Valley of Rivendell Free RP

[Raisins]

The Valley’s Edge @Fane Mordagnir

Fuin chuckled. "Aye, I have no doubt you'd have given me a most excellent run, I've only daggers on me now. It would be a right disgrace to the House of the Fountain if you did not." They walked calmly and she for her part enjoyed the birds singing listening to Fane speak. Indeed he was right, the Valley was empty compared to years ago. Even she could feel the turning of the age and the slow decay of time creeping into this place even if it did not yet show itself in any way other than the dwindling number of elves that yet called this land home. She did snort though at the thought of being kept on as a cleaner.

"I do it as a favor to your families patriarch, perhaps you can get him to continue." Fuin said with a chuckle shaking her head. "It is one thing to clean away dust in an unlived house, another to clean one that is lived in." She shook her head, "Indeed Aigronding will be long in dwelling here though I think I will out last him, in these lands, but I never saw Aman, something in him longs for it now even he is changing though his council if that is what you seek on rumor of your father and how to act on such information." She said calmly. "And no worries I shall keep this information to myself until you tell me Aigronding has been informed and you are free to divulge more. I once ranged the wilds often so I know well the many wild places to hide though I do it rarer now at least in the Misty Mountains, I tend to travel now more to Dunlending and the Gap of Rohan" The light of Arien dimmed with a cloud both of them seemed to grow somber for a minute before the whisps passed away leaving beautiful dappled light dancing on both of their faces once more.

"I would suggest the Ost Halatir or the Last Homely House for finding Aigronding the swiftest." She said calmly. "Though he is all over the place it may take months to find him I think some days for he is so busy even here in the Valley." She said with a chuckle. Indeed it was often long between when Fuin could find him in the Valley, and she had more than her own eyes to look for him when the need was great - her falcon could wheel overhead and spot him for her and guide her to him but she as off hunting in the wilds now for Fuin had no need for those eyes at the moment. Though she had not foreseen Fane's return and need for Aigronding.

[Fane Mordagnir]

The Valley’s Edge @Fuin Elda

Fane listened as Fuin told him about Aigronding's change and thought it odd that even he was being drawn by the allure of Aman. The time of the elves really was coming to the end it appeared. He was intent on her as she spoke about her own travels and the best place to find Mordagnir himself. "I travelled through the gap and from the south on my return. The world is darker and the mountains are crawling with orcs. One elf would not stand a chance on the old paths but I'm sure you've seen that side of things." The road home had been long, the road was long anyway but became even longer with all the trickery he employed to prevent being followed.

After all the walking they had finally reached a junction with one of the busier paths in the Vale. "I think I'll probably head to Elrond's House to see if I can find Aigronding, if he's not there my hope would be that our Lord has some idea of his location. As soon as I can I'll come and find you let you know more of my story. I might need help in the coming months both inside and outside of the Valley" He moved to head in the direction of the Last Homely House before turning back and smiling.

"Thank you Fuin for your care of my house and for all you do for Aigronding and my family. I'll find you by your forge no doubt when the time comes to involve you in my plans. I may even pick up a hammer once more. You may remember you taught me some things before Aikari became grandmaster, I was later raised to Journeyman after you left. Perhaps I'll try to rise further." He gave a short quick bow towards he companion "I do not demand you come with me if you have other things to do on this fine day but I also do not wish to force you to leave me. It has been a long while since I've had trustworthy, companion on my journeys so would not say no to one."

[Raisins]

The Valley's Edge @Fane Mordagnir

"Indeed, I would dare say there are no places that it is truly safe to travel alone east of the Bruinen." Fuin said calmly, "I probably have not travelled it quite as recently as you but I make regular trips to Rohan - I've a shop there that I tend to I am always wary when I travel that way. Anything other than that would be fatal I think." She said calmly as they finally reached the wider paths of the vale.

