[Nilpaurion Felagund]

She finally found Erenor, who had just finished talking to a Dúnadan youth. It was the one had joined in the mission to rescue them from the Orcs. He looked at the boy, who was even now putting on a sheath around his waist. Even the youth we arm now? she thought. What is Middle-earth coming to? She approached the lad.

“I have not thanked you yet . . .” she stopped, having forgotten his name.

“Faerim, m’lady.” He grinned, then bowed. He still had the gangling awkwardness of a teenager. And yet he volunteered to join war-hardened Elves into an Orc camp. Perhaps, like any young man, he thought himself to be untouchable by death.

“How old are you, Faerim?” the emissary asked. The lad stared down, and he began to scratch the ground with his foot. He seemed uneasy at the question.