"NIGHT WAS THE HOUR OF THE WOLF..."
✧ ☫ ✧
THE NEXT MORNING, snow was lying all around them, though not so high as to block their way. Slowly, the Sun wandered across the sky. They travelled southward fast, through Eregion over steppe and prairie reaching Durin's Vale a few hours before sunset. Close to the Walls of Moria, Gandalf called Frodo to him under the pretence of needing help as he was old. Arina exchanged a look with Aragorn. Was it about the Ring? By nightfall they beheld the west-gate of Moria, its great walls carved from the slopes of the Misty Mountains. Gimli seemed to be at a loss for words when he finally them, the entrance to the mines his people had abandoned long ago because of a monster, Durin's Bane.
"The Walls of Moria." The dwarf's voice was hoarse with admiration as he pointed at the walls.
When she looked up, Arina saw a wall of stone, grey in the weak light of the Moon. As they walked further, they were informed about dwarf doors.
"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed."
"Yes Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secret is forgotten," Gandalf conceded.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
Arina gave a quiet snort at Legolas' comment. Gimli retorted with a growl, causing her to roll her eyes at the typical banter between elves and dwarves. This feud would never end, despite the friendships between elves and dwarves that sometimes occurred, even had been established in this very place before Sauron had lain waste to Eregion. Soon, they reached a muddy lake with black water and algae on its shores. In front of her and Aragorn, Frodo slipped in the water.
"Careful," she warned him, not wishing to disturb the water, while they followed Gandalf to wherever he was heading. Not long after it became clear that there had to be some kind of door as there were two trees, though dead, on either side of where Gandalf now stopped. Squinting, Arina thought she could faintly see some traces of outlines on the bare grey rock, but it couldn't be if dwarf doors were truly invisible when closed.
"Well...let's see...Ithildin," Mithrandir murmured while brushing his hand against the stone. "It mirrors only starlight...and moonlight." He turned around where the clouds had clouded the moon but now shifted.
And indeed, a door shimmering with the mirrored light of the Moon appeared on the stone, with several emblems and with white shimmering runes appeared, glowing in the dark. No, not runes. Tengwar. Fëanorian characters in the mode of Beleriand that had been taken by the waves after the War of Wrath. Arina stepped closer to read them, noticing that whoever had inscribed them had used Sindarin mode.
Ennyn Durin Aran Moria: pedo mellon a minno. Im Narvi hain echant: Celebrimbor o Eregion teithant i thiw hin. The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria: speak, friend, and enter. I, Narvi made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs.
Celebrimbor, son of Curufin the Crafty, most like his father out of the seven sons Nerdanel had given him. Celebrimbor, the lord of Eregion who had fallen when it was laid waste. The Fëanorians had always been a little too eager for knowledge.
"Durin's Emblem!" Gimli recognised the hammer and anvil underneath a crown with seven stars that shone beneath the Tengwar at the top of the Doors.
"And there is the Tree of the High Elves!" Legolas cried out, referring to the two trees wrapped around the pillars that made out the border of the Door. The trees that had stood in Tirion upon Tuna, she assumed.
Most prominently than all else shone an eight-pointed star in the centre of the door. Arina's breath hitched when she recognised it. The Star of the House of Fëanor, the Line of the Dispossessed, shone above the ando near the bottom of Durin's Doors. Celebrimbor had made these doors and she had had a foreshadowing feeling that they would come across Fëanorian material here, yet it still took her by surprise.
"What's that star there?" Pippin asked, curious as ever.
There was a silence. Those who did not know were waiting for an answer, and those who knew know did not wish to reply. A shadow seemed to have fallen over them.
"It's the Star of the House of Fëanor," Arina informed him quietly, as said ellon's deeds came back into her mind.
"Who was Fëanor?"
"He was one to always desire power. His rash actions and misdeeds caused death and destruction to his own kin for a long time after death had taken him. It would not stop until his entire house was eliminated," Legolas answered brusquely.