She nodded as Fane suggested that he would head to Elrond's House to try to find Aigronding. "That would probably a good idea, and as always if you need help I am easy enough to find if I am in the Valley there are few enough places that I am found." She said with a chuckle "And I have little to do today so I am happy to accompany you in your search, it is rare to have good company while wondering the Valley these days." She laughed merrily at the bow. "No need to bow mellon, I am old not royal, nor am I of any notable importance in the Valley compared to a good many that are here."

" Good, I am glad to hear that Lady Aikari taught you well enough that you were able to reach Journeyman, I will be pleased to have you back in the forge, even if you have no wish to continue to rise in the ranks. Perhaps your appearance will help prod on some of the apprentices to work a bit faster maybe catch up to you." She walked along with him towards the Homely house. "I remember you in the forge vaguely only I must admit. I am afraid much of the time shortly before I fell in that battle is a haze in my mind, but considering how close I came to slipping into the void from what Lord Elrond has told me, and the scar from him getting the blade from so near my heart is testament enough to that. So I am sure you will forgive me the lapse in memory."

[Moriel]

Take A Break
Part 5
(Private)

They lounged on that same plateau halfway up the waterfall of the secluded glade where Gellam had found Tavari the morning after they had come to Calendolen, indulging in a morning of indolence. Gellam sat with his back against a tree, while Tavari lay with her head on the thick moss of a sloping boulder. In one hand she held a piece of soft wood, in the other a knife, and was whittling with lazy strokes of the blade. Gellam, his fingers idly plucking at the strings of his lute, watched her curiously for a time, trying to determine what the object might become. Soon the lump of wood developed a long neck and four spindly legs, and he smiled: a horse, of course. He watched her hands, as strong and skillful in this delicate task as they were when they grasped her sword, moving each blade with precision for very different purposes. Not for the first time, the knife attracted his attention: he could see that it was old, and bore the wear of long use.

“What is that knife?” he asked at last, nodding at it, “I’ve seen it before. You always seem to have it about, but it’s clearly something special.”

“This?” Tavari paused, and held up the knife. It was a simple clasp knife, the handle made of some dark, hard wood, but polished bright and lighter in the center by the press of her hand; and, too, the wood seemed to bear the shape of her hand. The blade was well kept and polished, though it too showed signs of age; slight pitting here and there that even meticulous care could not assay, and a thinning of its edge. “It was my father’s.” She smiled slightly, and returned to her whittling, looking down at the knife as she moved it through the wood. “He made it, in Aman. I would always steal it from him, when I ran off to explore, or work with the Hunstman. He would pretend to be angry,” she laughed, “but I knew better. Then, after the rising of the Sun, when I set out to roam Beleriand, he gave it to me. ‘It’s dangerous out there,’ he said; ‘you’d better take this’.” Again she laughed, and shook her head. “We had just fought the greatest battle the world has ever known, and he gave me a knife to keep me safe.”

“But it wasn’t really about the knife?” Gellam questioned without question, and Tavari arched a brow at him. He was astute, her Fool.

“No. It was his blessing, really. He knew I could not sit in Nevrast and live the life my mother wanted for me- the life they both wanted for me. I think he’d always known I would never be able to do that, but in the brave young days of Beleriand, when the whole new world was laid before me and the cataclysm at bay… he knew I would stay if he commanded me, and he chose to set me free. I’ve had this knife ever since. When I fled Imladris and left my sword behind, I kept the knife,” Tavari paused and her smile, which had faded, returned in a quirk of her lips. “You would have loved my father.”

