Release from Bondage

Elwë has known time to stretch beyond measure before. Then, it was slow and sweet as honey dripping from the hive; now it is dark and bitter with grief. The bright jewel hanging about his neck sheds no warmth. He and Melian pass each other silently in the halls of Nargothrond, thronged with the ghosts of memory: Luthien laughing, dancing, raising voice in song.

Will time ever gather speed again? Or will he be trapped in it like a fly in amber, until his life fades at last, and he goes to the Halls that will be empty for him?

[For Narwen Almiriel, who wanted Melian and Elwë.]