vallandur's camp

At dawn today I came over the low hills to Vallandur's camp, to see the lake spread north before me, the waters still iron dark - as yet untouched by the rising sun. What joy! My memories of him rose in me, like a flooding spring, of all the days I have spent by this lake... There is the old bee-tree, where my beesongs failed and we had to take a swift refuge in the lake from their stings... There is the warm rock where we sat, as the truth of his gift to me unravelled in my hands ... There is the waving sweet grassland where he first permitted me to touch the lines of care on his face... There... There... There.. And now, in the camp as I look down secluded from their sight, are some poor travelling folk. Some benevolence of his presence, some air of safety lingers here; easing their cares, the demense of a kind and just lord. Or perhaps they are drawn to the fresh water and the hollow of the land. That is what he would say, what he always says, in his humility. I will leave them undisturbed. I had hoped to wait until Randir and Araenion joined me, but I will move on, around the lake towards the north. And I will write to him, leave it in one of his hidden places ... it is too long since we met, Star of the North.