Danel

And that is why I became a cook. It gave me the chance to never be far from Carnifinde, yet to be someone who could pass her by unnoticed. It was vastly different from the life of the Huntress I had been, but I came to find I enjoyed the preparations, the choice for meals, the learning of which herbs and spices brought out the best in any meal. I enjoyed seeing people happy. Mirima was the chief cook at that time. She was one who sailed over in the ships, one from Aman.

It was not that the mine was empty. It only appeared that way because the sentinels had spotted four trespassing elves, and they were debating what they should do about it. The most fearsome denizens of Moria were, at that moment, deep down in the lower tunnels, and the Enemy's attention was far away, occupied with weightier matters than the long-abandoned underground kingdom of the Dwarves.

The late afternoon of the fourth day saw me ride into Celondim. I wanted to pick up a few resources from my house, and speak with the stone mason. As fortune would have it, a patrol was just passing Numenstaya and I joined them. Lelyaro has been to visit Barahirn, and spoke encouragingly to him. He was not to be concerned about the horses; there was someone on their way to act as temporary stable hand. The job would still be his if and when he wanted it.

It was the afternoon of the fourth day when the first of our visitors arrived.

“So what do you think? Be honest, sister.” Losshell shook me from my daydream with her insistence.

“Hmm…”

“If it is true that a Valarauko yet haunts this place, if we come across it, there will be no escape,” he said.

His eyes, growing accustomed to the dimness, discerned strange carvings on the walls, and he saw now that the floor was an intricate inlay of stone and a metal that gleamed bright - copper, he guessed wrongly. Parnard felt his mood in harmony with the dark surroundings, and as the elves crept along the hallway like four burglars, his thoughts shifted away from his failed betrothal to more immediate matters.

We continued, Estarfin doubtlessly thinking of what could await us in the Halls of Moria…as indeed was I. Parnard was likely thinking of dark tales he had heard of Moria, without any clear idea of what it was really like, and Marawendi unable to differentiate one danger from another. But at least we were leaving Mirkwood.