In the Winter Garden, Chapter Three.
Chapter Three of In the Winter Garden.
Word count; 2,500
Usual disclaimer as at chapter one.
Chapter Three
Haldirin was too young to speak the Common Tongue. Had Faramir been at home he would have understood the elfling’s chatter, and wondered at any mention of another elfling in the environs of the manor, but Éowyn, fluent in Rohirric and the Common Tongue, had found it harder to learn Sindarin. She knew some of the courtly phrases used in Minas Tirith, and some basic friendly phrases to use when she visited Eryn Ithil, but much of Haldirin’s conversation with his parents passed her by.
This made it much simpler for Rumil and Tindómë to take time to consider the implications of Haldirin’s shadowy small friend.
“Were there elves in Ithilien before we came?” Tindómë wondered.
“I know not. Not in my life-time, meleth, but perhaps before. Maybe this is the fëa of an elfling that became one of the Houseless a long time ago.”
Tindómë recognised the concept of ‘Houseless’ elves. When something happened to kill an elf the usual thing was for the spirit, the fëa, to go to Mandos’ Halls. (She had no idea where this might be - it seemed to be a bit like going to heaven, but then it might be a pocket dimension, or an actual, really big, building in Valinor - none of the elves she had asked seemed too sure…)
But sometimes, especially it seemed in the case of wood elves, the fëa stayed in Middle Earth without the hroar; choosing to remain near the family and places the elf loved. These fëa were known as Houseless - in effect, ghost elves. Some elves thought that this always happened to those who ‘faded’ - but then others thought they, too went to Mandos’ Halls; Tindómë guessed they might find out, eventually, in Valinor.
She answered Rumil. “I guess Legolas might know if there were elves here before. Or Lord Celeborn - maybe we could send him a message. Faramir might know. But if he thought there was a ghost in the Winter Garden he might be upset.”
“It would be interesting to know where the ‘Winter Elfling’ came from - but I think I would want to know, more, why Haldirin can see him,” Rumil said.
“Uh - because Haldirin’s an elf too?”
“I do not think it is that simple, meleth. If he was easily visible to elves not only would I have seen him clearly, but Legolas would have also seen him - he has spent much time in these gardens, after all.”
“Point. Maybe it is because Haldirin is young? Young and an elf, because I’m sure Éowyn would have said something about her own children either liking the Winter Garden or, maybe, being frightened to go there.”
“You are probably right, meleth…”
“Probably? Only probably?”
“I would be interested to know if you see winter if you go into the Winter Garden without a mortal accompanying you. Or if you see it when Haldirin is there, but not when you are on your own. Perhaps there are household tasks Éowyn is neglecting, whilst she is a good hostess to you, that she might wish to get back to… or perhaps it would be a good idea for her to go out for a gallop tomorrow…”
It was not difficult, the next morning, for Rumil to persuade Éowyn to come out for a gallop, nor for Tindómë to convince her hostess that she would rather stay with Haldirin.
The faithful Rohirric warriors Éomer had sent with Éowyn, when she had married Faramir, were still part of the household. Both were married now, Egric to a local woman, Céolfrith to a woman from Edoras courted during Éowyn’s visits to Rohan. Still, just as they had on the hot trod to find Tindómë when she was captured by pirates, they always rode out with their lady.
Rumil would enjoy the gallop, mounted as he was on the Rohirric mare given them eighteen months before by Álith’s husband; a perfect match for the mounts of the other three.
After Tindómë and Haldirin had waved the others off from the stables they went to give carrots to both Tindómë’s mare, Hirilaer, and the small pony, outgrown by Éowyn’s children, that Haldirin was almost big enough to ride. When the horses had been suitably fussed Tindómë took Haldirin back to the courtyard where the bitch and pups awaited them.
“It is very hot, gwinig-nín, and I think I would like to come into the Winter Garden with you. As Lady Éowyn is not with us to warm the garden, it should be cold… and perhaps your friend will be there.”
“M’kay.” It seemed Haldirin thought it a perfectly sensible suggestion, anyway. “Do you think the nana will mind if I take one of the puppies to show my friend?”
The puppies were six weeks old now - perhaps the bitch wouldn’t mind.
“We can try, but if she is upset you must bring the puppy back to her.”
