[piosenniel]

Endamir’s eyes narrowed briefly at the sight of Malris’ hand as it fell away from Tasa’s. ‘I could be charitable,’ he thought to himself, ‘and consider it a simple sign of affection as one friend might give another, or a brother give his sister.’ Until he heard the underlying tone of regret with which Malris greeted Lómwë and him. Endamir’s cheeks flushed with recognition of the gesture and he wondered if Malris would remain as true to Giledhel in her death as he had been in life.

At least, he supposed, he had been faithful to their vows. ‘You really know nothing about this,’ he chided himself. ‘Best you simply drop your ruminations on it altogether.’

‘The bastions, then,’ Endamir spoke aloud to the other three. ‘Why don’t Lómwë and I take the two long walls that run along the north and eastern faces of the fortress?’ He turned to Lómwë. ‘Let’s start with those on the east. As I recall, there were four of them, though my brief glance in that direction showed only three, I think.’ He laughed low, and a grim sound in reality it proved against the brightness of the new day. ‘Though I suppose those spirits who inhabit this place care not whether their abode still gleams with fresh plastering or even that it has few walls left or none.’

He nodded briefly to Malris and Tasa, wishing them good hunting. Then turning back to Lómwë he urged him to lead the way, saying he would pick up that task when they came to the northern wall.