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Erebemlin
The ground was frozen, and Erebemlin watched over the young blacksmith, who was shivering under his blanket. The elves had taken turns at watching the camp during the night, and Erebemlin guarded Mellondu’s mind, giving him a dreamless sleep.
A few of the humans began to move about, but Erebemlin paid them no more attention than a momentary glance. He kept his eyes on the blacksmith. Amroth had yet to return, and the elf wondered if he could return. If the king remained silent, Erebemlin would have to decide what course to take next. How would they continue on this journey? Would they follow Tharonwe? The darker elf was not too far that Erebemlin could not sense him.
Taitheneb gently nudged Erebemlin from his thoughts and motioned toward the humans. Nethwador had his hand on Ædegard’s shoulder as some bond was being made, but the elder elf just nodded that he saw them but gave the younger no reaction.
Mellondu began to stir, and the elf placed his hand over his forehead.
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