“M’kay. Come on Nana…”
She was positively pulled to the box of puppies, Haldirin’s favourite lifted out, and they were heading towards the gate. The bitch looked at them, but seemed happy enough.
‘Good,’ Tindómë thought, ‘surely even a Houseless elfling would be tempted by a puppy. Now to find out whether I am able to see him.’
As she approached the gate to the Winter Garden she could see the sun glinting on the water of the fountain and on the leaves of the evergreen trees on the other side. She opened the gate and Haldirin, clutching the puppy, stepped inside. Haldirin paused, looked around and smiled at her.
“Much cooler, Nana!”
From her place on the threshold everything looked warm and sunny; but then she stepped through and closed the metal gate behind her… and everything changed. She did not need to look sideways to catch winter out - it was shouting at her from all around. It was breathtakingly beautiful - if cold!
The winter pansies and wallflowers were still not in bloom, but their leaves were edged in frost, and the water in the fountain had fallen silent, frozen like glass lava, while the pool beneath it was now a sheet of glass. There was no snow but it was, very clearly, winter.
Haldirin put the puppy onto the path and it looked around and shivered.
“I think he is surprised by the cold, little one, you’d best pick him up and cuddle him again,” Tindómë said, trying to act as if walking into winter like this was totally normal.
Her inner Dawn wanted to look for the lamp-post, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if Mr. Tumnus had suddenly appeared around the corner…
She sat on one of the, rather cold, stone benches and waited to see what actually would happen next.
Haldirin called out, “Hello! Hello! I am here, with a puppy… and Nana.”
Tindómë wondered, as he waited, if her presence would be off-putting for the mysterious Winter Elfling. At first it seemed as if it might well have been.
Haldirin picked up a piece of wood, slid it across the frozen pool, and then went to the other side and, puppy still clutched to his chest, slid it back again. Just as he walked around to repeat the process, Tindómë heard a sound… it was a giggle.
A small figure appeared, from somewhere behind her, eyes fixed on Haldirin. It seemed to be an elfling who was only a little older than Haldirin; an inch or two taller, and his face had a little less of the baby roundness still clearly visible in Haldirin’s. He had dark brown hair, loose and looking as if it needed a good brushing - not something that was usual in an elf of any age. He wore a tattered tunic and leggings of an indeterminate colour - he looked for all the world like a small elven hobo.
He held his hands out towards the puppy and Haldirin passed the small, brown and squirming, bundle over. The other elfling held the puppy carefully - a smile slowly spreading until it seemed to fill his entire face.
“Weird,” Tindómë thought, “surely a Houseless elfling shouldn’t be able to hold a solid object…”
Sitting on the seat Tindómë began to wish she’d brought a cloak or a shawl out with her - although it might have looked odd to the household staff. Maybe an hour after they arrived in the Winter Garden Haldirin, in the way of small children, was suddenly tired. He came over to his mother, holding the puppy, and climbed onto her knee.
“Cuddle, Nana…”
She held him close, and then realised that the other elfling was gazing longingly at them. Almost without thinking about it, she held her other arm out for him and he slowly approached.
He came and sat hesitantly beside Tindómë, but then burrowed his head into her side and she could hear a small voice say “Cuddle…?”
He felt cold to touch. She tried to think logically. He was obviously not scared of her - she would try to ask him questions whilst he was cuddling.
“What is your name, little one?”
“Don’t know…” the little voice was so sad.
“Where are your Nana and Ada?”
He held her even closer, “Nana… Nana…”
The little voice broke and all that could be heard were snuffles. Haldirin moved a little, put his arms around the other elfling too, and all three sat together for a time.
Whoever, or whatever, this little figure was he seemed to be no threat to Haldirin and, as he curled against her, an overwhelming sense of sadness filled Tindómë.
The puppy began to whimper; it probably wanted to suckle. Tindómë turned her attention to her son and the pup, explaining that they needed to take the puppy back to its mother, and then she realised that there was no longer another little body pressed against hers; the other elfling had simply… gone.
Haldirin looked across at the space and said, “Bye…” before getting down himself.
As they approached the gate back to the courtyard Tindómë realised that beyond the gate seemed ‘out of focus’ - as if it wasn’t completely real. But, as soon as she opened the gate the courtyard was just as they had left it, the mother dog on a blanket, the other pups near her, and the sounds of everyday life just as they always were.
She would have to think about it all.
