54: Training Days

"Hold!" Eönwë shouted.

Manveru stepped back immediately from the fray, never completing his strike, thereby overbalancing a winded Glorfindel who staggered slightly when his parry met empty air. The Maia gave him a grin and grabbed his forearm to keep him from falling on his face. Sweat was dripping from under Glorfindel’s helm and the tunic under his chainmail was soaked. Manveru looked as if he hadn’t done anything more strenuous that day than bend down and smell the meadow flowers.

Eönwë stepped forward and took Glorfindel by the arms so that the ellon was facing him. The Herald of Manwë gave him a piercing look as if gauging the health of his very soul. Glorfindel just stood there trying to catch his breath and did not flinch from the Maia’s gaze. He was beginning to get used to it, though it still made him feel uncomfortable.

"I think that’s enough for today," Eönwë said. "You’re too tired to continue."

Glorfindel shook his head. "No. I just need to... catch my breath," he protested, straightening his body even though every muscle was screaming at him and he wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot tub, though in the weeks since he had come to Clearwater Glade he had yet to see one.

Now Manveru stepped forward, a more solicitous look on his face than before. "You’re overextending yourself, Swordbrother," the Maia said. "Rest and tomorrow we will go at it again."

"There’s little time...." Glorfindel started to say but Eönwë interrupted him, giving him a slight shake.

"There is more than enough time," he said. "You’re not going to do anyone any good if you kill yourself trying to be what you are not."

"I’m still not good enough...."

"Glorfindel," Nyéreser said, coming towards them from the sidelines where the other Maiar were watching, handing the elf a flask of water which he gratefully took, "you are already a better swordsman than you were before you came to this glade. I doubt even Finrod could best you now. We still have a month before Arafinwë leaves for Tol Eressëa. I assure you that in that time you will be even better, but you will still not be as good as we are."

"I don’t want to be as good as you are, Nyéreser," Glorfindel said with a scowl as he handed the flask back to the Maia. "I want to be better."

There was laughter all around even though it was obvious from Glorfindel’s expression that he was entirely serious. Eönwë shook his head and gave the ellon a fond smile. "That will never happen, child," the Maia said, "for we have one talent that you do not possess that gives us an edge."

"What talent is that?"

Eönwë glanced at Manveru and Nyéreser, both of them nodding slightly at an unspoken question, before returning his attention to Glorfindel. "We have the ability to see a little into the future, not very far, just a few minutes ahead, but enough to know where your strikes will come and be able to counteract them."

Glorfindel blinked a couple of times trying to assimilate what the Maia had told him. "You’re cheating?" was all he could think to say.

Now there were rueful looks on the Maiar’s faces. "It’s not cheating when it’s a natural ability," Manveru said apologetically, "one that is simply there and used unconsciously."

"Even when you were fighting at my level?" Glorfindel demanded. His expression was one of hurt and confusion bordering on anger, anger none of them wanted to provoke.

The Maiar all shook their heads. "When we fight at your level," Manveru said, "we don’t... cheat, as you put it. But you are fighting at our level and that is one of our natural weapons, you might call it. We all employ it when sparring. It adds to the challenge and we used it against our Fallen Brethren even as they used it against us when we fought in ages past."

"It’s still cheating, though," Glorfindel stated firmly, "because I don’t have that talent. I’m fighting at a disadvantage. How can I hope to improve if I am fighting under a handicap?"

"But that’s just the point," Nyéreser said. "Even not knowing about this little talent of ours, you still found ways to surprise us. Your own natural talents have been honed over these last few weeks so now you are fighting at a level few of the Eldar could reach, no matter how long and hard they trained. You should be proud of your accomplishments, Glorfindel."

"But...."

Eönwë shook his head. "Enough. The lessons are over for the day. Rest and reflect on what you have learned. Tomorrow will be soon enough for you to take your frustrations out on us again." He gave Glorfindel a wry smile.

Glorfindel sighed, unbuckling his helm and removing it, wiping the sweat drying on his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic. "I so wish for a hot bath," he said dejectedly. "I think the moment I return to Tirion I’m going to order one and never come out."

