Uruviel sang as well, and Aldamir listened in wonder. She had such a sweet voice, this Elf-maiden of his! Like the trilling notes of a hundred joyful birds it wove its way through the tapestry of song, adding a glimmering thread. She was seated on a mossy stone, a harp on her lap and a look of gladness in her eyes. Lightly her fingers danced over the strings, touching them, drawing a medley of notes, and springing away again as the tones sang out and accompanied her flowing voice. She sang a song of joy; a song of return from darkness and renewal of hope; a song of joy made deeper by the defeat of death.
As she finished, there were tears in the eyes of many. Getting to her feet, she bowed to Galadriel and took her place beside Aldamir again. He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. �Calwa, melda nin,� he whispered.
�Hannon le,� she answered, her eyes glowing.
Then Minuiel, also one of Galadriel�s maidens, stood up to sing, and a hush fell over the gathered Elves. She was known for her skill with song; by many she was called �mistress of song� for her beautiful melodies. As she took her place, her mithril-like hair fell over her shoulders like a stream of moonlight caught in the sea, glimmering and swaying. She needed no harp or lute; her voice was enough. Beginning with a slow, sad song of sorrow and loss, she swayed gently back and forth with the music as it swelled about her, lapping at the ears of the Elves like the waves on the sea�s shores. All was still but for the voice of Minuiel.
Then her song changed, and swelled to a new song of happiness, of sorrow turned to gladness and loss turned to gain. Her golden voice soared up into the mallorn-tops, dancing about among the leaves and falling back down again like a rain of flowers. Song poured from her throat like a stream pouring down into a silver pool; her grey eyes shone and all present forgot all else but the song and were carried away to a land where tears were mingled with the deepest joy.
As the last tone died away, tears glistened in the eyes of all present. Minuiel blushed slightly as she rose and bowed gracefully, returning quickly to her seat. The Elves praised her singing until she begged them to stop, half-laughing and half-serious. She seemed happy enough, but Uruviel saw something deep in her eyes, something which had come when the Fellowship came, and deepened when they left. Precisely what it was, the Elf-maiden could not tell -- though she thought she could guess -- but she knew that Minuiel was not as full of joy as the others present.
Mithrandir left the next day, and much as the Elves would have liked him to stay, they knew that it was time for him to go. �I have no time to linger,� he told them. �Doom is drawing near and there is much that will be decided very soon. For this I have been sent back, and I must not tarry! Time is now growing short.�
Galadriel gave him a white cloak to go with his white robes, and fastened it with a intricate and beautiful brooch wrought of silver. Over his white robes she threw a cloak of Elven-grey, spun of the same material as the cloaks given to the Fellowship. This one she fastened with a leaf-shaped brooch, also the same as the one given to each member of the Fellowship. Then she stepped back and bowed to him. �May the grace of the Valar go with you and protect you on your journey,� she said, spreading out her hands. �May you accomplish all you have been sent back for before the darkness grows too strong!�
Mithrandir bowed. �Thank you, Galadriel. May you keep the brightness of L�rien glowing for a long time!�
She smiled sadly. �Would that I could. But that time will soon be over, much as we would like it to linger. Nam�ri�, Mithrandir! But do not call this farewell forever, for I feel in my heart that we will meet again, if all does not go wrong.�
�Nam�ri�, Lady of L�rien! I will not call this a final farewell yet. But look to your arrows, and keep your swords sharp! Things will happen which you do not look for. Yet hope remains for those who will trust.�
With these words, he left, and the Elves stood there silent, thinking of his words. Galadriel bowed her head. �Look to your weapons, Galadhrim,� she said when she looked up again. �For though one we loved has returned, and he will aid us greatly, I foresee that much darkness and sorrow will come to pass before all is resolved.