He had inherited at least a part of Oropher and Thranduil's hate for the Fëanorians, she noticed. She had heard that Thranduil had been present during the Sack of Doriath, and perhaps he had educated his son about the Ñoldor. Pippin was staring at the Sindar elf with wide eyes, mouth dropped open, a look of fear in his eyes.
"He was a great elf, very skilled. Yet his spirit was like that of fire, untameable and irascible. He turned against his own kin, recovering a possession dear to him that had been stolen. And even so it came to pass that he and his sons were killed, and only one now remains, whither he has wandered none can say." Arina added, not wanting a one-sided impression of Curufinwë, despite all the blood he had shed, to be all the hobbits knew of him. She wondered what had happened to the last of Fëanor's sons, Maglor the Minstrel.
Gandalf looked at her, curiously. She blinked back unmoved, feeling that it was her stand in defence of Fëanor that had startled him. He knew much about her, yet there was little she could tell of his life before he had come to Arda. Shrugging it off in the knowledge that he would not tell until he felt the need to, she turned her attention back to the doors as the withered trees to both sides that marked the entrance caught her eye. The image of them was soon replaced by a memory of two other grand trees, withered and lifeless by the work of an evil power. Just as Mithrandir began to translate the Tengwar for the others she felt the memories coming back and quickly withdrew to one of the stones on the bank of the lake, sitting down on the cool pebbles with her knees pulled up to her chin, her arms wrapped around her legs. She could not give in; not now. Half of her was still listening to the Fellowship.
"It reads: 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'"
"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked.
"Oh, it is quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open," the wizard replied with astonishing speed.
She heard a soft crunch of weight on pebbles before the Grey Wizard's voice boomed in the dark.
"Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen. Fennas Nogothrim lasto beth lammen," he called, yet there was no noise save the breathing and it became apparent that Mithrandir did not, in fact, knew the word that would open the doors.
"Nothing's happening," Pippin pointed out.
She turned her head to see a slightly dumbstruck Gandalf withdraw his staff from the doors and lean on it. Everyone looked at him disappointed, especially Gimli. Arina scrambled to her feet to stand next to Aragorn who had a slight frown on his face. They knew Gandalf better and in the ranger's case longer than any of the others and did not feel any doubt of this route, though she knew something was sleeping in the darkness of Moria. Gandalf was now pushing against the door with his shoulder.
"Mithrandir, these are dwarf-doors; they cannot be opened by force," she reminded him softly.
He looked at her, a demand in his eyes, a voice in her head. She knew what it was, he asked her for the password.
I did not live in Eregion, but in Harlindon. Only once before have I seen the Doors of Durin; caught a glimpse of them. Eregion fell long before Númenor's ruin and the Last Alliance. But you know that, you know who I am. I don't know who you are. Thoughts ran through her head.
Sighing, Gandalf sat down on a stone, and the others settled themselves down too. Now and then, Gandalf would rise and mutter spells under his breath.
"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of the Elves, Men and Orcs," he said, as if to reassure them — and himself.
"What are you going to do, then?"
"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions I will try to find the opening words.'" Gandalf replied testily.
He tried various elvish languages, including Quenya. "Ando Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa!"
Arina preferred to watch instead of helping Aragorn and Sam untying the packs on Bill who would not be going with them. Sam was reluctant to let his beloved pony go, run away into the night on its own. She strode over to them.
"The mines are no place for a pony. Not even one so brave as Bill," Aragorn was saying.
Sam let go, downhearted. "Bye-bye Bill."
"Go on, Bill, go on," Arina muttered to him, giving it a soft pat on the neck, then turned to the hobbit. "Don't worry Sam, he knows the way home."
The others were getting disgruntled as the night went on. Suddenly, there was a splash of water behind her, causing her to turn sharply. Merry had thrown a stone into the lake. Quickly, Arina ran over the pebbles toward him, Aragorn close on her heels. She caught Merry's wrist, preventing him from throwing another stone into the water, while Aragorn stopped Pippin.
"Do not disturb the water", he instructed the hobbits.
