Finwë sighed. He slumped further into the chair and massaged his temples with his long fingers. Why did he have to tell the Elf-maiden everything? Inside, he knew that she wasn't going to take it well, yet, that blasted impulsiveness of his loosed his tongue, and he found that he had scared her off. She was probably off crying somewhere, bewailing her misfortunes. He buried his face in his hands, and inwardly cursed his impulsive nature. He could be such an Elfling at times.
He withdrew his hands and took a look around the Inn. A Hobbits and Dwarves were giving him odd glances, and the few Elves seemed rather fascinated by him. It was then that he felt the Elf's breath on his ear, a moment before she began speaking.
"Greetings, Finwë, descendant of Fingon. Would you allow a Noldo elf to speak with you?"
Finwë smiled wryly and thought, Am I going to meet all the Elves in the North today?
"Of course, my lady. Please, do take a seat."
Galadel smiled and settled herself in the chair recently vacated by Sindahir. She leaned forward and whispered:
"No need to introduce yourself further my Lord, I know all about you."
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But Melkor also was there, and he came to the house of Fëanor, and there he slew Finwë King of the Noldor before his doors, and spilled the first blood in the Blessed Realm; for Finwë alone had not fled from the horror of the Dark.
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