Gellam returned her smile, and they both fell back to their respective tasks: Tavari to her carving, and Gellam to his plucking. As Tavari refined the figure of the horse, the Fool’s fingers danced through bits and strains of a dozen different tunes, sometimes alone, sometimes to the accompaniment of his humming or a few lines of song. It was an aimless sort of playing he did when his mind was either at rest or buzzing with too many things to focus on one. He was gazing absently at the waterfall, when of a sudden his fingers struck a melody that sparked a reaction in him: Gellam focused, and strummed a chord. When he and Tavari were alone, they habitually spoke in Quenya: Gellam loved it for its beauty, and for the pleasure and ease it brought her to speak it. And so as he began to sing he translatedas they went, putting the words of the ancient song into the lyrical syllables of Tavari’s mother-tongue,

“Oh the summer time has come
And the trees are sweetly bloomin’
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows among the bloomin’ heather,”

To his great surprise, Tavari sat bolt upright, the nearly-finished horse dropping from her fingers as she looked at him, wide-eyed; but then her shock melted into joyous astonishment, and she sang. But when she did, it was not in the Quenya he had begun, but a Silvan so old it was not far removed from its Nandorin roots, picking up where he had left off,

“Will ye go, lassie, go?
And we’ll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All among the bloomin’ heather
Will ye go, lassie, go?”

It was Gellam’s turn to be astonished, but he did not break his playing: his voice fell silent and he leaned forward as if straining to hear as he continued to play, listening eagerly. Tavari sang on, the lilting tune filling the glade with its long-ago sounds, until it came to an end on a soft and wistful note. Gellam threw up his hands.

“How on earth do you know that song? And when were you going to tell me you spoke Old Silvan?”

“I don’t, not really! I mean,” Tavari rubbed her forehead in a sudden flush of embarrassment, “I learned Silvan well when I came to Thargelion, it seemed only polite, but this, I-,” she shrugged and laughed helplessly. “The song comes from a Nandorin nís who was a friend of ours, and taught Carnistir the language of the wood-elves. It’s her words you hear, the old mode of the song. And the Silvans of Thargelion knew it, too. We sang it many times with them roving out to forage, and brought it back to the hall. I haven’t heard it since… since before.” Gellam shook his head.

“Well I never! It’s a song that’s been passed down in my family since the Elder days, and I usually sing it the same way you did.” Gellam began to pick out the tune again, and this time when he sang it was in the same Silvan as she had sung. Tavari could see the joy he took in bringing those words into the world. Though Silvan had not passed out of common use the way Quenya had, it was still a minority language, and she loved to hear Gellam speak and sing of it. There was a kind of magic in his voice as he sang the Old Silvan words; not that power with which he had been gifted, but a different kind, as if the sun and the forest itself shone from within him. Tavari joined in, singing with Gellam as he played the song again, and the trees rustled gently about them.

[Fane Mordagnir]

The Valley @Fuin Elda

Fane was glad when Fuin opted to accompany him further and even laughed when he bowed telling him it was unnecessary. "From what I can see you are the only elf in the valley to have greeted me, potentially the only one here from all I can tell! In my book that elicits a bow!" He did it again for good measure and laughed himself. If the days of the elves were waning he felt they should at least be able to have a little bit of fun to ready themselves for Aman.

He started to walk along the main path and caught himself resting his left hand on the hilt of his sword on his left hip. He shouldn't have worn it - he was safe in the Valley and it would just keep him on edge, he needed to find some new hobbies that weren't hunting down shadows of his past or slaying orcs. Maybe the forge was his best option. Perhaps the host would welcome him back too once he had rested for a period.

"I completely understand your lapse, I cannot imagine it is an easy feat to return from the very doorstep of Mandos." He had suffered many wounds and injuries in his time but never that they been any more severe than meaning he had to hang back for a short time. To think of being described as mortally injured was not something he could imagine. He made a point in his mind to visit the Healers of Imladris to show his gratitude.

"If I can harry on any of your apprentices then I will and if you need any help with the administration of the place I'm sure I can lend a hand also." As they were walking he realised that not only were the two elves headed towards Elrond's house but also towards the Mordagnir mansion perhaps it wasn't too much out of the way to investigate there. "I know we might not have much luck in this venture but I would like to at least see the family home and maybe we'll get a surprise with Aigronding being there!"

