Orithil, 62 Laer
Another new journal. This one was made here, beautifully bound in the leather cover of my old journal, which Sergelon is keeping for me. I can smell the scent of Imladris on the pages, a warmth like summer that I hope stays.
It feels strange to be here without a pressing duty to perform. I was seldom rushed when I carried messages here, and I was seldom urged to return without staying and enjoying myself. But now I have brought my last message here - for the time being, at least - and here I have been released. So I remain, beginning to understand what it is to live in Imladris. To understand what it feels like to be one of those who call this place home.
I met a strange warrior last week, a Caun of Vanimar, one of the armed companies of Imladris. I knew that there were warriors here, but I think I must have assumed that any that remained were isolated. Like me. Individuals sent out to do what they can. That is our story now, is it not? Elrond can no longer field armies. Cirdan can no longer field armies. But this Tindir leads something inbetween. I barely spoke to him, but I will admit that the idea gives me hope. What can this Vanimar do? Little, I suppose. But more than a single person. And if there are more companies like this...
To bookmark this, I also met a man here. A group of men and women. Horse-men from Rohan, beyond Isengard. One, in particular, I have grown close to. Bren, a future lord of them. He is old by the measure of men, with sons who have sons, and his mind is curious. He could not explain to me what brought them here to Imladris, so far from their home, but they waited now while their captain recovered from a wound he had taken. He is a strange one, though. He is destined to lead, but he resists it, and he resists the idea that he would resist. He is convinced his life will change when he returns and takes up his role as lord - and he is not wrong. But he is also convinced of what the shape of that life will be, and he despairs. It has been a long time since I have spent any time in the company of men, and I forget how different they are.
He plans to lead his people into Eregion, to the Walls of Moria, and then through the mountain. There are dwarves there again, and I have heard they have opened both sides of the city, but it is not a path I would want to take. Still, I sympathize with their plight, and with their desire to go home. I have agreed to accompany them as far as Moria. There are elves in Eregion again, though only scholars studying the ruins, and I would like to see them. Mostly, though, I do not want to see Bren come to a bad end.
