Penned in the House of Healing,
In the Realm of Dorwinion.

The days of Quellë have faded, and now has begun the first enquië of the long cold asta of Hrívë; but I have not lain idle during this time, for I have been learning what skills I can that might avail me upon my arduous journey to western Eriador.

Though I was given leave to depart the House of Healing when I had recovered from my hurts, I chose then to remain here, for in my long sojourn within its confines, this House became to me the most blessed of all dwellings in Dorwinion; and so it was in this House I thought to begin my efforts. The healers were glad to offer me instruction in their leechcraft, for the time of the Elder Kindred in Middle-earth is waning, and they would leave some knowledge of their art within Arda ere they take ship along the Straight Road to Aman, the Blessed Realm.

Now by the design of Ilúvatar the Eldalië Eldar are undying, for like the Ainur, they are bound to Arda until its End, and though they are immune to disease, and can recover from wounds that would kill a mortal Man (whom, I have learned, are more frail than my Elven friends, and more easily slain by weapon or mischance, and less easily healed; and are subject to divers sicknesses and many ills), still are the the Edhil sometimes in need of the healer's skills; and from the Narrows of the Forest of Eryn Galen Mirkwood in the north, at times are wounded Northmen brought here to the House of Healing in Dorwinion, and thus do the elven healers know much regarding the treatment of the injuries and ailments suffered by my kin.

And, to my amazement, it seems I have a talent for the healing of both hröa and fëa, which has but strengthened the belief of those who deem I am of the blood of Westernesse.

However, my toil at the forge has been less successful! For although I have learned much about the smelting and refining of ores -- enough, perhaps, to perform such menial tasks in a smithy in the world of Men -- my labours at crafting these metals into blades and tools or jewels, have been ill-fated. I deem that I am better suited to living things than iron, or silver and gold; and the heat and fire of the foundry brought to me unwanted memories of my thraldom in the East. Tanon, the smith, the Forge-master names me in jest!

But despite my failing, I much enjoyed my time with him, for he was among the Gwaith-i-Mírdain in Eregion of old, and his tale of this brotherhood of master craftsmen in the Second Age is of great interest to me. For it was founded by Celebrimbor, son of Curufin son of Fëanor, together with those Noldor of Lindon who removed to Eregion nigh the West Gate of the mines of Durin's Folk at Hadhodrond (which they name Khazad-dûm and is now called Moria, the Dark Chasm); this they did for they learned that mithril had been discovered in Hadhodrond, for the Noldor were great craftsmen and thus had much love for the making of arms and jewels, and were less unfriendly to the Dwarves than the Sindar. And the friendship that grew up between the folk of Durin and the Elven-smiths of Eregion was the closest that there has ever been between the two kindreds. For it was in Casarrondo (as it was named by the Gwaith-i-Mírdain) that the Auleonnar, delved deep into the earth for mithril, that most precious of metals, which when forged was light and yet harder than tempered steel, and the polished beauty of which did not tarnish or grow dim with age. And the Golodhrim of Eregion learned to craft an alloy thereof that they named ithildin, which is visible only by starlight or moonlight and oft adorned hidden gateways and portals; and thus the followers of Celebrimbor became famous for their works of art and craft.

And he was there when the fell host of Sauron descended upon Ost-in-Edhil, chief city of Eregion, during the War of Sauron and the Elves. It was there that the House of the Mírdain had stood for nigh a thousand years, and during the strife that city was utterly destroyed by Sauron's dark forces, but its ruins yet survive into the present Age. Those few who survived found refuge in either Lindon or Lothlórien or Dorwinion, while others led by Elrond Peredhel founded Imladris nigh the Ford of Bruinen, but well hidden in the moorlands and foothills of the Hithaeglir. Again this name of Imladris which I know not... and Elrond son of Eärendil the Mariner, whose sire I well recall from lore carries nightly the Star of Eärendil across the heavens aboard the fairest vessel ever wrought by Círdan the Shipwright, Vingilótë; but of his son, I remember naught.

Alas, poor also is my woodcraft... for Lord Iavasdir bade me to take along a companion upon one of my forest walks, so as to learn stealth and secrecy; and he smiled when he saw my downcast countenance, and he said, "Fear not, Greybeard, for he is an old friend of yours!"

And lo! my guide was the merry young messenger from aforetime, and he was clothed in the green of the Laiquendi. Gladion he is called, and he is well named, for among the trees he is as a sprite of Lórien; disappearing into the green in the blink of an eye, and reappearing with great mirth spread across his small elven face at my bewilderment.
   "Never fear," he laughed, "Though you are not as swift and lithe as this small Laegel in the woods, you need only conjure up a mist of concealment if needs be!" What he meant by this, I knew not, and when I asked him to explain, he wrinkled his nose at me and led me by the hand to Ioriston's library.

   "Ah," said the Lambengolmo, "Of this we have not yet spoken; for none but one has passed unseen across our borders these many years, and that was you on the day you came to us. How you forded the Celeduin I cannot guess, for it's waters are wide and swift is its flowing; but the marchwardens reported an unnatural mist upon its eastern shore that day."
  "You think the Enemy..." I began.
  "Nay, I do not," he replied. "For not all enchantment is evil, and I deem that behind this circumstance there was something else at work!"
   "What else?" I asked, confused amidst my fear.
   "Why, mellon nîn... there is more than one Power at work in Arda!"

"Gladion" portrait courtesy of Holi--Day on DeviantArt. (Yes, it is in reality a wonderful depiction of young Legolas. In my defence, it's extremely difficult to find a picture of a merry young Elf!)