The dark-haired Avari reclined on a small, red couch, inside Tham Send. He had a cool glass of wine in his left hand, his smallest finger sticking outwards whilst the rest of his fingers curl around the glass. In his right hand, resting on top of his fingers, is a book. The writing of it curls in the lettering of Quenya. He would take a sip from the glass of wine, placing it down on a small table in reach, using his free hand to turn the page of the book, then picking up the glass of wine again to take a sip, his eyes moving down the page as he reads the words.
The sound of a gentle cough breaks this peacefulness. The Avari looks up, his stormy, grey eyes landing on an ellon with shoulder length, light brown hair, dressed in a blue robe that is neither dark or light in colour.
"Hîr Mornenion. A letter for you." The messenger holds out an envelope, with the elf's name written in the centre. Mornenion puts down the glass of wine on the small side table and closes the book. He then reaches his hand forward to take the envelope from the messenger, who then bows slightly and takes his leave.
Mornenion looks over the envelope, not recognising the handwriting, and then turns it over to break the seal. The wax cracks easily and the elf slides out a single piece of parchment from inside. He looks down at the cursive writing - it is in Westron - and then down to the bottom. It was from Lady Cedwyn. Mornenion respected the baker, as she seemed genuinely nice to him, unlike others, who he felt tolerated him more. Because of that, he decides to read over the letter.
Once he is done, he sighs. He reaches over to his glass of wine, takes a sip, pauses, then drains the whole glass.
"Lorien," Mornenion mutters, switching to the Avari dialect of elvish as he mutters to himself, not wanting others to hear him, as he usually does when he speaks to himself, "They really expect me of all people to get them through Lorien. I have always has strenuous relations with the Lorien elves."
The Avari leans back further on the couch, bringing his hand up to his forehead as if he has a headache. "I was planning to go to Felegoth soon. I suppose I could take a detour to help them."
Mornenion pauses, looking back down at the letter and then waves his hands up into the air in annoyance, "They're going through Moria as well! Of course only they would go through such a dangerous place, even if there is word that the dwarves have mostly reclaimed it."
Several other elves who are resting in Tham Send glance to Mornenion with shock. The Avari forgot where he was and so quickly apologises to them in Sindarin for his outburst. He then folds the letter back up and slides it into the envelope. He stands, muttering to himself once more, thinking aloud, "I suppose I should pack my things. I probably cannot send them a letter, as I don't know where the main group of the Black Steel is. I will go over Caradhras and wait in Nanduhirion for them to get out of Moria."
