[Mithadan]

Mithadan chose not to join his friends and return to their chambers. Instead he set out into the city under the cover of darkness, further concealed by his black clothing. The streets were paved in grey stone bordered at the sides with grassy strips upon which grew beds of flowers and fruit trees. The loveliness of the place was numbing in light of his knowledge of the upcoming days. Each building appeared to have been constructed with the goal of being pleasing to the eye, even before the consideration of comfort. Yet he had no doubt that the interiors matched the exteriors in both beauty and utility. At almost every intersection there was a fountain. Some simple, little more than upwellings of water into basins, and others intricate with interplaying sprays and streams of water. He lamented that he had not seen them during the day. He lamented that all this beauty would soon perish. A tear slid down his cheek.

"For what reason does this child of Man weep?" asked a voice from the shadows. A black clad Elf stepped forward in the dim light; Maeglin.

Mithadan chose his words carefully. "The loveliness of this city is overwhelming, and so I am brought to tears."

Maeglin smiled, but there was no warmth in his expression. "Idril has convinced the King that you and your companions are well-intentioned and mean no harm," he said. "But as the Lord of the House of Moles, I would also seek some assurances. It is said that you have journeyed here from many years hence; from the future."

"So it is said," replied Mithadan.

"Well," continued Maeglin. "If so, what can you tell me of the fate of this city which you find so fair?"

"It is said that this city's defenses, the Echoriath and Amon Gwareth as well as its valiant knights cannot be defeated save by treachery," said Mithadan after a moment's hesitation. "It is also said that all known to be traitors to the King perished."

Maeglin stood still, as if weighing the Man's words. With unfiendly eyes, he took a step towards Mithadan. At that moment, a white gob plummeted from the sky to land on Maeglin's shoulder. The Elf spun about but saw nothing. A bird shot down out of the sky striking Maeglin's head with an outstretched claw. He stumbled then backed away towards a nearby alley looking about him wildly.

Mithadan nearly laughed, but maintained a straight face. "It appears that it is dangerous to be out and about this evening, my Lord," he said. "Perhaps we shall have words at some other time." With that, Mithadan turned and made his way quickly in the direction of the dwellings of the Hobbits.