Valanya, the 54th day of Lairë
You must pardon my absence, my friend; for I had hardly been in the Valley for a moon when I was again called away to Lindon. The project which I have undertaken has gone well - the catalogue of all the historical volumes in both the libraries of Imladris and Mithlond has been completed through the concerted efforts of scholars in both places. My errand was to bring to Lindon the books which our scholars here in Imladris had copied for the archives in Mithlond, as well as a letter for Master Falmandil, who is in charge of the scholars there. Though I was rather surprised that my presence was requested for this trip, it was an honor to represent the scholars of Imladris once more in Lindon. The journey West passed uneventfully, though I noticed a growing uneasiness lying about the usually tranquil lands of the periannath.
Lindon was beautiful, as it always is in the high days of Lairë. While the woods in Imladris are largely composed of broad-leaved, deciduous trees, the slopes of Lindon are overgrown with pine and spruce. Whenever I had time to spare from my duties, it was delightful to roam in these forests, where sunlight flickered in dappled shadows underneath the evergreen boughs, and verdant ferns carpeted the ground. And the Sea - crashing in mighty waves against the broken coastline - I felt not the inexorable urge to sail West as some of my kin have experienced, but a deep sense of wonder and dread, looking on its vastness.
Master Falmandil received me kindly, as he did the other scholars from Imladris who had accompanied me to Mithlond. In truth, there was not much to be done; he merely wished for me to bring some books from Lindon which had been copied for the libraries of Imladris and a letter for Lord Erestor back to Imladris. In all my stay there, I was reminded again of how much I loved Imladris, and how it would always be my home, despite the loveliness of Mithlond.
A certain air of sadness hangs about the Havens, for in my time there I saw increasingly many companies of Eldar depart for the West. It is as the Wise say; the time of my people is fading, yet I would not sit quietly and watch the memory of the Eldar disappear from these shores for ever. Sometimes it drives me nigh to anger, listening to my colleagues lament the passing of the Eldar. Why should our memory fade, when in word and song we shall remain for ever, if the books of lore are preserved faithfully? I do not understand why they should say such things, for is it not the duty of the scholar to insure that the memory of the past remains alive? The Age of Men may be nigh upon us, but I care not - were there not great heroes and masters of lore among their kin, even in the First Age? Perhaps when the Eldar have left these lands, we shall be naught but a memory, but I would be content, if only our history and lore were left to the Children of Men.
And Arda is yet vast, and beautiful, and I still love its shores. Here I have lived for three thousand years of the Sun, and I have not seen enough of its wonder, and its loveliness. Peril there is to be found here, and heartbreak as well - that I know from bitter experience. But with pain is mingled the thrill of life, as some of the Secondborn know better than my kin. As for me, I would remain upon these lands until I tire of them, which is still a thing unimaginable. And perhaps I shall come across some sign of my errant brother - though it has been long since he was lost, the fëar of the Eldar can withstand the tempests of time. If only I were a warrior or hunter, I would have sought him in the wild as soon as I was able. But instead my bitter lot through the years has been to watch and hope, and then to lament as hope faded, and now to wish even for a token of his passing, if it has happened. The memory of the Eldar is long, though I do not know if that can be counted a blessing any more; for I remember his face is as clearly as the day he was lost, smiling with all the roguishness of youth. But it is not my place to despair; stranger things have happened in the days of old than a lost brother returning home.
Enough of these melancholic ramblings - I must have been spending too much time perusing histories from the First Age again. I am presently in Imladris, returned from my second errand to Lindon. I have taken the Oath to Bar-en-Vanimar, and am now glad to call them my kinsmen. I have found a new home among the people of Vanimar, and even some whom I can call dear friends. But even now, I must watch and wait and hope, for a company of my kinsmen are braving the wilds, searching for a lost member of the Hammer by the name of Themodir. Yet the wait is eased among friends, and sorrow is lessened when in the company of others - or of my books, for that matter.
