The Other Ranger [ Lord Of The Rings x Silmarillion ]

Flashbacks

Miril immediately left Aragorn and the group of hobbits to find her friends in Rivendell: Lindir, Oreleth, and of course the brothers, the sons of Elrond.  Her first try was in the banquet hall.

It was a large hall, larger than any building west of the Mountains except maybe the Great Smials of Tuckborough.  At one end was a massive fire, always tended to by an elf or two.  It tended to be a job for one of the teenage rascals that has gotten into too much trouble.  Other than the fire, the room was less than well lit, but the darkness added to the ambiance of the room.  The only people in there was a woman with several young elflings.  She was telling them a story and she looked up when Miril came into the firelight.

“Miril!”

“Oreleth!”

The elf smiled and stood up, walking over to give Miril a hug.  Oreleth was Lindir’s sister, and the two siblings had taken quite a fancy to Miril when the girl had first come to Rivendell.  Oreleth thought back to those days.

“Oreleth!”

“Settle down, Mir.  I’m coming!”

“You promised to teach me the flute today!”

Oreleth laughed, showing Miril that she was gripping two flutes.  Miril grinned widely, excited that her “aunt”(as she called Oreleth) was going to teach her to play today.  Both Oreleth and Lindir were great musicians, though Oreleth spent her time teaching young elves while Lindir preferred the company of his peers.

 “How are you doing, young lady,” Oreleth asked before in concern, looking at Miril more closely, “What happened to your cheek?”

“We were attacked,” Miril said, her hand traveling up subconsciously to her cheek, “Nothing serious.  One of my comrades, however, requires Elrond’s assistance.”

“How tragic,” Oreleth nodded.

“What are you teaching?”

Oreleth gestured to the children, “History.  We’re covering the Sinking of Numenor today.”

“Any idea where Lindir is,” Miril asked her.

“My brother was running an errand for Lord Elrond at the Stables,” Oreleth nodded, “He will be delighted to see you.”

“I’m sure,” she grinned, “I’ll talk to you later, Oreleth.”

“Farewell, Miril!”

Miril turned to leave the hall and walked with a brisk pace out the doors.  She stopped in the courtyard to look at the beautiful roses growing there, delighted to be once again back in Rivendell.  Truly this place was beautiful.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Miril strolled peacefully through the gardens and over the bridge towards the stables.  She wondered how her old foal was, now that he had grown into a full-fledged stallion.  She hadn’t seen him in nearly eight years.  Daeroch was his name, Shadow Horse.  He was a beautiful grey dapple stallion whose coat glistened in the moonlight.

As Miril approached the stables she heard two elven men talking.

“Belegur, I have not seen you in some time!”

“Aye, Lindir, you don’t come by the stables much anymore.”

“I cannot bear to see Daeroch here without Miril,” the first said sadly.

“Lindir,” Miril interrupted, “I’m here!”

“Miril!”

Lindir grinned and embraced Miril.  Then, in concern, his hand went to her cheek.