[The handwriting begins shakily, but smooths out over time.]
Oct. 6
My nagging feeling was answered.
I knew something would occur, I did. After Lincoln told me about his damned debt, I knew. He wouldn’t let me help him. I tried. I was scared, so terribly scared, he wouldn’t let me help. I couldn’t help Ramsay and he died. Lincoln wouldn’t let me help him. Debt is not something to be hurt for, made a criminal for, be manipulated for.
Addie kicked the hornet's nest. Kithri is gone. Threats are hanging in the air. Nobody deserves this. I can’t sleep, I can’t keep myself from crying. I try to appear as normal but those who know me have been able to spot the weariness. Addie was worse, probably eating little, blaming herself. I blame myself for not being more stubborn with assisting Lincoln; if I had just done that, managed to do one thing correctly in my idiotic existence, then none of this would have gone awry.
Maurr extended an offer to stay at my home during this time. I accepted. I dislike him sleeping in a nest on the floor (though comfortable it does look) but he would refuse any suggestion of letting him have the bed. I didn’t realize how fulfilling it is to inhabit a space with ano[There is a large stain here from some tavern food.]mply hosting a raven made my days brighter, and Maurr does that tenfold despite their current darkness. He is a salve to my emotions' pain and he staves off fear and loneliness.
I just met a Dwarrowdam by the name of Dinura; she caused me to drop my fork on the page. She said Kithri spoke highly of my craft, and she saw example of my jewelry work. She said she wanted to discuss with me more about gems and the setting of them, which just left me flushed and embarrassed (as most things do).
I received a letter from Bíld the other day. His prose made me cry. His sentiments more so. I don’t know what to reply, nor how much information to say. I will ask Maurr his opinion.
Regarding patients:
*Master Yurri is old. It brings tears to my eyes to think it. He is in denial and upset about his fragility. He was angry at me for being so blunt of his condition; perhaps that was wrong of me to say, "He's old", but I am having difficulties keeping tactful as of late. He even grabbed the front of my shirt to bring me close and chide me. I couldn’t find the energy to be fearful.
*Maurr helped me bring Liffey back. I was going to write to her before doing so, but thought she may argue further so I didn’t. Maurr drove the cart and ponies in a most thrilling way; got my blood hot and heart pumping, it did, and I was fearful my hat may blow off in the wind! I had to hold his arm the whole way as we hit bumps and jostled about. But, thankfully, he was nothing but a gentle driver on the return route, giving dear Liffey a smooth ride for her ribs. I appreciate that of Maurr; his ability to be both bold and daring, but then tender when it’s necessary. Liffey will be alright, as long as she rests well and keeps proper care of it. I’ll check on her again soon.
*Maurr tried on his wrist. I keep writing about him, I know, but I have been spending an extraordinarily large amount of time with him so I have much to say. He tried it on (though I had forgotten it was finished. First it simply slipped my mind every time I saw him, because his presence overall makes me forget everything, and then this mess began). We shared a drink. He tried it on after I had to do much searching through my messy home (it was in my sock drawer all the while). My fears that he would dislike it, or that it would need major adjustments, were dashed by his kindness and comfort with it and that it fit near perfectly thanks to my previous meticulous measurements. He had it sleep beside him, even, which must be good. Of course, I will be needing it back to compare with the attachments, but for now I will let him keep it. Overall, I felt content last night. Maurr makes me content.
A note was slipped beneath my door as we slept. Maurr will be going tonight; I was urged to stay and prepare supplies for those who may be injured or hungry. I feel a coward. I am a coward. Now I must wait, and it’s agonizing. I hope they stay safe. Please let them stay safe.
~~~~~
Oct. 7
They returned last night. Kithri’s condition was very poor, but I felt more glad at her return and recovery than sad for it (though my sadness is great and still brought tears to my eyes). Lady Ceci Cesit Cises The Pony’s Elf and I helped her wounds. Her athelas salve was interesting; I have hardly worked with that plant. It smells of wet stone and flint. The group was not able to recover Lincoln, and his condition is apparently at least as bad or worse as the Hobbit's. I didn’t want to ask all the specifics of the meeting; I couldn’t. I will later. Maurr and I took Kithri to rest at my home.
Hopefully it will not be stormed by Master Okrog and Lady Dinura (who is apparently close with M. Okrog); I’m not sure how many dwarves can fit inside the little apartment. I’m not sure how long Kithri will be staying here or if they will take her to stay elsewhere in Bree (she will not, under any circumstances, be traveling to the mountains at this time). I must not forget, once she is recovered, to give her that note I was given. I write this now under the light of morning at my window-desk, and we shall see if there comes a knocking at my door soon. Maurr gave M. Okrog my address on a note while that Dwarf slept in the Scholar’s Archives (I cannot blame him for being weary).
Maurr is a Dwarf that surprises me with each and every passing day. He and I shared the Blackburrowberrybrew (I forgot to keep count of the cups) as Kithri rested in my bed (I will have to wash the sheets, for she is still dirty). At one moment, my astonishment over Maurr and I’s conversation was so great that I held the tap open much longer than my cup was filled. Now my floor and corner of my carpet is sticky.
Maurr is not daft, but he is sometimes stupid. Not in a dimwitted way, but he is oblivious. Though he manages with it in a way that is charming, and that I don’t mind telling him the obvious sorts of things. He seems to have been shaken and I only hope that he is able to come with terms easily. Somehow, despite not knowing that vital piece of information, he is still more knowledgeable and experienced in the topic than I am.
He is sometimes peculiar. I adore him.
We were up late, late, but not too late that it was light before we slept. I laid beside him on the floor at the fire, wrapped up in a quilt (it was not as uncomfortable as I thought it may be).
For now, I suppose, I wait. To see how Kithri fares as I keep vigilant on her health (she enjoyed the stew I made!), to see how Maurr handles his new knowledge, and to see if two Dwarves break my door to see Kithri. I hope not.
*Once when I was a lad, I told my father that I felt like an idiot, and this was his advice to me: “One can be an idiot without being ignorant. But, son, you’re dead from the neck up; best learn that now.”
