She let her brow rest on her forearm and looked at the ornate table from close enough to see every detail of the wood. She was not as much tired as she was in doubt on what to do next, even she tried to put this research hours outside her usual schedule not to attract any attention. Not that potions were not an old interest of hers or anyone cared much for her schedule. This benevolent people got used to her trips to Eregion to search news if Cridamir eventually returned or anything new on the other missing Vanimarians, with no luck in months. She usually was not going further then Gwingris and she was quite aware this trips were not of much use: if news reached there then they would have reached Imladis by themselves as well with the first traveler or emissary.
She could easily do not stop at Gwingris next time. She would be out of reach before anyone wondered about her delay and she was herself good enough at passing unseen if needed as many of her race. You can’t find a elf that does not want to be found in the wilds they say.
But further then Eregion… She feared the very thought of the underground maze of stone where sun or stars could not follow her with their light. Was indeed a good place to hide for one who does not value his life much. She has seen herself the results of the life there written with goblin blades on the face of her friend. How many must they had been…
But was there anyone she could turn for advice or at least a word of encouragement? Tur Anglachelm? No way, not after his attitude in the only discussion mentioning her search for Daelith –and then it was with the approval of Veryacano as Tur at the time. Lord Veryacano? She did not like him much and had a pretty good idea he likes her even less after constantly trying to change his mind when his decisions seemed of exaggerated severity. Then again the decision to banish Daelith was the only one she made him change. He cared much for sure about his friend of ages.. Arasinya? Not if she did not want a whole pack of Elenol clan on her trail to “protect her” ruining any chance of success for her expedition. Earinlin? He did not disobey a order of the Tur for his own happiness for a stranger she would not expect him even to remain quiet about all this if he ever found out. And dear Amorith , she smiled at the thought of her friend, she could not help anyway, almost as young and with as little experience about that awful place. Better let her enjoy her love and time of happiness.. Was she that lonely? Well she was.. with the rest of the Vanimarians she rarely talked more then the polite “how beautiful is this song”, “a wonderfull vintage”. The only option remaining was the grumpy statue of severity, Veryacano, that or tell no one.
But in the end how complicated could all be? She could only take the backpack she used for food usually with potions instead and hunt for food on the way, surviving in the wilds was no issue. And some blankets.. A certain depressed elf could ignore comfort but she preferred not sleeping on rock if she had a choice. And once there the naugrim would probably help with directions. And how many elves could be roaming that awful place? Once the news spread on her searching with obstination someone she was pretty sure that someone would show up rather then leave her face alone all the dangers of the place alone. He’d not appreciate his hand forced like this but there was time to solve that after.
Several months of correct tending to those wounds and care should get them to heal to a decent degree and equal time of friendly words of comfort should for the same to the soul. As it should have been from the start, she frowns slightly. In years only the worst of those wounds will leave a mark and only the deepest sadness would find its way to surface again in the worst of days, but this was about as much as there was hope for. And then she could try to convince him to return. Truth be told the influence of a benevolent Veryacano would make a lot easier that moment for Daelith. Would that worth the risk of talking to him from now?
She rises her eyes and meets the pile of paper spread on top of a exceptionally crafted leather envelope that would protect them even from water or fire. Separate from the main pile is a index of sorts mentioning the recipes for potions and their use.
- Amaranth watter – cleaning the wounds and stopping the malice to spread
- Celebrant basil and celandine ointment – helps healed wounds not leave traces
- Niphredil and Elanor extract - rises the spirit, makes one more optimistic
- ...
The list continues for about three quarters of the page, few of the titles are underlined as a decision those are the best options.
