Tulë returned to the city, having journeyed down the the River Nunduinë to Nísimaldar, the country of fragrant trees within which the haven of Eldalondë the Green lay.
Of all the havens of Númenor it was accounted the most beautiful, and in the early days of Andor, the swift white ships of the Eldar came there often.
About it, up the seaward slopes and far into the land grew the evergreen and fragrant trees which had come out of the West to be planted there: oiolairë, lairelossë, nessamelda, vardarianna, taniquelassë, and yavannamírë with it's round, red fruits. The air was ever filled with the sweet scents of the West. The elf revelled in the familiar scents and they refreshed him. Of especial delight to him were the groves of malinorní, their tall and mighty grey-silver trunks supporting a canopy of glorious gold.
But now was not the time to be dreaming of the West he knew. There were preparations to be checked on, and last minute details to be seen to.
The ship would be here soon; he could almost feel its approach over the waves. All must be ready by then.
[ August 16, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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