You can never have too many elves....

[forwandered]

He's smaller than most elves, small and frail, looking as if one strong breeze might bowl him over entirely. His clothes are little more than rags and he has no possessions but a crude knife on his belt and a small blue lamp carried carefully in his right hand. A collection of rotting rags cover the stump where his left hand should be, crusted over

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[lorien_gal]

When she sees him on her morning walk, Galadriel only sits by the sleeping form, keeping watch, quietly.

She smiles, because the dreams are beautiful and there is peace here, even if it may not last.

Indeed. Never too many Elves. And invasions /will/ happen. Finweans are notorious for their Elfdar. *nod nod*

[forwandered]

He smiles in his sleep, his dreams more restful than they have been in months and the smile remains when he wakes, a rarity. Normally he wakes shouting and fighting. The change is definitely welcome even if he doesn't know what to make of the lady sitting next to him.

[lorien_gal]

She gives him a very slight, mysterious smile. She murmurs quietly, almost a Sindarin song. "Be soothed, now, darkness will no longer seek you." She is quietly gentle, she does not move to be closer, only giving what calm she can.

[forwandered]

"Who are you, Lady?" He is calm for now, although terribly curious. She is the first woman he has heard speaking Sindarin in a very long time and for half a moment he almost thinks she might be his Finduilas, not knowing of course that she is his betrothed's aunt. She is just a little familiar though in a far off sort of way.

[arid_white_lady]

There's a tender young elf - Gwindor has never met her, for she died well before his time. She sits on the porch, knitting. Should he awake, he will find her there, singing softly to herself.

[forwandered]

He does wake eventually and once he does he merely watches her warily for the time being. It may all be some sort of trick meant to lure him back.

[arid_white_lady]

It definitely isn't, and Aredhel eventually looks up from her work, giving him a small smile. "Is there aught that you need?"

The hair cut is strange. Very strange. It bothers her - like the memory of something else.

[forwandered]

Asking someone you've never met Are you an illusion of the Enemy? probably isn't very polite so he remains silent for now, still watching her, his remaining hand clutching his lamp tightly.

[elven_irs]

Here's someone who is also quite dead to Gwindor, if he ever heard of him. Caranthir the dark is ruminating to himself, not joyfully but calmly, at any rate.

He won't mind being disturbed if eventually the little Sindarin elf wakes up - we don't quite guarantee that this will be pleasant, though.

[forwandered]

Oh, Gwindor remembers him though. After all, he was the one to lead the fighting at Nírnaeth Arnoediad for all that he no longer looks the brash, young elf prince after his captivity. He remembers the sons of Feanor very well, even if he spent most of his time around them trying to get out of the way.

And when he wakes up he will jump back a little and stare as if he has seen a ghost.

[elven_irs]

"Yeah, I get that a lot," is Caranthir's nonchalant reply. "Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything to you. Been there, done that, got the scars. I'm done with that kind of crap."

Here's one blasé Feänorian for you. "You look like you just got put through the grinder."

[forwandered]

"I... I've escaped from Angband." He has the urge to add something a bit smart ass-y to the end of that statement, but he really can't think of anything appropriate and/or smart and doesn't. "Where is Túrin?"

[thenotsofair]

Celegorm comes stalking outside some point shortly after the newcomer falls asleep and then stops, abruptly, and blinks. Hesitating to wake this one, because 1) if he's sleeping outside in this weather he probably needs it and 2) he's all too aware of how conspicuous he is, both in terms of coloring and height. Not to mention that he has Feanor's sign right there on his cloak.

So just...standing still, one hand near the sword but not taking it. Just wary. One never knows, especially as he doesn't think this one is Noldoran and Sindarin elves have never been very fond of him.

[forwandered]

If there was a list of people Gwindor never expected to see again Celegorm might just top the list. He was there for the whole Luthien and Beren fiasco, even if he wasn't particularly noticeable. Just another prince from one of the less influential houses, perpetually in his older brother's shadow.

Fourteen years without seeing the other elf's face doesn't make it any less recognizable and he blinks when he sees him, caught somewhere between confusion and a scowl. Grudges aren't going to be forgotten that quickly after all.

[thenotsofair]

Oh, well, great. He recognizes that look and sighs, just slightly. "I'm afraid I don't remember you," Kind of dryly. Since it's clear the other way around is unluckily true.

[forwandered]

"I don't think you would. I'm just an escaped thrall. One of Morgoth's playthings that managed to slip away." That's not going to jog any memories though and he ends up giving his actual name. If nothing else Celegorm may remember the boy's suicidal and briefly successful storming of Angbad when he saw his brother killed. "Gwindor son of Guilin."

[valiantfinwe]

Here's someone he might know only as a legend if he knows at all! Nonetheless, one-time High King of the Noldor is taking a walk, as it's the best way to get any thinking done when you're surrounded by loud cousins. And comes upon Gwindor, frowning and half lifting a hand to wake him and invite him inside.

[forwandered]

Gwindor's not from quite as late as everyone seems to think he is and he definitely remembers Fingon. He went and led his own small band from Nargothrond to fight for him at the Dagor Nírnaeth Arnoediad after all since they would not fight for the sons of Feanor.

He scrambles into wakefulness and bows a little shakily and not very graceful, but it's hard to try to go back to the way he once was. "My lord."

[valiantfinwe]

Typist sincerely apologizes for failing at timelines. A lot.

Fingon, however, seems a little gratified and inclines his head ever so slightly. "Good day."

[forwandered]

"I..." He pauses, not sure what he's supposed to say now. How did the battle go? Sorry I left early, but, you know, being captured does that. Somehow he can tell that's just not going to cut it. "Where am I?"