Chuckles swept through the throng of Maiar who had come that day to see Glorfindel train. "Well, if it’s a bath you’re looking for...." Manveru said as he gave the ellon a broad grin. Before Glorfindel could react he found himself being lifted into the Maia’s arms and then he was flying through the air towards the lake. He gave a screech of pure terror as he plummeted towards the waters, fearing that he would land in shallow waters, thereby breaking every bone in his body, or sink with all his armor on if he was fortunate enough to land in deeper waters. At the very last moment before he hit the lake strong arms grabbed him. It took several precious minutes before his heart stopped racing and he was no longer panting in fright. He felt cool water wash over him and, opening his eyes, found himself staring up at Manveru smiling down at him. He was cradled in the Maia’s arms. Manveru dipped him gently into the water. It was cool and refreshing and Glorfindel gave an involuntary sigh of relief.

"You didn’t seriously think I would let you become injured or drowned, did you, Swordbrother?" Manveru said gently. "Lord Manwë would never forgive me and Lord Námo would make my life so miserable I would probably wish for death." He chuckled as if at a jest, but Glorfindel was feeling too weak from the scare he’d been given to respond with a rejoinder. Manveru gazed at him much the same way Eönwë did and he tried not to flinch, but his thoughts and emotions were all in a jumble and he wasn’t sure how to still them.

"Let’s go back, shall we?" the Maia finally said and walked a few feet towards the shore until they were in waters that were not over Glorfindel’s head. Then he released the ellon from his embrace. Glorfindel found that he was able to stand, though Manveru had to hold him up, lending him a hand as together they made their way back to the camp. Eönwë was waiting for them, his expression unreadable to Glorfindel who had begun to tremble from reaction.

"You’re white as a sheet, child," Eönwë said solicitously, taking Glorfindel by the other arm. The two Maiar helped him to the fire where they stripped him of his wet things and threw a warm blanket over his shivering frame. Lisselindë, who had been tending the fire, handed the ellon a cup of hot tea but Glorfindel was shaking so much now that he couldn’t hold the cup in his hands.

"He’s in shock," Eönwë muttered as he gave Manveru a disapproving glare. The other Maia had the grace to look chagrined. "He may get his wish for a hot bath sooner than he thinks." Without another word he lifted Glorfindel in his arms and then started running at a pace no elf could hope to match, making his way around the lakeshore towards the northeast. All the Maiar who were still at the camp kept pace with him, knowing where they were heading.

"Those springs are much too hot," Nyéreser said as he ran beside Eönwë. "Glorfindel will be scalded."

"We can draw off some of the water and mix it with the cooler lake water," Eönwë replied, not even breathing hard.

"I’ll see to that," Manveru said and thought himself away. Lisselindë disappeared as well.

The rest of them made their way to the edge of the glade where a tumble of boulders hid a hot spring bubbling up through the rocks. Water flowed into a natural cavity, forming a small pool. When they came to it, they found that Manveru had already caused a channel to be dug leading some of the water into another depression that was deep enough to bathe in. Lisselindë appeared with a couple of large buckets full of lake water and was mixing it in with the steaming spring water that smelled faintly of rotten eggs. When enough water filled the depression, Manveru closed the channel. Lisselindë tested the water and nodded to Eönwë, who removed Glorfindel’s blanket and slipped him into the pool. It was deep enough to cover him but shallow enough to keep his head above water. All the while, Glorfindel never stopped trembling and it was several long minutes before the spasms slowed while the Maiar stood about watching anxiously.

"Next time," Eönwë muttered angrily at Manveru, though he never took his eyes off Glorfindel, "think before you act. It’s one thing to do something like that to one of us, but Glorfindel is mirroanwë and his fear of injury or death was very real in those brief seconds before you caught him."

"Too real," Glorfindel whispered, giving a sigh of relief as he felt the final tremors leave his body. He sank further into the steaming water and closed his eyes, letting the heat soothe him though the faint rotten egg smell irritated the back of his throat and stung his eyes.

"And for that, I apologize," Manveru said contritely.

"Are you feeling better, Glorfindel?" Lisselindë asked solicitously.

"As opposed to what?" Glorfindel rejoined, never opening his eyes. He could feel himself drifting and would have welcomed sleep now that he was over the terror and his sore muscles began to ease. He heard a sigh that was nowhere and everywhere and then there was silence. He cracked open an eye to see if he had suddenly been deserted by the Maiar but found that most of them were still there, but now there was another presence. Opening both eyes he looked up to see Lord Manwë standing there. That surprised him. He would have figured Lord Námo or at least Lord Oromë. Lord Tulkas had come around on occasion to watch his training and give him some pointers before going on his way again, but none of the other Valar had made an appearance during the last few weeks while the Maiar trained him.

