The dark elf was in deep thought once more. He had been puzzled at Anarya's finding of the silver coin. Perhaps it was a currency that the mortals were being paid in. After all a silver coin was a silver coin, and gold was still gold in whatever emblem it had.
Rûdhchamion was sitting under an old oak while the young elf maiden was not far off, keeping an eye on the direction of the mortals. The men moved in a slow leisurely matter, he thought. As if waiting to be joined by others, perhaps to meet them. It took all his training to fight down impatience and frustration. He wanted to go after Micanar and his companions more than once, and end their miserable lives. But he would break oath with the Elvenking, and lose the chance to find the real ones responsible for the death of his kin.
Besides, he thought, he wanted to know why it had all happened. Why all the killing again? Hadn't the Last Alliance defeat the Dark Lord?
He gazed at Anarya's direction and smiled. He felt lighter these days. Even with this "mission" he had found himself in. The dark elf felt his burden lighten and he began to sing softly...
"Where is the Eryn Galen, once renown,
Under oak and beech gentle beasts could roam
And among the branches birds of bright song.
Is this the Greenwood where once I wandered?
Thy proud elms, how well I still remember,
And one could hear elven songs and laughter."
Rûdhchamion stopped as he realized it had been a long while since he had sung beneath the trees of Greenwood. Turning he saw the young elf maid smile.
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