I can't remember how long it's been since I first started trying to find companions to share the road over the High Pass and to the Mark, or at least part of that journey. I recall Miss Tylva's harsh dismissal of the idea, and Miss Sareva's offer to take note if any of her customers were securing garments for a similar trip, but how long ago was that? And in all that time, there's been nothing more than a few off-hand expressions of interest by people who weren't even sure they meant to go at all. I'd resigned myself to the idea of taking the road on my own. With, therefore, a much higher chance of being overwhelmed by the danger, but at least I wouldn't be exposing anyone else to that danger.
While the journey remains shrouded in uncertainties -- how I will pay the tolls, how I can return without Kestrel or another horse, what will come of my report to the Thane, and more -- everything has changed, because I now have at least one, perhaps two, companions with a firm interest in sharing the journey.
Miss Adriellyn means to see the High Pass, and the Dwimordene, and the Riddermark, and beyond, even into Gondor as far as a city she calls Dol Amroth; and she means to go with me -- or I with her -- with spring's melt. She is a skilled scout and far more capable in facing the perils of the road than I will likely ever be; you might not think it to see her, as she's scarcely as tall as my youngest sister and slim as a spring sapling, but she spends most of her time on the road, and bears many scars that tell stories of her adventures. But unlike Miss Tylva, Miss Adriellyn finds some small value in my companionship on this road: that I have travelled much more of it than she has, and know both the places and the people.
There is also a woman named Miss Shuiriel recently arrived from Gondor, who has set out to see faraway lands and research both settlements and ruins, for scholarly reasons that go beyond what my poor addled wits can measure. I showed her some of the ruins in Bree and she took a surprising amount of interest in old stones. She hopes to join the journey as well, and while her interest is strong, it remains to be seen how prepared she might be for the hardships and perils. I don't even know if she has a horse!
She also hopes to journey to Imladris when Miss Adri takes me there, but that's far more uncertain. Miss Adri has asked specifically if I, with my Elf-craft leaf, would be permitted the honor and privilege of seeing the Hidden Valley, and I imagine even asking is something that she risks some of her own standing on; the Elves there would not take kindly if she started seeking to bring many people. Could she bring this Gondorian woman who neither she nor I really knows at all? I suspect she is reluctant to even consider the question, and I hope Miss Shuiriel will not be too cross if it turns out that she cannot be made welcome, at least for now.
And it is indeed now, since Miss Adri says we will likely depart soon, perhaps as soon as I can speak to Miss Brynleigh about it. (She is recently returned, but immediately took ill, so I've yet to see her. Poor Miss Brynleigh, she was so looking forward to Hookworth Harvest Home, rushed home to arrive in time for it, then was too ill to attend!)
I am increasingly anxious about the visit to Imladris. Not about the journey, for I am confident Miss Adri will see me there safely. But that she has learned they will permit me to enter does not make me sure that once I am there I will know how to ask the right questions, or that if they wish payment for assisting me, I will be able to pay. At Hookworth Harvest Home, I tried the term I'd learned from Miss Adri, híril nîn, to address an Elf-maid who was there; but she took grave offense at the term, and I think at my poor pronunciation. It makes me wonder what other transgressions I won't even know I'm making. And that's with Miss Adri, who is a regular visitor there and well-known, to introduce me. What then in Dwimordene, the Golden Wood whose Witch is oft rumored to bewitch the strongest of men, when I have no guide and no better invitation than a single carved leaf? The very idea of it drives me to such anxiety as to make me want to chop wood for an afternoon, singing loud enough to drive away thunderstorms; but I must nevertheless attempt the visit. I cannot tell the Thane that I had a means to pursue what I was sent to do, and chose not to act on it.
All this, of course, assumes I have a means to pay the tolls of the Beornings when we cross the High Pass, for without that, the journey will never happen. My purse remains lighter than it has been since my arrival in Bree, and while I am in charge of the Hookworth stables, I cannot seek other work. I have this tarnished, bent pendant from Framsburg that I had imagined I might clean and fix so I could present it to the Thane as a token of our history, to soften the blow of not having found the lantern. But the more I think about it, the more foolish that seems; I can imagine it as being almost an insult. I was sent to find an ancient lantern with a power beyond understanding, capable of saving the Prince from the cursed hand of fate, and instead I present a bent trinket of no greater value than to say it slumbered under stone for five hundreds of years? It will seem as if I seek by cunning and deception to avoid the truth of my failure, and its consequence, that I make light of the importance of my charge.
Whereas, if I sold it, that might provide some headway to the coin I need for the journey. Miss Adri told me of a jewel-crafter of her acquaintance named Miss Drel who can assess what it might take to repair it; and Miss Narys gave me a silver piece to spend on having that assessment done, though Miss Adri says Miss Drel won't ask for it, so I'll return it to Miss Narys if so. When I meet this Miss Drel, I will ask her what value it might have if I sold it instead. Though it is tarnished and bent and dented and broken, it might be of some additional value for its place in history, what the scholars in Dale called "provenance" -- at least I think that's what that meant.
So, unless it proves to be worth too little to be worth selling, I will use it to fill my purse as best it can, and make a start on being able to pay my way over the High Pass. And on to whatever lies ahead. Perhaps the Thane will grant me leave to go on, and I will continue with Miss Adri to Dol Amroth and see whatever wonders the people of Gondor have; and then return with her, and Miss Shuiriel, should she not choose to remain back in her homeland. On what horse I cannot begin to imagine, but there are so many sunrises between now and that day, not even the wisest can guess what will fill them.