[Raisins]

The Valley @Fane Mordagnir

She chuckled as he bowed again after stating that she MAY very well be the only elf in the entire Valley and shook her head "Oh Erestor would wish I was not here most days the poor soul will probably have a fit seeing me walking towards the Homely House." She said with a snort. "I sent one of Aigrondings hounds through it with a chicken it had already caught dangling from a stick in front of it. I think he was cleaning chicken feathers for a week or two afterwards." She laughed "Rusca and I made off with an entire bowl of raspberry pie filling thanks to that stunt."

She let out a little sigh, indeed it was good to be able to laugh at themselves and their own antics, she shook her head, "Nah, it was not the doorstep of Mandos, I think that is why I managed to hang on. I would not have passed to his halls with a Morgul blade, I remember the blackness so clearly. No I was on the edge of the void that Morgoth was cast into and that was a fate I did not want. I was lucky that Elrond made it there with as much haste as he did or I would have perished forever." She said calmly it was strange being so calm about such a thing but what else could she be? Being fearful about it would do her no good she was alive and on her feet once more - a feat in itself - Which reminded her the next time she stole pie filling she should share it with Elrond show her appreciation for it (not that running his forge and returning to her duties in Ost Halatir and the Abad Nestad were not appreciative... but it was in fact the little extra things. Like stolen pie filling)

Fuin did smile at the thought of having someone helping in the Tingdain, indeed that would be good. "An extra hand making sure orders are completed and stores are kept up would be good, I do know that we have gotten a number of orders and that we often make small items to take and sell in the Bree Market. "A trip to the Mordagnir home would be interesting, I have not been there in a while - I think Aigronding is hoping I won't corrupt Rusca too much with my pie filling thievery."

[Fane Mordagnir]

The Valley @Fuin Elda

"Erestor won't have been pleased with that I can imagine but what do they say about power going to the head?" Fane had long felt like the chief of Elrond's house was a busy body who held himself higher than many. The idea of chicken feathers strewn over the entirety of Elrond's halls and the look on the ruler of Imladris' face pleased Fane. "The dog was likely as destructive as a band of orcs also - I can only imagine the chaos!"

Fane had never imagined that a person could speak so calmly about their own brush with death. As elves it was something that so rarely arose outside of wartime death rarely crossed their minds. Even though he had lived through the sack of Gondolin and the Last Alliance they were such short bursts of violence that they almost disappear into the thousands of years of life. Of course there was sadness there but only at the loss of the people disappearing in a blink of an eye.The Void though would put the fear into many akin to the fate of mortal men who disappear into the unknown until the end times.

Being able to delve back into more creative arts would be a blessing Fane thought - too long had his life been on the destructive end of the spectrum and wielding a blade instead of forging them. "Well the good news Fuin is that I can count and can swing a hammer so all your boxes should hopefully be ticked! I'll make sure to come by with my apron sooner rather than later!" They turned down the path headed towards the home of the Mordagnir's as he listened to Fuin talk about her influence on Rusca and laughed loudly "That girl needs a bit of mischief in her life! Powers above it feels like an age since I saw her, she'll almost be grown by now surely!"

Both of his families were special to Fane, the one he had once thought was totally lost to him and one who opened their arms to him. It would be good to be back with them instead of chasing potential ghosts. Maybe Aigronding can make suggestions on what to do next.

[Raisins]

The Valley @Fane Mordagnir

"No he was not. Neither was Elrond I should think when he was finding feathers everywhere." She said with a laugh "I think Elrond sent me several feathers he found with a note saying they belong to me and that I am not his child I should clean up after myself." She laughed the moment of darkness forgotten as if she'd said nothing at all about teetering upon the Void due to the Morgul blade. Indeed she had far worse ghosts that haunted her minds from ages long past.

"I graciously told him it was one of the Mordagnir dogs that made the mess and he was welcome to try to talk a hound into cleaning up their own mess I would watch." She chuckled as they continued on the path she could see both the Homely House and Mordagnirs halls as the walked at a casual saunter. "Indeed Rusca is grown now, though not fully, she is certainly no longer and elfling and I think is using a sword of her own now, and how to heal. Though I do not think she's actually tended any wounds I do know she is the current receptionist at the Abad Nestad." Indeed Fuin had made sure that she had not seen the cut on her own hand when Rusca had taken her to a healer to have it dealt with - not wanting to see if she was the sort to faint at the sight of blood.