Arina looked at the water intensely, hoping that the stones hadn't woken anything in there. She felt uncomfortable about the water. She didn't know what creatures could be lurking in that deep and dark lake.
"Oh, it's useless", Gandalf muttered, throwing his staff to the ground, sitting down on a stone, clearly discouraged. He took off his hat. But Arina's attention was caught by something else. Small ripples on the surface of the lake. She and Aragorn exchanged another look, fearing the worst and Boromir joined them. They stared at the water, watchful, suspicious.
"It's a riddle", Frodo, who had gotten up, said.
Another ripple, one that even the hobbits noticed.
"Speak 'friend' and enter. What's the elvish word for friend?"
A third wave, a big wave.
"Mellon", Gandalf answered at the same time she whispered it quietly. The wonders of grammar and stress.
There was a crack and groan behind her, and the doors opened slowly. She turned her head only to watch. Gandalf got up, and Gimli took his pipe out of his mouth. Legolas walked towards the door, and everyone followed him and Gandalf. Arina threw another wary look at the deep, pitch-black lake, then followed Aragorn through the doors of stone. They had to hurry.
"Soon, Master Elf, you'll enjoy the fabled hospitality of dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meet off the bone!" Gimli told Legolas enthusiastically, stretching out every 'r'. "This is my cousin Balin's home. And they call it a mine. A mine!" He ended as if it was a big joke.
Gandalf had placed his crystal in his staff, which was now sending out a soft, yellowish light. It illuminated the stairs; in the dim light she could make out shapes on the stone floors. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Dead bodies of dwarves and other creatures were lying on the stairs ahead and all around them. If she hadn't been sure before, she was now; it was too quiet and dark. Too cold. The Mines hadn't been inhabited by creatures of the light for at least a decade.
"This is no mine. It's a tomb!" Boromir breathed darkly.
There was a quiet crunch under her feet when she took another hesitant step. It was only now that the hobbits noticed that they were walking on corpses and jumped. Finally, the rest of the fellowship looked around themselves, only to be met with the sight of all the corpses she had already spotted. The hobbits all scrambled backward, trying to get away from the dead. As heartless as it sounded, Arina was used to death by now. So much death there had been throughout Arda's history.
"No. No! NO!" Gimli cried dismayed, running towards the next corpse and falling onto his knees.
What fate had befallen the dwarves of Erebor who had tried to re-colonise the dwarf-kingdom of Khazad-dûm? She carefully walked over to the next dwarf's body to investigate the arrow that stuck out from what had been his neck. An arm reached past her, and Legolas pulled out the arrow, examining it closely.
"Goblins!"
He chucked the arrow away and fit an arrow to his bow. She did the same, pulling out her bow and an arrow from the quiver on her back. A quiet sound of metal against metal indicated that Aragorn and Boromir had unsheathed their swords.
"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here. Now get out of here, get out!" Boromir urged them loudly, and the hobbits walked further backwards, obviously scared.
"Strider! Arina!" Sam called out into the drowning silence that had followed Boromir's words.
They turned around sharply at the sound of their names and the blood froze in her veins. Something residing in the lake had emerged, grabbed Frodo and swung him into the air. The hobbits were still calling for help and hacked down the arm holding Frodo and pulled him back ashore. But all of a sudden, a dozen arms emerged out of the water and hit Merry, Pippin and Sam, knocking them backward onto the pebble and grabbed Frodo once again. He screamed for help then as they ran out of the mines. Legolas and Arina at once bent their bows. She aimed an arrow at the eye of the monster's gigantic and repulsive head which had appeared on the water's surface now. A breath, the bowstring pulled through to her ear. She let the arrow fly and it sirred off the string, directly toward the beast of the lake, piercing its eye. It opened its mouth full of pointy teeth at the pain as she hoped, Frodo still dangling from its tentacles, when Aragorn and Boromir cut off the arms holding the dark-haired hobbit. She had loosed three more arrows when Aragorn caught Frodo's fall and was aiming another arrow the beast's pharynx when she heard Gandalf's shout from behind.