………………………………………….
Rumil spoke gently to Annarîn as he brushed her in the stable. Beside him Éowyn was caring for her own horse; further along Egric and Céolfrith were engaged in the same task. Neither Elves nor Rohirrim would expect anyone else to care for their horse if they were capable of doing it themselves.
It had been a good ride out - they had ridden for many miles, allowing the horses their heads and letting them gallop for long stretches. Annarîn was, indeed, a perfect match for the mounts of the others and her blood-line had been a matter of discussion. An elven horse might have been faster, or had more stamina, but it would have been a close run thing; Annarîn was acknowledged by the three Rohirrim to be a very, very, fine horse.
Now that her foal was a yearling Rumil and Orophin were planning to breed her with an elven stallion; Éowyn and the Riders had happily discussed, when they had stopped for refreshments, exactly what traits they would look for in a prospective match,. It was always easier, Rumil thought, to talk about horses to Éowyn than about anything else.
He was relieved that he would not have to make any other polite conversation in the Common Tongue as he felt the familiar sensation of his wife and son approaching. He wondered what had happened in the Winter Garden; Tindómë would tell him soon enough…
Haldirin had a basket with some of last autumn’s apples, for the horses, and Rumil happily took charge of the elfling whilst Tindómë went to speak to Éowyn. Egric, Céolfrith, and the stable hands were content to allow Haldirin to stroke horses, offer apples, and help brush; whilst saying little.
Used, now, to the awareness of his wife’s emotion whenever she was near, Rumil paused to consider what she was feeling. Thoughtful, amused, slightly frustrated… the last was probably because she wanted a chance to talk to him. He focussed on her conversation; Haldirin was happily learning the Common Tongue (and, possibly, the Rohirric) words for apple, horse, saddle and so on from Egric.
Ah - Éowyn was apologising because she would need to bathe before she could spend any more time with Tindómë… good.
“Rumil will need to bathe too. I will talk with him as he does and he can tell me about your day.”
Éowyn looked slightly taken aback by Tindómë’s words. Surely, Rumil thought, she must either join Faramir to bathe or at least wash his hair for him? Éowyn spoke again, and he listened to Tindómë’s reply.
“Haldirin will bathe with his father - he smells rather much of dogs, and now he’s added horse. He seems to have rather a lot of horse spit in his hair…”
Éowyn’s eyebrows lifted.
Did her children not bathe with her or Faramir? He must ask Tindómë some time, Rumil decided, but not before he had asked her about the Winter Garden.
Rumil would have preferred to bathe in the river but knew this disconcerted the mortals; he would settle for the tub in their rooms, and privacy to talk to Tindómë.
Soon he was in the large tub of water; Haldirin at the other end floating pine cones and splashing.
Tindómë knelt on the floor behind Rumil and slowly massaged the cherry-bark and burdock oil into his scalp before combing it down the length of his hair. Were they totally alone, or starlight bathing, this would have been sensuous, but now it was simply pleasurable… and allowed her to open her mind to him so that he could see what she had seen, feel what she had felt, in the Winter Garden.
He was slightly jealous, honestly, that she had seen, and felt, the presence of winter and elfling both more clearly than he had - even though he had suspected that she might do, despite being not-quite-an-elf. As he had not tried to keep that thought away from her he decided it was probably better to share it than for her to just notice it and… ouch! Her fingers on his scalp had suddenly been just a little too firm for comfort… she had probably caught a wisp of that thought already, then…
He shared the thought purposely; in a self-deprecating mental tone.
He felt her considering - and smiling, but only briefly.
She ‘spoke’ from her mind to his, via the bond, rather than just sharing what she had seen and felt.
“I have… a couple of ideas about what I saw - and why I saw it. I think something else is at play, as well as just being edhel… or edhelfaral! I need to get my thoughts a little straighter before I share them with you. But there is, most certainly, something odd going on in the Winter Garden. We will talk later, melethron-nín.”
…………………………………………………………………………………….
Fëa - spirit
Hroar - body; but Elves see themselves as about 75% fëa, 25% hroar…
gwinig-nín - my baby
Annarîn - remembrance gift - the name Orophin and Rumil gave to the mare gifted them in Rohan in The Winter Tale.
edhel - elven
edhelfaral - not quite elven.
Melethron-nín - my love.