"I have a hard time believing she uses a sword, I've offered her archery lessons and gifted her my bow, though I do not think she knows it was my first bow when I became a Marchwarden of Doriath. I've not had the heart to tell her I think she would be afraid to use it if I were to." Fuin smiled "So there is your bit of discretion - no telling Rusca the history of her bow."

[Tharmáras]

Fathers and Sons
With @Fane Mordagnir
yet open to all for collaboration we've decided together.

A Note to the Reader: Moriel and I decided together when
Linyamaril was constructed and how Elrond knew of the valley
before making it his home leading survivors of Eregion to it. This will
be elaborated and dramatized in AoA when we get to the Second Age.

Few ever flowered east of the Land of Gift.
- Tolkien, concerning the Fragrant Trees of Westernesse
from Unfinished Tales: A Description of Númenor

"Indeed Aigronding will be long in dwelling here though I think I will out last him,
in these lands, but I never saw Aman, something in him longs for it now."
- Fuin Elda


"They deserved an explanation as to why he had disappeared especially
as he left them as he was due to set out on an expedition leading on the orders of Elrond."
- Fane Mordagnir

"So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a
long way off, his father saw him and was filled
with compassion for him; he ran to his son - Luke 15:20, NIV




Round scarlet fruits of the Yavannamírë grove swayed in the breeze and snowy leaves of Taniquelassë fluttered in the wind wafting through Linyamaril. Chimes were strewn on boughs, great and small, or festooned along domed buildings of pink-veined white marble and tinkled melodiously. Musicians of Salgant's Harp played serene pastoral hymns on brick pathways of orchards where Feanorian lamps were strung to illumine the estate in blue splendor once unhooded. The estate of Aigronding's family and center of their businesses was a peaceful place in the idllyic northern forest of Elrond's valley. Roina and her masons built the gabled structures and fair towers of Linyamaril when Elrond established Imladris as his stronghold and refuge; before its settlement when the clan lived in Eregion, Aigronding's wife and her guild built the first of Linyamaril's buildings as a second home following its discovery by the Mordagnirs in the Second Age. Having its secluded picturesque location revealed to him by Aigronding years before the fall of Eregion, Lord Elrond had led the refugees of the land of holly to the river vale.

Aigronding, dressed in a blue and grey damask belted tunic, was sitting on an ivied porch swing of the famiily's residential manor. The family lived here and guests, both foreign and domestic, tarried with their permission. A little child rested on his knee. Narwalótë, a petite Elf-girl Caramirie's age and also long of carmine hair, was soon collected by her mother who was grateful for the blissful songs which lulled her little one to sleep. Eilianthel was Aigronding's eldest daughter, a celebrated gardener and horticulturist; the fruit trees and Valion's old cider mill of Linaymaril wouldn't have been planted and founded without Eilianthel's expertise. Although she excelled at floral cultivation and management, Eilianthel was also veteran soldier; she was a warrior of distinction in Glorfindel's House of the Golden Flower battalion and served the Halcyon Guard of Imladris at times.

"I believe Fuin's playful shenanigans at the Last Homely House has spread to our own abode," said giggling Eilianthel, "and that she has, once again, enlisted Aewrusca's help." She declared in melodramatic flare that they had a traitor in the household. Aigronding was mellow and reserved; Eilianthel was cheerful and warm-hearted as was her joyful jocular brother Valion, quick to smile and laugh, and seldom ever frowned or scowled. She had her parents' vivid blue eyes and her mother's flowing auburn hair. "My gardeners tell me their freight of crimsonfruit sold to the Last Homely House is short today," Eilianthel told her father. "I assume Apsatari will have fewer Yavannamírë pies to bake tomorrow, Atar..." She touched her stoic father's broad shoulder, telling him that her mother wanted him in the house.

