[Mithalwen]

Losrian had stood quietly by Ondomirë 's side as he spoke to Elrond. Losrian had seen him from time to time as a child in Lindon but never so closely. She observed him as discreetly as she could, this scion of so many noble lines, whose history and fate was twined with that of Middle Earth.

Musing on this she was slightly flustered when Ondomirë spoke her name. She made herself stop wondering at his confidence in calling her a fine archer when the only time he had seen her bend a bow, the arrow had been pointing at his neck. What a mercy she had let the arrow fall - how dreadful if she had shot him in her panic... Her attempt at concentration failed ot stop her bow being rather more wobbly than the one to her captain and as she met Elrond's gaze she thought she saw a faint hint of amusement in the deep grey eye.

She had heard that the elf-lord was blest with foresight and could read the hearts of minds of others more clearly than usual even among the Eldar. Losrian had neither the guile nor the will to resist his searching regard and her mind was open to him. She sensed he sought to understand not to pry. In return she received compassion and consolation from one whose loss had exceeded her own. She was overwhelmed that one should take such interest in her. He smiled gently "Losrian can you help us?" speaking aloud at last.

"I think we must continue North, my Lord - at least for now - The enemy goes west to Lindon, to the East are only the mountains and there are no passes throught them that we know of north or Caradhras, only I have heard perchance in the far North. To return South, at least immediately might be perilous - the enemy might expect us seek refuge in Lorien or Moria - the enemy might leave a fraction of his army in wait prove overwheming to us without significantly reducing his attack on Lindon" Losrian's face filled with grief at hte thought of her kin at Mithlond facing and attack such as the one on Ost in Edhil.

"If we go north and a little west, we will skirt the end of Hollin Ridge about ten leagues from where the Hoarwell meets the Loudwater which flows from the mountains. We might find some more of our kindred in that region since not all the herdsmen whose stock graze the foothills took refuge in the city. The angle between the rivers might be defended perhaps - but the country is densely wooded further north I am told - I have not been so far myself. " Her voice tailed off and she glanced at Ondomirë for some clue that she had not at least let him down.