Calimir's sleep had been troubled, despite the soft bed and the warm inn, Enien's words of the night before making him think hard about his home and family. You are brother enough for me, she had told him. Poor Enien, he must be gentler with her, he always forgot how hard the loss of her brother was to her.
When he finally slept his dreams were strange and unwelcome. Dreams of Wilwarin, his daughter, remaining here, Wilwarin riding alone over hard lands to meet a love he didn't understand. A face he couldn't quite recognize. A grey ship, crossing a wide ocean-- Wilwarin waving from the shore. Glorenwen cried softly beside him. He awoke slowly to the sound of Enien pounding on his door and chattering away in rapid Sindarin.
Sighing, Calimir rose from the bed and dressed quickly, following Enien down to the table where everyone else was ordering breakfast. She was cheerful and full of plans for a mornin in the town. Calimir smiled. It was good to see her feeling so much better. He ate lightly, and was more than ready to be gone when Rangar called them together in the front of the inn.
Swinging up onto his horse, Calimir fell in at the back of the company, riding beside Enien as he usually did. They made good time in the direction of Rohan, and a stiff breeze blew across their faces as they rode. Enien and Calimir talked little, but the elf was content. This was what he'd left Rivendell for, the wide sky and the rolling hills and the silent companionship of the group. He breathed deeply, enjoying the ride, and regretting that it couldn't last.
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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