[This entry is written in Sindarin in a small leather-bound book.]
Fastfara has grown so swiftly and I can hardly recall how it happened. It seems just yesterday he was but an elfling, lighting up the rooms of the Homely House with his laughter. It did everyone here good to see the joy of a child of our people. I fear they are rarer and rarer in these darkening days. And now he is grown, and still he lights up our home, Aeth and I's. But there is also something else there, the knowledge of a world that is broken. A longing to fix it. Oh, I would keep him from it if I could, for I know there is little reward for the good deeds he wants to do. I wish that we could keep him safe always, but I know the time in which I can sway his course his coming to a close.
Celareth wants to leave, and I fear he will run off with her. I sleep restlessly, haunted by the thought of putting his life in her hands. Though we have moved away from our painful past together, I still fear she will fail again; She knows I think of Luiniel every time I look at her. It is selfish, but I wish that she would sneak away in the night and leave my family be; leave us be of the memories of Mirkwood that she brings with her. But Fastfara has grown so fond of her, I doubt our lives will ever be completely rid of her.
I just want my son to be safe; he is not helpless, but if he decided to venture out into the world alone, then I fear that Aeth and I will be helpless to stop him.