"Into the mines!"
She and Legolas looked at each other, then nodded in silent agreement and waited until Aragorn, carrying Frodo, and Boromir had pushed the hobbits inside while calling "Into the caves!" before releasing their arrows, distracting the monster, turning around and running inside. There, Gandalf ignited the light of his staff again by tapping it on the ground a few times. Arina didn't know if any of the others had noticed, but the fact that the warden in the lake had directly grabbed Frodo and ignored the others bothered her. It had to be either a creature of darkness or age to sense the Ring and have such hate or need for it.
"We now have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world." Gandalf's voice echoed through the mines as he began to walk.
Legolas, then Gimli, the four hobbits, two in a row, her and Aragorn with Boromir in the back followed him up the first flight of stairs. Arina felt uncomfortable, knowing what Gandalf was speaking of and with Boromir, whom the Ring seemed to have taken at times, behind her. She could feel the shadow that Sauron had laid on this place when orcs and fouler things started to hide in the abandoned mines.
"Quietly now. It's a three-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."
ON AND ON in the darkness they ventured, for hours. By her reckoning it was almost daybreak outside the mines when Gandalf finally halted, telling them that this was as good a place to rest as any. Arina looked around. In the light of the wizard's staff, she could see the ledge where the path fell into the depth of the mines several feet away. To her left, the side of the mountain rose high and steep. There was enough space between the stone and the abyss for them to lie down and try to rest, though it was unlikely that any of them would be able to sleep, however tired they were. There was an unsettling aura to the Mines of Moria, fouler and even older things than orcs. No more words than necessary were exchanged as they settled down to rest in the pitch-black darkness of Moria, away from the light of the Sun or Moon, whether it be night or day.
ARINA HAD LOST TRACK OF TIME, but Mithrandir seemed to be able to tell. After what felt like hours in the darkness, he slowly rose as if to wake them, but it was obvious that none of them, save for the hobbits who had fallen into an uneasy slumber, had actually closed an eye. They followed him as he set off in a general eastern direction, always going up. As they were walking in single file along one of the narrow paths hewed into the mountain, Mithrandir started running his hand along the rough stone.
"The wealth of Moria was not in gold or jewels — but in mithril," he said and turned toward the edge of the path.
The wizard held his staff aloft and its light illuminated a vast mine that lay below them. Arina carefully stepped a little closer to the edge and leaned over. She was met with a deep abyss across which several lines with old wooden wagons for transporting ores were stretched. In the light of Mithrandir's staff and she could faintly see something silvery glinting in a few of the baskets. Mithril. The orcs hadn't taken all of it after their invasion of the dwarf-kingdom of Khazad-dûm, it seemed.
"Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him," informed Gandalf as they continued their way.
"Oh, that was a kingly gift!"
"Yes. I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the whole Shire." Agreed Gandalf, throwing an amused look over his shoulder at Gimli the dwarf.
They entered a great cavern with a path that went through its centre. Arina craned her neck to take in another steep flight of stairs.
Joy, even more stairs. She let out a huff. Dwarves and their ladder-like stairs.
Mithrandir started climbing without hesitation however, and driven by the necessity of it, Arina followed reluctantly. She carefully held onto a small ledge with both her hands, feeling the heavy dust that had settled down over the decades. One step at a time. Climbing trees was nothing new to her, yet this stone appeared to be so much harder to master in the suffocating darkness of Moria, the depth of the mines. No elf was made for going underground.
"Arina?" Legolas' concerned voice sounded from above and she look up to see him clinging onto the stone.
"I'm fine, just waiting for you to move up," she answered meekly, giving him an unconvincing smile.
He looked at her for a little longer, then turned his focus back to climbing. She followed in his wake and pulled herself up the next ledge before following with her feet. By the time Legolas pulled her up the last few inches with a smirk, her fingers were stiff and aching.
