Ealendil paces back and forth, restlessly back and forth in the small chamber of her house, on the second floor where she usually works with her music. Notes are everywhere in apparent disorder, some on the floor, some scattered across a small table. The packing is done, and she impatiently awaits the day they will be going east, east to Lothólorien. However, it is not the waiting that makes restless. A few days ago, Filegris had sung, or at least clapped with her hands, the rhythm of the song the dwarf Jarpr had sung.
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