[Child of the 7th Age]

After Loremaster had said his farewells to the Elf, he turned his attention towards the women. Even with the warm summer months, the long trip up the river had left its mark on the party. Water dripped steadily from their long skirts, leaving good-sized puddles on the floor. But, this time, Loremaster had remembered to come prepared with blankets and hot drinks. Azra shuddered in the cool, dank air of the underground caverns and eagerly grasped the steaming brew. Nitir sat picking seaweed out of her brown curls, clutching the blanket about her shoulders. Every now and then, she lifted up the mug to drink and warm her chilled fingers.

Once the women were comfortable, Loremaster went over to Mithadan and explained, “We’ll wait just a bit to enter. They’re going over the details for weapons, escape routes, and who’ll be in charge of each section of the cave. I ‘m afraid, if we go in now, all that will get lost or rushed in their curiosity to meet the three of you.”

Mithadan nodded in understanding. He wandered off on his own, reading the inscriptions on the crumbling, grey stones. This section seemed to be much older that what Piosenniel had described to him on her last visit. These graves had a stark simplicity, a dignity and an acceptance of death, which was missing from the more ornate sarcophagi he’d passed on the way into the tombs. Many of them showed names in both Elvish and Adunaic, a mute witness to the friendship of Elves and Men which had lain at the heart of Numenor. He roamed on from grave to grave, noting the chiseled images and dates, overcome by an overwhelming sense of sadness. So much goodness, so much might, all passed away.

Nitir watched him go, but said nothing. He seemed to need the time alone. No wonder, after what he’d had to do that afternoon. She expected he'd return shortly.

Helen’s post

The two women sat waiting, when Phura slipped into the chamber, half mumbling apologies, but going around Loremaster until he stood by Azra and Nitir. They turned to face him, smiling.

He stood, eyes searching their faces. “Hello,” Azra said, and tears started in Phura’s eyes.

“Hello,” he replied, and began to tremble. He gently took Azra’s hands, and kissed them. She smiled. He shook his head. “At last. I can’t believe it. I-- ... Azra, welcome. I’m so glad you’ve come. So very glad.” He swiped the tears from his face, and steeled himself, and turned to Nitir.

She caught his hands, face glowing, and he studied her; he started to kneel at her feet, but she gave an indignant snort. “None of that…” Pulling him upright, and embraced him. Again, he mastered his emotions, and stopped his shaking, and managed to choke out, “Thank you so much for coming. Welcome. At last, at last.”
Loremaster told them it was now time to go in. As they entered, Nitir firmly drew Phura to stand beside her, and his eyes kept straying to them as the meeting continued.

[ October 23, 2002: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]