"Even Estel managed—"
"Not a word," Arina interrupted him, slapping him on the arm, causing a chuckle to escape him and said Estel. She gave both a glare despite knowing that it would prove useless and turned to follow Gandalf, head held high. On and on through the darkness they walked, a small white light at the front, Aragorn with a torch in the rear. They climbed up two more ladders (Arina slipped on the second one due to her fingers being so stiff she could barely feel them) before stopping in a great cavern which must've been a storage for freshly forged weapons before the fall of Moria. There, Mithrandir allowed them another rest.
She remained watchful, leaning against Aragorn as they sat on the ground together, their backs against a wall.
"Get some sleep," he told her. She looked at Boromir uncertainly. She didn't want to sleep with him on watch.
"Don't worry. The rest of us will stay awake," he said as if reading her thoughts. "Sleep."
Sighing, she moved a little to find a comfortable position. Before long, sleep came, though it was far from restful.
SHE WAS RUNNING through a dark tunnel, the roar of flames and falling debris impacting her hearing. In front of her, the surviving elves fled from the inferno and onslaught of orcs that had destroyed their home. The elf-lord with his golden hair was running beside her, urging the people on. The darkness of the mountain made her feel weak and vulnerable, the air in the tunnel pressing down on her. The walls seemed to be closing in on her in the Everlasting Darkness. Drums and a bright orange light from behind them, coming closer. Finally, light. They had almost reached the end of the passage. The elves broke into cries of relief as the end of the suffocating darkness came into sight, a bright white light at the end of the secret passageway. Cirith Thoronath.
More drums, a roar.
Elennúmene looked back over her shoulder. A creature appeared at the end far of the tunnel, veiled in flames and illuminating the way with menacing orange shapes. A flaming whip in one hand, a dark sword in the other, it let out a thundering roar. A Balrog had followed them.
Arina woke with a start, making Aragorn flinch.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, just - just a dream," she stuttered.
Aragorn was still looking at her strangely, but luckily didn't have time to ask as Mithrandir waved him over. Arina joined Legolas who was leaning against the wall.
"Won't you sleep?"
"I will not find any sleep in these mines. There is slumbering darkness here, and the deep places of Middle-Earth are no place for an elf of the forest."
So he could sense it, too. She had been unsure of Durin's Bane before, but the memory told her all she had to know. Yet if it was indeed a Balrog...she had failed. Would Mithrandir and her together stand a chance?
After several hours, they were on the move again and soon came to a cave with three archways, each leading to the east, but on different heights. The left one led down, the right one up and middle one seemed to remain level. Gandalf climbed up and looked at each archway.
"I have no memory of this place," he muttered.
They waited for Gandalf to remember. Gandalf talked with Frodo and Arina noticed a splash and a silent tapping of feet. She turned into the direction the tapping was coming from. The creature making the noise must have seen her turning, for when she looked, she only saw a flash of eyes, and a shadow hurrying into the dark. Arina was about to tell Gandalf when she noticed that he and Frodo were talking about the thing that was tracking them, too.
"Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many." Gandalf was saying.
It was Gollum indeed. Arina knew he had come for the Ring, but they had underestimated him. She did not know whether he had escaped or had been set loose, but he had been able to escape Thranduil. She knew Gandalf and Frodo were still talking, but she paid no heed to that. She watched how Gollum disappeared into the shadows, thought about his obsession with the One and what might come from it. It was hard for her to believe that Gollum had been a Stoor called Sméagol before he had found the Ring some five centuries ago. But then something Gandalf said caught her attention.
"So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."
Arina had the feeling that the wizard's eyes flashed over to her at this.
'Thou shalt use these lives, and thou wilt decide what to do with the time given to thee. This is thy quest. Come before us for our final judgement when thy time is up. Until then, thou shalt not be permitted to enter the Undying Lands.'
Such had been the Valar's words. She would never forget them. Gandalf went on.
"There are other forces at work besides the will of evil."
"Bilbo was meant to find the ring. In which case, you also were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought. Ah, it's that way", he noted.
