<b>At the forges, Pegawen stopped just behind Meliadriel and bowed to Turmiel. “We have guests in Greendale,” Meliadriel replied to his greeting, offering him a sunny smile before motioning Pegawen forward. “This is Pegawen, she comes from a place called Lothlorien. She wishes to find a craftsman here who can forge for her a new rune.” <br/>
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Pegawen nodded at this and stepped forward to hold out the rune. The small stone gleamed in varying hues of gray beneath the sun's light, the symbol of light carved into the almost glass-like surface. “My mentor helped me to make this some … 250 years ago? I cannot recall. It has served me well, but I am in need of one that can channel more energy. This one was only really meant for healing. Can you help me?” She finished and looked up at Turmiel, her eyes wide and hopeful.</b><br/><br/><b>Allassiel wasn't nearly as impressed with their new surroundings as Pegawen was. They were quite lovely, she granted them that. But had Greenwood not been its equal once? The thought of what Sauron had done to her home, her people, her husband … The last thought had Allassiel grinding her teeth in impotent fury. She could never repay him for what his orcs had done to Hadron. His body, or what had remained of him, was beyond recognition save the slender gold band he had worn around his wrist – a gift from her the day she told him she was with child. <br/>
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She pulled the sleeve of her tunic up and stared down at the band wrapped around her forearm, the delicate mallorn leaf pattern gleaming pale gold against her skin. Not a day went by that she didn't think of him. <i>He would have liked this place.</i></b><br/><br/><b>Yanking the cloth back over her arm, she set her swords aside and left to seek the others.</b>