It took three days to traverse the pass of Caradhras.

Haleth thought she saw one of the great eagles, a tiny speck high above them in the heavens. She mentioned it to Inglor. He gazed skywards, his eyes shielded against the sun by his long, delicate hand, but he had not said anything of it.

Wilderland was far less adventurous than Haleth remembered it. They had been travelling for days and had only twice heard the lonely howl of wolves in the distance. The Misty Mountains and their foothills loomed behind them. The green plains of Wilderland stretched away to the east and the great river Anduin glittered, a blue-grey ribbon under the summer sun. Beyond it, forest was a hint of darkness on the very edges of sight.

A glimpse of the forest brought a long abandoned thought to Haleth's mind. Inglor had never actually explained why he had chosen to go around the woods rather than it. The elves of Mirkwood were not of the same folk as those of Rivendell, but at least some of them were acquainted with the two travelers. Curious, Haleth wanted to know the reason for Inglor’s decision. A straight answer was undoubtedly beyond her capabilities to extract, but a few hints would give her something to ponder.

"Inglor," she asked as they rode along the gently sloping grasslands, side by side. "Why are we not going through Mirkwood? The elves would undoubtedly welcome us."

He did not immediately respond. Haleth was beginning to think that he would simply ignore her question when he began to speak.

"It is called Eryn Lasgalen now,” he reminded her.  “The source of the darkness has been cleansed from the forest, but there are still places where it lies heavy on the woods. It is too dangerous."

"Dangerous?" she exclaimed, incredulous. "Since when has that ever been a consideration? I'll have you know that I was going into far more dangerous situations before I met you. I don't need your protection."

"Haleth," Inglor reined in his horse. Her mare pulled a few strides ahead. The speech had been delivered in a bantering way, but Inglor was beginning to recognise the tone as a precursor to an enormous rage. Haleth's lips were pursed in a thin smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Haleth," he sighed, "I never said that you could not look to yourself. Our business is with the palantir. If we went into the forest, it would be far too easy to become distracted helping to cleanse the wood. 

“Remember what happened the last time we passed through Mirkwood,” he said darkly.

“Eryn Lasgalen,” she interrupted.

“Yes, thank-you.  Eryn Lasgalen,” he continued smoothly.  “If you truly wish, we can return there after we have delivered the palantir to its rightful owner."

Inglor was making a valid point, but Haleth knew there was more left unsaid.  His expression was odd. With a shock, Haleth realized Inglor was worried. What could possibly be upsetting him? Did he think she would ride off to Mirkwood…or Eryn Lasgalen…without him, intent on an adventure of her own? There was no point; he would follow.

"Very well," she agreed after a long pause. "We'll go your way. But I still don't fully understand."

"Good!”  He smiled, genuinely relieved. 

"Good that we're going your way or good that I don't understand?" she asked suspiciously.

Inglor spoke quietly to his horse.  The animal immediately began to move forward.  Haleth’s mare followed before she could give it any command.  ‘Must I always be one step behind?’ she thought resentfully.

"Do you know any songs?" Inglor suddenly asked.

Haleth glared at him, angered by the transparent attempt to distract her.  She could demand that he not change the subject, but experience told her there was little point.  They had had similar conversations in the past and they had all followed the same pattern.  It would end in Haleth losing her temper and shouting regrettable things.  Inglor would calmly endure her abuse until she lost her stamina.  Once she had recovered, Haleth would feel extremely guilty her tantrum but she would have learned nothing from Inglor.

"I know parts of many of the elven songs," she answered sourly. "But I cannot sing them properly."

"What about a human song?" he asked.

Haleth considered. Somewhere in the dim reaches of her memory were the songs she had sung as a child. Inglor had probably heard most of them before; they had been derived from the tales of the Elder Days. 

There were also the songs she had sung with her compatriots when she had grown, after her world had begun to unravel.
 
"Inglor," she asked. "Do elves use songs to make fun of people or situations they are not fond of?"

"No," he said slowly, as if the concept confounded him.

"Humans do," she said brightly. "Let me sing an example for you."

She launched into a wickedly satirical song which questioned the intelligence, actions and parentage of a long dead noble. Her voice rose and fell in long forgotten cadences which had not been heard in Middle-earth for over an age. As she sang it seemed that the voices of her friends, forever gone except in memory, joined her.

When she had finished, she glanced at Inglor and immediately became concerned. His eyes were as wide as saucers and his mouth hung slightly open with pure astonishment.

"Oh come now," Haleth laughed. "My voice isn't that bad! Besides, you asked."

Inglor forced his mouth closed.

"I never said it was bad," he said quietly. "It is simply that...the song. I have never heard anything like it."

"Human music is that different from elvish music?" she smiled.

"Not at all," he was incredibly distracted, almost awestruck. "It is difficult to explain. It is...new."

"No," Haleth corrected him. "It's quite old by the human way of reckoning."

"That is not what I meant." Inglor rubbed his face, his voice distant. "It has been a very, very long time since I have experienced anything that I have not seen or heard thousands of times before. I did not think there was anything I had not already encountered."

Haleth had known, on an intellectual level, that this must be the case. She had not truly appreciated how it would affect the way an elf saw the world. Or how finding something new could become an earth-shattering experience. She was worried about Inglor's reaction but he threw back his head and laughed. His mirth was a reflection of pure delight and Haleth found herself laughing along with him.

"Do you know any more songs like that last one?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"More than I care to admit," Haleth answered.

"Could you sing them for me, please?"

"I'll do what I can," she said. "Under one condition."

"What?" he suddenly looked serious.

"Once you know the words you must join in the chorus," she said. "These songs aren't meant to be sung alone."