[Nurumaiel]

Araorë smiled up at Heledharm, a smile that was not lacking in pride. Whenever she saw him she was quite pleased with herself for having arranged him as her daughter's husband. It had turned out as wonderfully as could be wished. Heledharm and Erinlaer adored each other, and Araorë's own husband thought Heledharm a very fine young Elf.

Araorë heard the sound of harp music and faint singing coming from another room. For a moment her eyes grew hard, and her lips set in an annoyed line, but then she tossed her head back and smiled. It was not a crime if Erinlaer wished to sing once in a while, or even most of the day, if Heledharm did not mind. The place looked tidy enough. It was only when she spent her whole day playing her harp, singing, and dancing that it was not a good thing. And then it was for Heledharm to take care of.

The music stopped, and through one of the doorways Erinlaer came, her steps light and breezy and her face full of delight. She took her mother by both hands and stood up on her toes to kiss her cheek. "I'm so pleased to see you, Mother," she said. "Heledharm said you would be visiting some time soon, and I have been anxiously waiting."

"You don't look anxious," said Araorë, brushing her lips on her daughter's hair. "No, you look fresh and young and happy. Your music sounded exactly as you look."

"I couldn't play anything gloomy today," said Erinlaer. "I feel more at peace than I can possibly say. I have had all the day to play my music; Heledharm has listened to me, and sometimes he would sing to my music. And now, Mother, you are here! I could ask for no more, except that Father would come."

"He is close behind me," said Araorë. "He will be here very soon. Now come and bring me to your music, if it is pleasing you so much." She glanced about, her eyes searching and critical. "Everything is very clean," she said, her voice sounding well-satisfied. "These rooms seem to sparkle and shine with cleanliness."

"I knew you would be glad if it was," said Erinlaer. "I worked very hard at it."

So she had only made an effort to keep things tidy because her mother was coming. Perhaps rather because it would make her glad if all were proper, she thought she would be angry if things were not. Araorë shook her head. That was very foolish. At least the place was not falling in ruin. At the least the girl had pulled herself away from the music to work, whatever her motive for it might have been.

"Come, let us sit and you can talk to me," said Araorë. "I do not see you as often as I would like. No, you cannot play music for me. Your father can understand your thoughts through your music, but I need you to speak. Come along. You will have your music when he comes."