Ruins and Revenants

Rats

Soot and filth marred the rubble. Ghastly over the remnants hung Gondolin's ghost, a spectre arisen from shattered pillars and the dragon-scarred stones of torn-down walls. Rats skittered in the marble ruins and some broken fountain somewhere still spilled murky water endlessly down the dripping steps.

Gold patterns trailed up charred doorposts. No door remained. Of the tower's inhabitants, only bones lingered. Erestor stumbled over an object cast carelessly away.

"Here's something," he said. "Look."

A scratched round stone etched with golden flowers. He passed it to Melinna. "A doorstop?"

"A paperweight, surely," said Melinna. "Someone will know at Sirion."

Dining in Mandos

Carrots

There was blood on the stones heaped up by the pass, but it had long since dried to a bad memory beneath new grass and blossoming celandine. Spring was fresh in the air, the sunlight shining cool and clear past frosted peaks, and the birds were singing. The flower-etched stone was heavy in Melinna's hand.

"They care about their own dead, the Noldor," she said. "I wonder, did Fëanor's sons bury Dior? We should leave something on the grave."

Erestor was peering down into the abyss.

"I might have a carrot," he said over his shoulder. "Do the dead eat?"

Memento

Buckwheat

"You must have found Glorfindel's tower," said Idril Celebrindal. "I saw him with this when we crossed the Helcaraxë. It was worse than the worst winter you can imagine. We had only what we could carry. But everyone kept something to remind them of those they'd left behind..."

Her eyes glistened. Abruptly, she thrust the flower-etched stone back into Erestor's hands.

"Glorfindel brought that," she said and walked away, disappearing into the stands of wild buckwheat in flower around the burgeoning settlement.

They watched her go. "That's all very well," said Melinna, "but is it a paperweight or a doorstop?"