Liornung waited, and wished he could sing. But the mist was too heavy.
He waited, and watched, especially the two elves. They felt so cold. WHy he could feel it he did not know; he had felt Erebemlin's fire, a little; now he felt their ice.
Yet it was not quite despair. Not quite. Erebemlin and Taitheneb stood locked in thought, lingering, wondering, missing the mountain elf; missing their golden king. Erebemlin missed Nimrodel, too; and even the blacksmith, a little.
In his mind's eye, Liornung saw a lady in green, with golden hair, by the riverside. Yet when he turned to the bank, there was no one.
Behind him, Taitheneb stirred, and looked toward the same spot on the bank.
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