The lonely lullaby

Baldor the merchant wept quietly through the night and into the morning.  His son, Belgo, cradled the elderly man's head in his lap and tried to re-assure him that he was safe now.  The man's physical wounds would heal, but the potent waters of King Thranduil's glade had brought back memories of the razing of the human city of Dale and the death of Baldor's wife.

"Humans have such powerful emotions", Elladan reflected, as he sat in the lush green grass of the glade.  The cries of the old man had broken the trance of his meditation several times during the night.  Baldor had cried out for his wife, and wept as he re-lived her dying in his arms.

"The shadow of Smaug will darken these lands for for an age" Elladan mused.

He tried to clear his head of these dark thoughts, though even in a beautiful elven glade, he found he could not keep his mind from turning to dark places.

The words of Irime haunted him.  For Thranduil's Steward to take notice of his journey and warn him of the darkness ahead was an ominous sign.  The shadow's reach was encroaching from the South.  He could feel it.  The men and dwarves of these lands had taken solace in the defeat of Smaug and the goblin rabble at the Battle of Five Armies.  Elladan feared that these small victories were merely a diversion.

Once in his travels he had seen the spires of Dol Guldur.  The darkness haunted his thoughts for weeks.  He could feel the shadow encroaching northward from that foul place.  Was that the danger of which Irime had warned him?  How could he and his companions, burdened by a wounded old man and his young son, take on a danger that troubled one such as Irime?

Elladan shook his head abruptly to clear his mind.  It was then that he noticed one of the butterflies from the night before had remained in the glade.  It must have become separated from the others.  Elladan's sharp elven ears could hear the lullaby of the creature, though when separated from the sheer numbers of the horde, it's magic was diminished.  The lone voice served only to soothe the troubled young elf.  He extended a hand and the butterfly landed on his outstretched finger tip.  Elladan gently placed it on the soft elven fabric of his cloak.  He concentrated on the beautiful sound of the butterfly's lullaby and felt calm, if only for a moment.