At once, life came into their bodies again. When Merry said "Gandalf remembered!" lightly and almost cheery, the wizard's reply was rather amusing.
"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here", he said, looking down the stairs. "If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."
He walked down the stairs of the left archway, the rest of the Fellowship following him down. When they came out of the tunnel again, they found themselves in a great hall.
"Let me risk a little more light. Behold, the great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf",
Gandalf spoke while he walked further into the hall, the light of his crystal growing steadily brighter. In this light, Arina saw how high the ceiling of this hall was, with hundreds of rows of high square pillars, wonderfully ornamented by the skill of Durin's folk which she admired once more.
"There's an eye-opener and no mistake," Sam whispered.
Every member of the Fellowship was at a loss for words. They all gazed at the pillars and the ceiling, almost forgetting that they were in Moria. There were pillars everywhere, they were in the middle of Khazad-dûm. A deep humming filled the hall. She turned around. Gimli had broken into a song, his deep voice echoing in the wide cavern.
The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet on the Moon was seen,
No words were laid on stream or stone
When Durin woke and walked alone.
He named the nameless hills and dells;
He drank from yet untasted wells;
He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,
And saw a crown of stars appear,
As gems upon a silver thread,
Above the shadow of his head.
The world was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond
And Gondolin, who now beyond
The Western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin's Day.
Arina blinked. Gondolin with its bright white towers, the great fountains in the King's Square. The fire-drakes and orcs and Balrogs that had ended the Hidden City and many a life. Gimli continued to sing, unaware of the memories he had summoned.
A king he was on carven throne
In many-pillared halls of stone
With golden roof and silver floor,
And runes of power upon the door.
The light of Sun and Star and Moon
In shining lamps of crystal hewn
Undimmed by cloud or shade of night
There shone for ever fair and bright.
There hammer on the anvil smote,
There chisel clove, and graver wrote;
There forged was blade, and bound was hilt;
The delver mined, the mason built.
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale,
And metal wrought like fishes' mail,
Buckler and corslet, axe and sword,
And shining spears were laid in hoard.
Unwearied then were Durin's folk;
Beneath the mountains woke:
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
And at the gates the trumpets rang.
The world is grey, the mountains old,
The forge's fire is ashen-cold;
No harp is wrung, no hammer falls:
The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;
The shadow lies upon his tomb
In Moria, in Khazad-dûm.
But still the sunken stars appear
In dark and windless Mirrormere;
There lies his crown in water deep,
Till Durin wakes again from sleep.
"I like that!" said Sam. "I should like to learn it. In Moria, in Khazad-dûm! But it makes the darkness seem heavier, thinking of all those lamps. Are there piles of gold and jewels lying around still?"
But the dwarf, having sung his part, said no more and remained silent as they walked past rows and rows of pillars with Gandalf at the lead, and Aragorn and her at the back, the ranger holding up a torch. At the end of the hall, there was a double-winged door, wings wide open, the wood withered. From the inside, there was a cold, white light. Before the doors laid about ten dwarves' corpses. As soon as Gimli saw them, he let out a strange sound and ran towards the doors.
"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted.
But the dwarf paid him no heed and went on, past the corpses and into the chamber which they had defended with their lives.
꧁ ───────✧ ☫ ✧─────── ꧂
Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, but here you go! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please remember to vote, comment and share!
꧁ ───────✧ ☫ ✧─────── ꧂
Translations:
Sindarin:
* Annon Edhellen edro hi ammen. — Gate of the Elves open now for me.
* Fennas Nogothrim lasto beth lammen. — Doorway of the Dwarf-folk listen to the word of my tongue.
Quenya:
* Ando Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa! — Gate of Elves listen to my word, Threshold of Dwarves!
disclaimer: only Arina and anyone else who is neither in the books nor the films were created by me. the rest are owned by the Tolkien Estate and New Line Cinema. also, none of the pictures/art (excluding the personalised elves, courtesy of meiker) belong to me, unless clearly stated differently. copyright © 2020~2022 by LilianaLithothiel