"Just an hour, dear," Aigronding answered in gentle stubbornness. His wife, their daughters, and Deren knew Aigronding would sit on the white wrought iron bench watchfully. With a wistful expression he gazed at the great slender railed bridge arching over the deep mirrorlike lake which gave his land its Quenya name. He anticipated the return of his many children he adopted into his family over the centuries, most of them wayward and lonely and orphaned. All of his wards inevitably left on purposes of their own, most of the time vanishing without a trace whether it be a quest or simply wanderlust. If Aigronding were to say that he was used to it, he would be lying; it always pained him when he was never told, staring somberly at vacant chairs. If any of his honorary children chose to tell Aigronding of their leaving he assured them that if they ever tired of being gone the bridge of Crystalpool would lead them home. So Aigronding sat here for a short space of time each Imladris day and waited for a familiar face to emerge from the beech thickets south of the bridge. He could not wait forever though. Aigronding yearned to return to Aman with his family several years from now Roina had agreed unless Elrond decided he would sail to be with his wife in the Undying Lands.

"They will never return, Atar," Eilianthel declared and heaved a sorrowful sigh. "It must be all the pink," she assumed, restraining a gust of laughter until Aigronding begrudged her a smile. Eilianthel ventured into the house to lay Narwalótë to bed for her nap, leaving Aigronding to his vigil and the solace of trilling larks gaily taking wing amongst the forest canopy.

When his observance had ended, Aigronding rose up to enter and dine with his wife but he caught sight of Fuin appearing near the bridge of Linyamaril in the shadow of Arasoron's statue flanking one corner. Aigronding briefly wondered if Fuin came to admit she was behind Aewrusca's obvious theft of Yavannamírë crimsonfruit but it was the shocking presence of Fanecu, Manar's son who joined the Mordagnir clan, which eclipsed the Herald's thought of stolen freight. He exclaimed Fane's name, rushing down the rounded stairs of the portico, and ran across the bridge to tightly embrace Fane.

"You're alive, son!" Aigronding rejoiced, touching his face. There were fathers, even foster parents, who could have lectured Fane but the forgiveness and mercy and gentleness of Aigronding was famed in all corners of Elvendom. "Where have you been in the Wild, son?" Aigronding asked rather than demanded, puzzled not angry, holding Fane by his shoulders studying him. Aigronding viscerally knew it wasn't a thrillseeking pleasure which drove Fane into the great unknown yet a singlemindedness to pursue something which matttered to him in faroff places, dutiful a person as he was. Aigronding was a council member of the Wise as were many prominent Elf-lords of Imladris and as Elrond's Herald, Eärendil's son told Aigronding many things but he had not shared with Mordagnir the reason for Fane's disappearance. "I know you have a home of your own in Imladris but the doors of Crystalpool are always opened to you; I don't know how long you will stay but please visit the manor anytime you wish. There's tranquility in the orchards and in spa of Airien, my wife's niece, to sooth weary souls. Will you join Roina and I for some refreshment inside? Tell us what you will, Fane; I won't ask more than what you're willing to share and neither will my wife. Fuin may come as well." A rare smirk graced Aigronding's lips as he regarded his old mischievous friend in amusement. "Perhaps she may enlighten us concerning the whereabouts of a missing crate of Yavannamírë crimsonfruit..."


The belfry of Linyamaril rang out its silvery voice, its tuneful music proclaiming a new hour of the day.

[Fane Mordagnir]

Fathers and Sons
with @Fuin Elda and @Tharmáras but open to any to join

Fane listened to Fuin tell the tales of Rusca, he also couldn’t believe that the child he remembered was wielding a sword and working at Adab Nestad. “I’m sure she’ll have many teachers but perhaps I can lend her some tips also when she has time. I’ve been known to be handy with a sword from time to time.” He could now see both the Last Homely House and the Mordagnir Mansion approaching now. His family’s house seemed almost bigger now than he ever remembered it being.

