"So, this is the maid Perrin spoke of," he said with a trace of a smile. "Well, you should forgive him for his harsh treatment of you. It comes mainly from ignorance. I knew one of your sisters by name once, many long years ago." There was an undercurrent of sadness in his tone that Lily found herself responding to. Looking up at the old elf, she saw the first kind eyes she had seen in this place. And there was more . . . she saw understanding there as well.
Celedhan led them at a slow walk past rows of weapons set out on racks, but he spoke mainly to Lily as Anest and Brogan considered the broadswords they saw there, many of which had been made by the finest artisans of dwarves, elves and men then living.
"I met her many a long year ago, when in my youth," he told her, "a water-nymph such as yourself. We used to happen upon them on occasion when on patrol around the Marshes of Morag. Few of us had ever caught more than a glimpse of one, for they were wary of us, and vanished if they knew we were near.
"One day, as we tracked a large band of goblins, a few of us were caught by surprise, waylaid as we watered our horses. I managed to escape but was sorely wounded. As I fled for my life through the Marsh, my horse was shot out from under me, and I crashed headlong into the Marsh. I lay there a long time amongst the grasses and reeds, struggling to keep my head above the water, and trying not to be seen as the enemy searched for me.