[*Varda*]

*****Blue Mountains*****

Serin looked back at where Theron sat, clearly deep in thought. The trap-cart clattered noisily as they made their way into the Grey Havens. Mikhelm sat silent, gazing straight ahead and paying little attention to the glances of the elves.

“Cursed Elves,” Mikhelm growled inwardly. “The war could have been over so much sooner, if they had only chosen to fight Sauron earlier.” Mikhelm was resentful towards the Elves, knowing little of the war except what he had heard from the dwarves returning to the Ered Luin after the war.

Serin looked back and nudged Theron gently, to shake him out of his contemplation. Serin could not help but wonder what Theron was so deeply in thought about. Theron jolted awake, and observed the Grey Havens and the sea rolling past him. It was now around nine o’clock, and the sky was slowly turning darker above them.

“I suggest resting here for the night, Theron,” Serin suggested. “We have had a long day’s travelling, and I hear the Elves have become more hospitable to our kind. At any rate, we cannot venture much further tonight.”

“Very well,” Theron replied. “But we must leave early in the morning, if we hope to reach the Shire in a few days time. We cannot be late to arrive at Minas Anor.”

[ October 02, 2002: Message edited by: *Varda* ]