…………………………………………………………………………………….
Chapter Four is here.
Word count; 2,500
Usual disclaimer as at chapter one.
Chapter Three
Haldirin was too young to speak the Common Tongue. Had Faramir been at home he would have understood the elfling’s chatter, and wondered at any mention of another elfling in the environs of the manor, but Éowyn, fluent in Rohirric and the Common Tongue, had found it harder to learn Sindarin. She knew some of the courtly phrases used in Minas Tirith, and some basic friendly phrases to use when she visited Eryn Ithil, but much of Haldirin’s conversation with his parents passed her by.
This made it much simpler for Rumil and Tindómë to take time to consider the implications of Haldirin’s shadowy small friend.
“Were there elves in Ithilien before we came?” Tindómë wondered.
“I know not. Not in my life-time, meleth, but perhaps before. Maybe this is the fëa of an elfling that became one of the Houseless a long time ago.”
Tindómë recognised the concept of ‘Houseless’ elves. When something happened to kill an elf the usual thing was for the spirit, the fëa, to go to Mandos’ Halls. (She had no idea where this might be - it seemed to be a bit like going to heaven, but then it might be a pocket dimension, or an actual, really big, building in Valinor - none of the elves she had asked seemed too sure…)
But sometimes, especially it seemed in the case of wood elves, the fëa stayed in Middle Earth without the hroar; choosing to remain near the family and places the elf loved. These fëa were known as Houseless - in effect, ghost elves. Some elves thought that this always happened to those who ‘faded’ - but then others thought they, too went to Mandos’ Halls; Tindómë guessed they might find out, eventually, in Valinor.
She answered Rumil. “I guess Legolas might know if there were elves here before. Or Lord Celeborn - maybe we could send him a message. Faramir might know. But if he thought there was a ghost in the Winter Garden he might be upset.”
“It would be interesting to know where the ‘Winter Elfling’ came from - but I think I would want to know, more, why Haldirin can see him,” Rumil said.
“Uh - because Haldirin’s an elf too?”
“I do not think it is that simple, meleth. If he was easily visible to elves not only would I have seen him clearly, but Legolas would have also seen him - he has spent much time in these gardens, after all.”
“Point. Maybe it is because Haldirin is young? Young and an elf, because I’m sure Éowyn would have said something about her own children either liking the Winter Garden or, maybe, being frightened to go there.”
“You are probably right, meleth…”
“Probably? Only probably?”
“I would be interested to know if you see winter if you go into the Winter Garden without a mortal accompanying you. Or if you see it when Haldirin is there, but not when you are on your own. Perhaps there are household tasks Éowyn is neglecting, whilst she is a good hostess to you, that she might wish to get back to… or perhaps it would be a good idea for her to go out for a gallop tomorrow…”
It was not difficult, the next morning, for Rumil to persuade Éowyn to come out for a gallop, nor for Tindómë to convince her hostess that she would rather stay with Haldirin.
The faithful Rohirric warriors Éomer had sent with Éowyn, when she had married Faramir, were still part of the household. Both were married now, Egric to a local woman, Céolfrith to a woman from Edoras courted during Éowyn’s visits to Rohan. Still, just as they had on the hot trod to find Tindómë when she was captured by pirates, they always rode out with their lady.
Rumil would enjoy the gallop, mounted as he was on the Rohirric mare given them eighteen months before by Álith’s husband; a perfect match for the mounts of the other three.
After Tindómë and Haldirin had waved the others off from the stables they went to give carrots to both Tindómë’s mare, Hirilaer, and the small pony, outgrown by Éowyn’s children, that Haldirin was almost big enough to ride. When the horses had been suitably fussed Tindómë took Haldirin back to the courtyard where the bitch and pups awaited them.
“It is very hot, gwinig-nín, and I think I would like to come into the Winter Garden with you. As Lady Éowyn is not with us to warm the garden, it should be cold… and perhaps your friend will be there.”
“M’kay.” It seemed Haldirin thought it a perfectly sensible suggestion, anyway. “Do you think the nana will mind if I take one of the puppies to show my friend?”
The puppies were six weeks old now - perhaps the bitch wouldn’t mind.
“We can try, but if she is upset you must bring the puppy back to her.”
“M’kay. Come on Nana…”
She was positively pulled to the box of puppies, Haldirin’s favourite lifted out, and they were heading towards the gate. The bitch looked at them, but seemed happy enough.
