Avarlondwen smiled. "A pleasure to meet you, Eamane," she said to the young elf maiden. "Elen síla lúmenn omentilmo! But, in answer to your question, no, I do not live in the Shire. Or, in fact, anywhere in particular right now. I come originally from Eryn Lasgalen, and most lately from Lothlórien, but now? Now that the Golden Wood is empty of our kind, I find myself mostly traveling."
"There is someone I am trying to find," she added after a beat of silence, her eyes growing suddenly sad.
"I am travelling as well," answered Eamane and took a sip of coffee.
Avarlondwen gave her a long, thoughtful look. "Have you travelled far?" she asked. When Eamane nodded, Avarlondwen smiled again, but the sadness did not depart from her eyes. She was remembering what it was like in the olden days when elves were numerous in Middle Earth and the Golden Wood rang with songs of heroes and tragic loves. Only birds sang now in the woods of Lórien. Her own song, were it to be sung by birds or elves, had turned out to be a tragic one. She would have liked to have boarded the white ships for the journey to the Undying Lands long before now, but felt bound still to Middle Earth. She could neither rest nor leave until she had found the answer to her riddle...what had become of Airefalas?
Airefalas had been her husband. In the years leading into and during the War of the Ring, he had been a courier, carrying messages back and forth between Lothlorien, Imladris, and the elves of Mirkwood, as the forest was known in those days. He had made one last journey from Lothlórien to Imladris, just following the fall of Sauron, and simply never returned. Avarlondwen remembered the days of waiting for the light clippety clop of his elfhorse's hooves on the soil that would signal his return, but the sound never came. His body was never found and no one ever knew what had become of him. Since then, Avarlondwen had made finding him or, at least, confirmation of his death, her quest. It had been twelve years since he disappeared. So far, she had found only sympathy, rumor, and speculation.
"Are you on your way to Mithlond and the white ships?" she asked of Eamane just to make conversation.
The elf maiden shook her head. "No, I am here to learn what I can of the Shire and its people."
"Ah!" Avarlondwen nodded. "Then, I think you will enjoy your stay here. Shirefolk do love to talk about their history... but you will have to wade through quite a lot of family gossip before you can get to the historical part." She winked and Eamane smiled.
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