And now, here was Lord Manwë and he did not look at all pleased. "I trust there’s an explanation for all this," he said quietly.

Eönwë began to explain but Glorfindel cut him off. "I complained about not having had a hot bath since coming to this place. No one told me about the hot springs until now."

Manwë gave him a piercing look, one that Glorfindel could not easily meet and the ellon soon found himself staring down at his toes, the redness of his skin not entirely due to the heat of the pool. "Your terror was felt on every wavelength, Glorfindel," Manwë said. "Only the fact that Eönwë assured me that he had the situation under control prevented every one of the Valar from rushing to your aid."

Glorfindel looked up in surprise and Manwë nodded, a faint smile creasing his lips at the sight of the ellon sitting in water up to his shoulders looking nonplused and completely surrounded by warrior Maiar, Lisselindë being the only exception.

"I was just taken by surprise," Glorfindel said somewhat lamely, giving a shrug. "No blood, no blame, as Finrod will say."

"Hmm...." Manwë said, looking unconvinced. "Well, see that it doesn’t happen again." This last was directed at the Maiar, particularly Manveru, all of whom bowed deeply to the Elder King. Then Manwë glanced back at Glorfindel and a genuine smile graced his lips and reached his eyes. "You are doing quite well, hinya. We are very pleased with your progress. However, fighting is not the only skill you will need to hone. Tomorrow, you will rest completely and then the following day I will send you another teacher. You can resume your sword training next week."

There was something in the Elder King’s tone that stopped Glorfindel from issuing a protest. Instead, the ellon just nodded meekly. Then he gave Eönwë a cheeky grin. "As long as I’m here, do you mind fetching me some soap and a towel?"

Eönwë chuckled. "I’ll have Manveru do that. Consider him your personal valet for the rest of the day, punishment for his not thinking."

"Punishment for whom?" Glorfindel quipped, sticking his tongue out at Manveru who took the ribbing in good grace.

The rest chuckled at that. Satisfied that all was well with the ellon, Manwë took his leave, taking most of the Maiar with him. Only Nyéreser, Tiutalion, Lisselindë and Manveru remained along with Eönwë. Manveru called forth some scented soap and a washcloth and Glorfindel set about undoing his braids so he could give his hair a good wash. Glorfindel had long ago ceased feeling self-conscious before the Maiar, especially Lisselindë. During the days of his recovery, she was the one who often bathed him and kept him clean, changing the dressings on his wounds, while Nyéreser and Tiutalion held him up during her ministrations. When he was finished with his bath, Manveru held out a large absorbent towel for him to slip around his shoulders. Drying off, the ellon then dressed in the tunic and trews that the Maia brought to him.

"It’s a fair distance back to the camp," Eönwë said when Glorfindel was finished dressing, running a comb through his golden locks so that the afternoon sun could dry them. "It’ll be dusk before you get there. Dinner will be waiting for you. Manveru can show you the way. If you would like, I’ll see about constructing a real bathing pool for your use."

Glorfindel thanked the Maia who, together with Lisselindë, Tiutalion and Nyéreser, then faded from view, leaving him and Manveru alone. "Camp is this way," Manveru said, pointing in the direction of the lake. Together the two made their way back, walking in companionable silence, reaching the camp just as Anar was setting. Glorfindel ate perfunctorily and then retired early, but his dreams were disturbing and once he woke in a state of terror, though he could not say why. It took the Maiar some time to reassure him and help him fall back to sleep again.

****

It was nearly noon before Glorfindel woke again, feeling groggy and out of sorts. His muscles ached and his head throbbed. The sky was a brilliant blue and there were high white clouds that hid the sun at times. A light breeze swept across the lake, glinting with sun glare that made Glorfindel’s eyes water.

"Take a long walk after you’ve broken your fast," Lisselindë suggested. "That will ease your aching muscles. I think you’re still recovering from the shock you received yesterday, which is why Lord Manwë ordered complete rest for today."

Glorfindel nodded and in truth he didn’t want to do anything more strenuous than decide which direction to go for his walk. In the end, he chose to walk into the forest where the shade of the trees blocked the glare of the sun, bringing some relief to his throbbing temples. After a little while he could actually feel the tension leave his body and he began to relax and enjoy the forest for itself.