‘Good,’ Tindómë thought, ‘surely even a Houseless elfling would be tempted by a puppy. Now to find out whether I am able to see him.’
As she approached the gate to the Winter Garden she could see the sun glinting on the water of the fountain and on the leaves of the evergreen trees on the other side. She opened the gate and Haldirin, clutching the puppy, stepped inside. Haldirin paused, looked around and smiled at her.
“Much cooler, Nana!”
From her place on the threshold everything looked warm and sunny; but then she stepped through and closed the metal gate behind her… and everything changed. She did not need to look sideways to catch winter out - it was shouting at her from all around. It was breathtakingly beautiful - if cold!
The winter pansies and wallflowers were still not in bloom, but their leaves were edged in frost, and the water in the fountain had fallen silent, frozen like glass lava, while the pool beneath it was now a sheet of glass. There was no snow but it was, very clearly, winter.
Haldirin put the puppy onto the path and it looked around and shivered.
“I think he is surprised by the cold, little one, you’d best pick him up and cuddle him again,” Tindómë said, trying to act as if walking into winter like this was totally normal.
Her inner Dawn wanted to look for the lamp-post, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if Mr. Tumnus had suddenly appeared around the corner…
She sat on one of the, rather cold, stone benches and waited to see what actually would happen next.
Haldirin called out, “Hello! Hello! I am here, with a puppy… and Nana.”
Tindómë wondered, as he waited, if her presence would be off-putting for the mysterious Winter Elfling. At first it seemed as if it might well have been.
Haldirin picked up a piece of wood, slid it across the frozen pool, and then went to the other side and, puppy still clutched to his chest, slid it back again. Just as he walked around to repeat the process, Tindómë heard a sound… it was a giggle.
A small figure appeared, from somewhere behind her, eyes fixed on Haldirin. It seemed to be an elfling who was only a little older than Haldirin; an inch or two taller, and his face had a little less of the baby roundness still clearly visible in Haldirin’s. He had dark brown hair, loose and looking as if it needed a good brushing - not something that was usual in an elf of any age. He wore a tattered tunic and leggings of an indeterminate colour - he looked for all the world like a small elven hobo.
He held his hands out towards the puppy and Haldirin passed the small, brown and squirming, bundle over. The other elfling held the puppy carefully - a smile slowly spreading until it seemed to fill his entire face.
“Weird,” Tindómë thought, “surely a Houseless elfling shouldn’t be able to hold a solid object…”
Sitting on the seat Tindómë began to wish she’d brought a cloak or a shawl out with her - although it might have looked odd to the household staff. Maybe an hour after they arrived in the Winter Garden Haldirin, in the way of small children, was suddenly tired. He came over to his mother, holding the puppy, and climbed onto her knee.
“Cuddle, Nana…”
She held him close, and then realised that the other elfling was gazing longingly at them. Almost without thinking about it, she held her other arm out for him and he slowly approached.
He came and sat hesitantly beside Tindómë, but then burrowed his head into her side and she could hear a small voice say “Cuddle…?”
He felt cold to touch. She tried to think logically. He was obviously not scared of her - she would try to ask him questions whilst he was cuddling.
“What is your name, little one?”
“Don’t know…” the little voice was so sad.
“Where are your Nana and Ada?”
He held her even closer, “Nana… Nana…”
The little voice broke and all that could be heard were snuffles. Haldirin moved a little, put his arms around the other elfling too, and all three sat together for a time.
Whoever, or whatever, this little figure was he seemed to be no threat to Haldirin and, as he curled against her, an overwhelming sense of sadness filled Tindómë.
The puppy began to whimper; it probably wanted to suckle. Tindómë turned her attention to her son and the pup, explaining that they needed to take the puppy back to its mother, and then she realised that there was no longer another little body pressed against hers; the other elfling had simply… gone.
Haldirin looked across at the space and said, “Bye…” before getting down himself.
As they approached the gate back to the courtyard Tindómë realised that beyond the gate seemed ‘out of focus’ - as if it wasn’t completely real. But, as soon as she opened the gate the courtyard was just as they had left it, the mother dog on a blanket, the other pups near her, and the sounds of everyday life just as they always were.
She would have to think about it all.
………………………………………….