The beech trees began to open out and the bridge came in to view leading to Linyamaril. As Fane rounded the statue of Arasoron he heard his name be spoken on the other side of the bridge. All of a sudden he heard footsteps running towards him and was shocked at the sight of Aigronding running the span of the bridge towards him and engulfing him in a tight hug.

When Fane was released form the embrace, he took half a step back and looked at his adoptive father. He was wearing a fine tunic to match his stature as one of the most respected elves in Rivendell. “Yes I am alive and I am glad to find you again Aigronding” Fane could see the curiosity in the older elf’s expression and knew he was inspecting his returned son for injury or explanation. “Where I have been is a long tale and one to be told with a drink in one hand and a comfortable seat to listen well. To say simply though I have been up and down Wilderland with few comforts.”

Fane could only presume that no knowledge of his journey’s had been passed back to Imladris but he could understand that as he had only truly spoken to elves on the outskirts of Lorien on his return journey. To those elves he had not spoken much about his task but they may have sent word west of the mountains back to Elrond. and his councillors. Perhaps it have not arrived yet and this is why his return was unexpected.

“I feel I may move here for a time - the wild is a lonely place when you don’t know who you can trust so to be around friendly faces will be good.” Some rest and recuperation was on the cards for Fane once he had told his story and gotten Aig’s opinion on what he should do next. He looked up at the white marble towers of his family’s home and felt a weight fall off his shoulders. “Refreshment is most welcome and perhaps that is the opportunity to tell my tale. Fuin you should come also - not just to answer to these missing fruits but also to hear my tale. It is not one that any would wish to repeat often. I need advice though so I will tell you all that you need to know!”

He set off to cross the bridge and he smiled, glad to be home and surrounded by friends and family again. He heard the voice of the bells declaring a new hour and felt like he was being welcomed back by the house as well.

[Raisins]

Fathers and Sons
With @Fane Mordagnir and @Tharmáras

Fuin stood back hearing the stampeding Aigronding coming for Fane. Indeed she had figured that he would do something like that, she knew well enough of his habit of sitting and waiting. Watching for so many adopted children that would never come home, some perhaps had made it to the western lands in one piece... others were still wandering in Middle earth... And others still. Well there was enough danger in this world that she had no doubt some of them were bones forgotten to the world at this point. A grim thought that she wisely kept to herself as she stood waiting for Fane and Aigronding to greet each other. She looked at the statue of Arasoron. The man that had for almost an age kept her from killing Aigronding, and he still was. It had been one of his final requests of her, to not kill his brother, that he was good, and that he couldn't believe he would kill his oath brother. Her hand stayed because of him and that statue that seemed to look into her soul. She let out a short breath as she heard the conversation turn back to her.

She smiled seeing at smirk and met it with her own. "I'm happy to eat and drink you out of house and home any day." She said calmly and nodded as Fane mentioned he likely would not want to tell his story too often. "I am happy to listen to your tale and give what advice I can, I go to the wilds far more often than Aigronding." As for the fruit she could not help but shake her head at the two of them. Indeed she was a thief of strawberries, plums, apricots, and occasionally apples... All the Valar save a person if they wanted to keep a hold of their raspberries - perhaps it was good Morgoth stole some gems and not raspberries, the war with him would have been over very swiftly for Fuin would have snuck in and eaten all the berries and escaped with more ease than Luthien and her silly cloak and singing. But... Yavannamírë crimsonfruit? she wasn't even sure what that was, perhaps she had taught Rusca far too well, that or they were using their silly Valinor names again that Fuin didn't know r couldn't be bothered to remember. That was entirely possible. She didn't remember stealing any fruit in a crate in months. She had raided a plum tree about a week and a half ago sneaking intot he back of the manor to make herself a plum cake that she had not shared with Aigronding or his family. "And we'll have a talk about this... crimsonfruit." She said with a chuckle and motioned for them to lead the way into the house over the bridge.