He did not wander too far from the area, perhaps only a mile or so away from the camp. Eventually he tired and settled himself against the bole of a tree, allowing the forest to sooth him. He could hear the chatter of birds and squirrels and the rustling of leaves. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift, seeing if he could sense anything the way Lisselindë and the others had been teaching him. Somewhere nearby was a burrowing creature, perhaps a rabbit or mole, he wasn’t quite sure. Further afield he thought he sensed deer making their way through the forest towards the lake. He felt nothing threatening in the area, not even the usual threat of predators after their prey. All was peaceful and after a time Glorfindel let his mind drift even further and soon he was fast asleep.

****

Thunder woke him and he sat up with a start, momentarily disoriented. The light of the forest, which had been a soft golden-green earlier was now darker, gloomier, though not quite the darkness of night. The forest canopy kept most of the rain now falling from reaching him so he was relatively dry, but it would be a soggy walk back to the camp nonetheless. While he had paid little attention to directions as he wandered through the forest, he had instinctively chosen the north side of the tree to lean against once he stopped. It was one of the lessons in woodscraft that Nyéreser had taught him early on, so in a situation such as he now found himself where the sun was lost to him, he would always know which direction he was facing. Thus, he headed towards his right, cautiously making his way through the forest, flinching when thunder rolled in the distance, though he did not see any lightning.

In the gloom it was hard to tell what time it was but from the rumbling of his stomach that almost matched the rumbling of the thunder overhead, he guessed it was close to the dinner hour and hoped that a hot meal would be waiting for him once he reached the camp. He did not think he would come out of the forest right where the camp was, and that assumption proved correct. The forest began to open up more and he eventually found himself back in Clearwater Glade. He was soaked almost immediately even standing under the forest eaves as rain lashed at him. Now he could see lightning flashing over the mountains illuminating the area in an eerie glow. He could see the lake just before him, its waters grey with choppy waves. He knew enough of the glade’s geography to realize that he was some distance south of the camp, so he turned to his left and walked along the forest edge. By now, the gloom of the storm had deepened into true night, so he did not travel as quickly as he would like.

Lightning flashed nearly overhead and he cringed, shutting his eyes from the glare. There was a sound of something cracking and he had just enough time to realize that a nearby tree had been hit before half the tree (or so it seemed to him) fell on him, pinning him to the ground. He almost passed out, but gathered his wits about him and tried to push what turned out to be one of the larger tree limbs away, but it was too heavy and he could not get any leverage, for he was face down and his legs were trapped.

"Great, just great," he muttered angrily as he spat out some mud, trying to gauge his situation. It would be useless to call out. No one was going to hear him above the storm. His only option was to wait it out and hope that the Maiar would find him eventually, but he feared they would waste time searching the woods, not thinking that he would be here in the glade. There was no help for it, so he put his head down in the crook of an elbow and waited.

****

"Where is he?" Lisselindë cried. "Can you sense him at all?"

The other Maiar shook their heads. Even before the storm hit they had been out hunting for the ellon. He had been gone longer than any had anticipated and they were beginning to worry. The coming storm did nothing to allay their concerns for Glorfindel’s safety.

"He’s nowhere nearby, as far as we can tell," Tiutalion said with a frustrated sigh. "Yet, he could not have gone too far."

"We should have told him to stick to the glade," Lisselindë replied with a scowl. "We knew the storm was coming."

"Yet, we did not warn him of it," Nyéreser said, "so he had no reason not to leave the glade."

"An oversight that I will make sure never happens again," Lisselindë said, taking it personally.

Tiutalion shook his head. "We were all at fault, so don’t blame yourself. We’ll find him. I suspect that whatever else he may have been doing, as soon as the storm hit he started back towards camp. It’s possible that he simply made his way back to the glade from a different direction. Nyéreser, head south while I go north. Lisselindë, stay here in case by some miracle he actually returns."

"I’ll make sure the lean-to is sufficiently protected from the storm and have a hot meal ready for him," she said and the other two Maiar set off.

****

Glorfindel stirred as he felt someone kneeling beside him. He opened his eyes to see Nyéreser there, his eyes full of concern. "Are you injured?" the Maia asked as his eyes swept the limb holding the ellon in place.

"I can’t feel my legs," Glorfindel answered, "but I don’t know if it’s just that they’ve gone numb from lack of circulation or if it’s something more."