Rumil spoke gently to Annarîn as he brushed her in the stable. Beside him Éowyn was caring for her own horse; further along Egric and Céolfrith were engaged in the same task. Neither Elves nor Rohirrim would expect anyone else to care for their horse if they were capable of doing it themselves.
It had been a good ride out - they had ridden for many miles, allowing the horses their heads and letting them gallop for long stretches. Annarîn was, indeed, a perfect match for the mounts of the others and her blood-line had been a matter of discussion. An elven horse might have been faster, or had more stamina, but it would have been a close run thing; Annarîn was acknowledged by the three Rohirrim to be a very, very, fine horse.
Now that her foal was a yearling Rumil and Orophin were planning to breed her with an elven stallion; Éowyn and the Riders had happily discussed, when they had stopped for refreshments, exactly what traits they would look for in a prospective match,. It was always easier, Rumil thought, to talk about horses to Éowyn than about anything else.
He was relieved that he would not have to make any other polite conversation in the Common Tongue as he felt the familiar sensation of his wife and son approaching. He wondered what had happened in the Winter Garden; Tindómë would tell him soon enough…
Haldirin had a basket with some of last autumn’s apples, for the horses, and Rumil happily took charge of the elfling whilst Tindómë went to speak to Éowyn. Egric, Céolfrith, and the stable hands were content to allow Haldirin to stroke horses, offer apples, and help brush; whilst saying little.
Used, now, to the awareness of his wife’s emotion whenever she was near, Rumil paused to consider what she was feeling. Thoughtful, amused, slightly frustrated… the last was probably because she wanted a chance to talk to him. He focussed on her conversation; Haldirin was happily learning the Common Tongue (and, possibly, the Rohirric) words for apple, horse, saddle and so on from Egric.
Ah - Éowyn was apologising because she would need to bathe before she could spend any more time with Tindómë… good.
“Rumil will need to bathe too. I will talk with him as he does and he can tell me about your day.”
Éowyn looked slightly taken aback by Tindómë’s words. Surely, Rumil thought, she must either join Faramir to bathe or at least wash his hair for him? Éowyn spoke again, and he listened to Tindómë’s reply.
“Haldirin will bathe with his father - he smells rather much of dogs, and now he’s added horse. He seems to have rather a lot of horse spit in his hair…”
Éowyn’s eyebrows lifted.
Did her children not bathe with her or Faramir? He must ask Tindómë some time, Rumil decided, but not before he had asked her about the Winter Garden.
Rumil would have preferred to bathe in the river but knew this disconcerted the mortals; he would settle for the tub in their rooms, and privacy to talk to Tindómë.
Soon he was in the large tub of water; Haldirin at the other end floating pine cones and splashing.
Tindómë knelt on the floor behind Rumil and slowly massaged the cherry-bark and burdock oil into his scalp before combing it down the length of his hair. Were they totally alone, or starlight bathing, this would have been sensuous, but now it was simply pleasurable… and allowed her to open her mind to him so that he could see what she had seen, feel what she had felt, in the Winter Garden.
He was slightly jealous, honestly, that she had seen, and felt, the presence of winter and elfling both more clearly than he had - even though he had suspected that she might do, despite being not-quite-an-elf. As he had not tried to keep that thought away from her he decided it was probably better to share it than for her to just notice it and… ouch! Her fingers on his scalp had suddenly been just a little too firm for comfort… she had probably caught a wisp of that thought already, then…
He shared the thought purposely; in a self-deprecating mental tone.
He felt her considering - and smiling, but only briefly.
She ‘spoke’ from her mind to his, via the bond, rather than just sharing what she had seen and felt.
“I have… a couple of ideas about what I saw - and why I saw it. I think something else is at play, as well as just being edhel… or edhelfaral! I need to get my thoughts a little straighter before I share them with you. But there is, most certainly, something odd going on in the Winter Garden. We will talk later, melethron-nín.”
…………………………………………………………………………………….
Fëa - spirit
Hroar - body; but Elves see themselves as about 75% fëa, 25% hroar…
gwinig-nín - my baby
Annarîn - remembrance gift - the name Orophin and Rumil gave to the mare gifted them in Rohan in The Winter Tale.
edhel - elven
edhelfaral - not quite elven.
Melethron-nín - my love.
…………………………………………………………………………………….
Chapter Four is here.