had shot, earlier in the day, a plump grouse, which he dressed and spitted, and roasted over the fire, then ate, slowly and sipping wine, from a wineskin.
Above the oaks, the stars showered down over the mountains, somewhere, lonely amd questioning, an owl called. The flames etched the Noldo's face out of the dimness, aloof, and calm, turning the eyes to silvery mirrors, the hair, loosed from the helm, fell to his waist in a thick spill of deep browns, gleaming, held back by the warrior braids which had been earned in a distant past when even the world was a different shape.
He leaned back against a boulder, eyes and ears alert to the sounds and movements in the night, as a hill fox approached his fire, reflective eyes flaming for a second, and he tossed a bit of meat to the creature, who seized it and vanished into the heather and gorse.
You *told* me of Imladris, in dreams, mellon nin he thought, across vast, unhuman distances, across shadowy seas , beyond the world, across both the past and the present, You loved it and now I will find and see it for myself.

From his pack he drew a lap harp, of a gleaming golden wood carved in designs of leaves , and his slender fingers brushed across the strings. His voice was rich and golden, the notes like falling water in a cool, high place of rainbows, the music floating out into the night.

O Gondolin!
Beautiful and hidden, as white flower in the winter's snow,
Amid the mountains in Tumladen, beyond the eyes of the black foe
O Gondolin!
Of white, silver and gold,
Most fair of the Noldor's cities of old

There minstrels sang, at the coming of dawn
They sang of the trees, which in the gardens have shone.
They sang of the fountains, which glittered beneath the sun
And their streams under Ulmo, joyfully ran.
They sang of the world, and his shaping in mirth
Of the clouds of the sky, and the ways of the earth
Of the depths of the sea, and the stars of the night
Which were made long ago, by Varda the bright.

In the courts of Turgon,
There stood two trees of powers
One made of gold, the other had silver flowers.
Glingal and Belthil, so were they called
And they were wrought by the king, in memory of old
The memory of the Two Trees which filled Valinor with great light
Ere Melkor destroyed them, and fled into the night.

O Gondolin
Beyond the words of beauty, which Elven tongue tells
High were your walls, smooth were your stairs.
Tall and strong was the tower, the white tower of the king
Which was wrapped in colorful flowers, at the times of the spring.

Wise and fair, the people of Gondolin grew
Beneath the sky where the eagles, of Manwe then flew.
Shutting their ears, for the woes of the land
Though to them hope still seemed bright, all to ruin fell Beleriand.

O Gondolin!
Mighty was your fall, by the pride of your greatness.
The white flower has withered, in unspeakable sadness.
A fair memory which lives only, in poems and dreams,
For your golden roofs lie beneath now, the many sea's streams *

( * The Tolkien Encylopedia )

[Ingold]

Ingold followed the voice of Ecthelion's song. He sang along softly while walking. "Vendui Ecthelion, Lord of the Fountain."

[Ecthelion]

The Noldo rose like a cat, his sword capturing shards of the fire and moonlight as it hissed from its housing, but he did not attack, it was a reflexive action.
' To find some-one who knows my name in these wild lands, my lord, is strange indeed, since it is long since I walked on Middle Earth. But since you know whom I am, will you not give me your name? '

[Ingold]

"My name is Ingold" he bowed "I am Gondolindrim."

[Ecthelion]

' It has been a long time, ' Ecthelion murmured, casting his mind back over six millenia, ' Eru, how strange, to find some-one from Gondolin, in Middle Earth, and deep in the wilds, ' he bowed in the fashion of the Noldor, one hand over his breast. ' I seek Imladris, the High Elven haven, lord Ingold, my friend, Lord Glorfindel lived there, '

[Ingold]

"I will lead you to Imladris, Mylord." Ingold said. He set off, follow foot prints of Elrohir and Thraden.

[Ecthelion]

Ectehelion lead Rochath, his great warhorse, following the other elf, as the sun rose over the wild lands, and they might have been the only people in this wilderness. He had not known a place so apparently hidden since Gondolin, within the Echoriath, the Encircling Mountains, and which perhaps never might have been found, save by base treachery. Wherever Imladris was, it was superbly concealed, no doubt the reason why it had been founded in such a place, long ago.
His ears caught a distant thunder, and suddenly, almost at Ingolds feet, it seemed, there was spread out like a jewel cupped by the mountains, Imladris



He halted Rocath, watching the glint of the sun on the waterfalls, playing a mutlitude of rainbows, through the noise of them, pouring from the cliffs, he could hear elven music, gentle and beautiful.
His warriors eye saw it as a near perfect place of defence, his elf-lords soul as a haven of beauty . he did not wish to break the silence, but he said.
' I thankyou, Lord Ingold, tell me, does Elrond Half-Elven still rule this place. Little knowledge passes in dream or vision to those of the Eldalie who dwell in Eldamar, of what passes in Middle earth. And there is much I wish to know of the lands, '

[Ingold]

"Aye, Lord Elrond is still ruling this valley." Ingold replied "I will lead you down to Imladris, Lord. This road may be quite dangerous, I suggest you dismount your horse."

[Ecthelion]

Ecthelion dismounted, looping the reins over the stallions head, speaking softly to him, as he followed Ingold.
' As you know, of course, Lord Elrond, is son of Earendil, whom I knew as a boy, son of Indril and Tuor, and Idril is Turgons daughter, so I should be pleased to greet him, '