"I’ll remove the limb but I do not want you to move until I’ve checked you over, is that clear?"

Glorfindel nodded, wiping the rain from his eyes. The storm had moved northward and the rain was falling less heavily. He was shivering from the wet and cold. "I fell asleep and the storm woke me," he explained as Nyéreser began lifting the limb off him. "I would have made it if I hadn’t been walking under the tree when it was hit."

Nyéreser said nothing, pushing the heavy limb away so that Glorfindel was completely clear. He then knelt down and ran a hand above the ellon’s body, ascertaining if there was any serious damage. He could sense that the spine was uninjured and that it was only the weight of the limb and the awkward position that Glorfindel was in that had prevented him from freeing himself.

"You appear uninjured, though I suspect you will have many bruises," Nyéreser said. "Try moving your legs but do not attempt to rise."

Glorfindel complied, though he still had little feeling in his lower extremities. Still, the numbing sensation was being replaced by prickling and he felt his left leg bend at the knee. Then he did the same with the right leg.

"Good," Nyéreser said and Glorfindel detected a sigh of relief coming from the Maia. "When you have full feeling in your legs let me know and I’ll help you to stand."

"How far are we from camp?" Glorfindel asked.

"Not far," came the answer. "We wasted time searching the woods before we decided to look for you in the glade."

Glorfindel nodded. "I thought you might do that. I didn’t mean to wander so far afield."

"Not your fault," Nyéreser said. "We knew a storm was coming but forgot to mention it. Lisselindë is going to take you being felled by the tree personally."

Glorfindel could hear the smile in the Maia’s voice and chuckled. "She’s not the only one. All right, I think the worst of the tingling is over. Help me stand up. The sooner we get back to camp the better."

Nyéreser reached down and gently lifted him up, holding him steady as he tried to get his feet under him. He hissed as he placed his right foot firmly to the ground, for the leg was stiff and dead feeling still. "This may take a while," he said through gritted teeth.

"I could carry you...." Nyéreser started to say but Glorfindel shook his head.

"I prefer to walk," he said, "even if it takes all night."

"Then we will walk," the Maia responded. "Try moving forward. The more you move your legs the better the circulation. Do not fear. I will not let you fall."

Glorfindel nodded and took a hesitant step forward, glad for the Maia’s support. It was indeed slow going and the bruising he had suffered was beginning to be painful. Still, after a dozen or so steps he was walking more normally, though slowly. With no stars to light the way, his path was dark and he could see very little ahead. Nyéreser helped steer him around obstacles and kept their path true. Thus, after about an hour they could see the campfire burning brightly. By now the rain had stopped completely, but a cold wind made Glorfindel uncomfortable, his wet clothes clinging to him. Lisselindë and Tiutalion were there, Nyéreser having informed them through ósanwë that Glorfindel had been found.

"Let’s get him out of these wet clothes and dried off," Nyéreser said as they came into the camp. At once, Tiutalion helped Nyéreser with the task of stripping the ellon of his clothes, then bundling him up in a couple of warm blankets, pushing him towards the fire while Lisselindë thrust a cup of hot tea into his cold hands.

"Thank you," Glorfindel whispered after taking a grateful sip. "Sorry to be such a bother. I never saw the tree coming down."

"At least you are uninjured," Lisselindë said solicitously, "except for the bruises. It could have been much worse."

"I know," Glorfindel agreed. By now the events of the last couple of hours were taking their toll and he found himself yawning. The Maiar insisted that he have some hot broth to take the chill out of his bones before letting him crawl into the dry lean-to where he fell instantly asleep.

****

The next morning dawned bright and clear and Glorfindel felt only the slightest twinge of pain from the bruising he had received. Breakfast was waiting for him and then afterwards he decided to go to the hot spring and soak away some of the stiffness he was still feeling.

"I promise not to go any further than that," he told the Maiar. "I know Lord Manwë is sending someone today. Do you have any idea who it might be and what they will be teaching me?"

All three Maiar shook their heads. "We have not been told," Tiutalion answered. "It will be as much a surprise for us as it is for you. Go and enjoy your soak. When you return I suspect your new teacher will be here waiting for you."

