[Formendacil]

Estahir's eyes snapped open.

Lossë was looking straight at him, arm trapped behind his back.

He straightened immediately, allowing her hand to slip out, but catching her arm instantly, and forcing her to sit at the table beside him.

"It's not wise to try and pick a Ranger's purse, young lady," said Estahir in a growl. "Though I'll indulge your pride and say that you would have gotten away with it, if the Valar hadn't given me the urge to move at that moment. I'll confess to being curious though. What's a daughter of Men- and one with blood of Númenor at that- doing picking pockets in the heart of the Shire?"

Estahir's strong grip prevented Lossë from moving anywhere. He peered at her intently, as if willing her to reveal her secrets.

"So stay and sit for a moment, and I'll let go, you young kitten! I'm old and lonely and you have the look of a girl who's somewhat lonely herself. And I'd like to indulge my curiosity, although..." Estahir's voice trailed off here. "... although that's gotten me into trouble in the past."

Trouble indeed! After finding the name of Angelimir of Nenuial on the broken statue's base, Estahir had been unable to put the matter of the rag out of his mind. Who was Angelimir of Nenuial? Why had he had a hoard? Where did the map on the rag lead? Why had it been hidden?

For three months, these questions had plagued him. He had scoured the old ruins of Fornost, hoping to find more clues to Angelimir's identity, but there was not a trace of him that Estahir found in the old city. After three months, however, Estahir was relieved as commander of the Fornost detachment, and given leave to return to the Angle to visit his family.

Instead, he had gone to Rivendell.

Estahir's wife Míriel had passed away ten years before, and their children, though young, were grown. Of greater priority to the ranger's mind was the name "Angelimir of Nenuial". And so he had gone to Rivendell, to seek the answers in the library there to his questions. For there had been deposited such records and books of learning as had survived the Fall of the North, and there also, by reason of its close connections to the Realm of Arnor, had been written and stored many other books of lore. And there, under the rule of the Lords Elladan and Elrohir, Estahir hoped to find some answers.

And he had found them, too...

Estahir shook his head, and looked at Lossë.

"I'm sorry, girl," he said, letting go of her hand somewhat more tenderly than he had first grabbed it. "You can go if you want. I'll not bother you. Enough evil has come of my curiosity." For a moment, Lossë did not move.