[Envinyatar]

Orëmir had already stood up as his brother began speaking to Lómwë. He could sense that his brother’s thoughts were clearing now, though they still carried a pall of fear and unease. He was about to go over to where Tasa sat with Malris when he saw Malris rise quickly to his feet and urge his companions into the courtyard. The tone of command was in his voice and he led them at a run into the fortress.

The wind was rising again, howling . . . beating at the Elves with its frenzied gusts. Orëmir paused for a moment before he took stride, his ears hearing sounds from a distant time . . . the harsh cries of Orcs raised in battle . . . their wrathful zeal as they shook and rattled their weapons, fiendish minds intent on a bloody destruction. The winded battered against him, malicious laughter prickled against his cheeks, running down the collar of his tunic to freeze him to inaction if it could. It pressed against him like an unwanted lover. He shut his mind against the assault.

Reaching down Orëmir hauled his brother to his feet and pulled him along quickly toward the supposed safety of the courtyard. He glanced back once to see that Lómwë followed along closely behind

It was not until the wind released them and they fell onto the hard ground that he turned to take account of the others.

Where was Lindir?