Anar was high enough to begin drying the grasses so his walk towards the hot spring was not as wet as he had feared. It was a lovely spring morning and in spite of the pain he was in Glorfindel’s mood reflected the day. Before he was out of sight of the camp he was humming a sprightly tune. When he reached the hot spring he found that the Maiar had created a lovely bathing pool with a sluice gate to allow the water to run down from the spring. Another channel had been dug that led away from the pool. It too had a sluice gate, thus allowing the pool to drain after use. A wooden cistern had been built next to the pool filled with lake water and rainwater. A pail stood beside it and once Glorfindel had filled the pool with enough hot water, he began pouring some of the cooler water until the temperature was just right. Then, with a grateful sigh, he slipped into the steaming bath and soaked. Only when he noticed that the sun was now nearly at noon did he climb out, opening the other sluice gate to let the water run out while he dried himself off and got dressed. Then he made his way back to camp, thinking about who Lord Manwë would send to him. He tried to imagine which of the Maiar he knew would be sent and what they might teach him. Thus he was pleasantly surprised to see who was sitting by the fire with the other Maiar.

"Olórin! I thought you were still with Lord Námo."

The Maia rose and gave Glorfindel a warm hug. "I have been released on my own recognisance," he said with a laugh.

Glorfindel gave him a jaundiced look. "I’m sure there’s more to that than you’re telling, but I’ll let it go for now. Are you the one Lord Manwë meant when he said he would send me another teacher?"

The Maia nodded, the twinkle in his eyes very evident. "Indeed and I was quite happy to comply with my lord’s wishes."

"So, what are you here to teach me?" Glorfindel asked as he accepted some tea from Tiutalion, joining the others around the fire.

Olórin gave him a considering look. "Are you up for another trip? I hear you had something of an accident yesterday."

"I’m fine," Glorfindel said dismissively. "Where are we going?"

Instead of answering, Olórin looked at his fellow Maiar. "He woke in terror during the night," Nyéreser answered. "He found it difficult to go back to sleep."

"It was just a nightmare," Glorfindel protested. "Nothing important."

"Do you remember what the nightmare was about?" Olórin asked, frowning.

"Just a feeling of being trapped," Glorfindel answered. "Not unexpected, given what happened earlier." He was not going to tell them about the balrog that figured prominently in the dream. It wasn’t the first time he had dreamt about his fight with the balrog, though this time there had been the added element of being trapped by a tree while fighting it. It simply made the dream that much worse, but he didn’t think it meant anything and didn’t want the Maiar fussing over him.

"No. Not unexpected at all," the Maia said with a nod. If Olórin thought he was not being as forthcoming as he should be, he gave no sign. "As to your question, we will head for the mountains."

"That’s at least a two-day trek," Glorfindel said with a frown. "Lord Manwë assured me that I could continue my swordfighting lessons next week."

"We’ll be back in plenty of time, never fear," Olórin said with a smile.

"So why must we go to the mountains for this lesson? Why can you not teach me here?"

"Some lessons are best taught when in unfamiliar territory," Olórin said. "This glade is too familiar to you now."

"I suppose," Glorfindel said reluctantly, then gave the Maia a shrewd look. "You haven’t said just what the lesson will be about."

Olórin smiled. "It’s a surprise."

"I hate surprises," Glorfindel retorted.

"I know," the Maia said, grinning even more broadly. The other Maiar chuckled at the sour expression on Glorfindel’s face. "We’ll leave first thing in the morning," Olòrin continued, ignoring the ellon’s darkening expression.

"I hate surprises," Glorfindel reiterated with a glower, not willing to let it go.

Olórin sighed and gave him a gentle smile. "I assure you, Glorfindel, it’s not what you think. Telling you about the lesson will not enlighten you. It’s best to show you what you will be learning. Can you trust me that much, child?"

Glorfindel stared at the Maia, gauging his sincerity and finally nodded. "For now," he said, not ready to give in completely.

"That is all I ask," Olórin said.

"Well, now that that’s settled," Lisselindë said briskly, "how about some lunch?"

Glorfindel sighed, realizing that he was outnumbered once again and nodded. His mood did not darken but neither was it as lighthearted as it had been earlier and for the rest of the day he was subdued, retiring earlier than usual. When he woke sometime in the night, crying out in another nightmare, they debated as to whether he and Olòrin should leave in the morning but in the end it was decided to stick to the original plan.

"A change of scenery might be good for him," Olòrin said, though he did not sound entirely convinced.

"We can only hope," Tiutalion replied with a sigh as they watched the ellon drift off into uneasy sleep once again.

****

Ósanwë: Thought-sending, telepathy.