May 26
I cannot state that I particularly like Hrimbarg all that much; it is cold, it is cramped, there is no feasting like in Imladris, there is a musty smell, and all of that makes me want to write very little. But I will take my fingers from my gloves a moment, so my journaling shan’t fall too far behind.
I still love my company! The walk here was safe, and though we are in very close quarters, I have not yet grown annoyed (we shall see if that changes).
One afternoon was spent outside (why, I do not know, for it was snowing). Bitty Bíld had the idea for us to do some storytelling and we all got in a round — but this was atypical, for each of us had to make up a sentence or two of the tale in turns! It was a fun game, and “The Terrible Tale of Misty Frostbeard” was created, — was it ‘Minty’ or ‘Misty’? I cannot recall — but it went about as well as one would expect from a queer group such as us. Bíld made it enchanting, M. Huldaur put in romance, Maurr made sure to insert rippling muscles and wrestling…
All in all, it was very good. And, again unexpectedly, M. Hrofur came upon us! That was pleasant, too.
Yesterday, I was also finally able to get Maurr alone again, so I could tell him the auspicious news from Mrs. Lumina and also show him my mother’s letter. Both made him very joyful, and — he is considering crafting a letter of his own, so he can introduce himself properly to Marlynn. And he’s considering us traveling even further, to the Hills, to see my parents on this trip, if we are able and his father is well. I am not entirely opposed to the idea, but We will see how things go.
Addie, Ryn, and Finchley are still in my thoughts, and I try to send them silent well-wishes whenever I have a moment.
~~~~~
[Here follows pressed herbs and flowers (and, unintentionally, crumbs) between several pages, their names pencilled beneath in small script. Finally another entry starts, after these.]
Jun. 7
The Meadhollow is unlike anywhere I have been! The plants and wildlife are both beautiful and interesting — though the folk here are very gruff, and had little patience for my inquiring after such things. And the bees! If only I had a giant jar that I could keep one in... but, alas, I would not be so foolish to ever attempt that, nor do I think our hosts would be pleased.
Though, yes, it is only by some strokes of luck that we are allowed to rest here. Master Silwë seems to have familiar ties with the patriarch, and Bíld found one of their chickens lost outside their gates, to which he brought home safely. Really, the reception was not warm — we were going to pause elsewhere, but the Men there were far worse, not even letting us stop! — but it seems that doing some homely chores has earned us a bit of time here.
A Miss Kathvin is primarily the Woman who has been telling us all what to do. Bíld and I first attempted to wrangle goats and chickens back into their respective pens and coops, which was fairly a disaster. I think it entertained the Miss, though.
~~~~~~
Jun. 15
We were allowed a small farewell feast this evening, which was as delicious as everything grown in these lands. Of course, Maurr has been sulking a bit, despite his enjoyment over the laborious chores, because there is a great prohibition on eating meat, here.
I think Ms. Kathvin just may have warmed up to us, intimidating as she was. She gave our whole company a single loaf of honey-cake, which is far more than I expected, anyhow!
We leave first thing in the morning for the Mirkwood, which I do not anticipate with excitement. There is a deep dread in my heart, and if it were not for the experienced Elves in our party and our need to be hasty, I would staunchly encourage us to go completely around that awful place.
~~~~~
[Stilted, uneven hand. Any underlinings dig hard into this page.]
Jun. 19
Horrible, dreadful, detestable, wretched, journey — every part! I knew going through here would be idiotic, and yet we still did! We had to, I understand, though I still knew it was a bad idea!
Atrocious spiders!
Maurr was hurt. He has been dealt an antidote but I still cannot sit still or be comforted, until I don’t know, until he feels better. He will survive — but right now he is unhappy and in pain and I can hardly leave his side. Beetle will not stop trying to lie on him and lick his face, attempting to help. My ministrations as a healer only go so far, and while the Elves seem to have it handled, I am concerned. I am more concerned as Maurr’s dearest beloved companion rather than as his doctor.
Terrible place. Abominable.
~~~~~
[The script returns to normal, and there is even a new bloom pressed between the pages.]
Jun. 25
I have calmed down, and I look upon my previous words with a little bit of embarrassment. (But only a little bit, for they were warranted).
Felegoth truly is a beautiful place, though it took me some time yet to notice that. I should feel blessed, even, that we are allowed here — few Dwarves can boast that they’ve walked within the Elvenking’s halls! We are allowed to see a fine deal of it, though I imagine they wish us not to venture too far or too deeply (lest we find the wine cellars). Fortunate again are we to have had M. Celebrinnir (I have learned to spell it) and M. Silwë escorting us.
Though I really would have rather that Maurr not get hurt at all than give us a good reason to be allowed in here. — He was hurt, I should note, because he and Finnric and Bíld strayed from the path to rescue a little raven. I do not admonish that, and it was a brave thing. The raven is well, too, though Mänik has been a little rude to them.
In even brighter news: Lady Nínimil (I have learned there should be an accent mark, probably) arrived to see us in time, before our departure. I am sure that she caught me stealing a flower from the grand gardens, but she was courteous enough to not mention or allude to it. She was gladdened to visit with us all, and we her, for her presence is always welcoming and genial.
~~~~~
Jun. 28
Tomorrow morning we leave for Dale. Maurr should be fit enough to ride, though I notice his little quirks and his pretending not to still be tender with his wound. I’ve no doubt it continues to pain him, if marginally; a bite from a spider so large as the ones here is nothing to scoff at. I think he should pace behind with me but he shall be in the front party again, with Bíld, L. Arlis, and M. Celebrinnir this time.
It will be fine. The rest of our trip shall be safe, I know. I have to reassure myself of it.
~~~~~
Jul. 4
I was correct, thankfully. Of course! My spirits are the highest they have been! I write this now in the morning, just after a large, late breakfast — I’m sitting by the market-place of Dale, watching the comings-and-goings, the folk selling their fresh vegetables, toys, and other trinkets/goods. And I feel like writing a little.
I did have an odd dream — more like a nightmare, actually — last night, and I shiver to think of it now! I was wedded to an Elf-lady (who I hardly knew, nor did I recognize her)! None of my company was to be found anywhere, except for Bíld, who was stressed and did not like anything about it, not one bit. And then I was a random Man, with hardly a proper beard, and the Elf-lady came home, but she turned out to be a bloody, oozing monster who was simply in a beautiful disguise!
That was not a very fun dream, and in the very beginnings of my stirring awake, before realizing none of it truly happened, I wanted to find Bíld and make sure it wasn’t so!
But: Bíld is not here, nor is anyone else. They have carried on to Erebor while Beetle and I tarry in Dale for several days more yet. This has always been the plan, and I’ve been greatly enjoying visiting with my folk here!
*Maeve is well, as is her daughter. Their home is little changed (maybe it is messier now) but Lee has grown so much! I remember her as two, and now she will be five in just a few months. Maeve is little changed as well, though she has let her hair grow, and she seems more at ease with life, in a way.
*Declann is still a bridge-guard, and he is still happy with his wife & son. Nolann is still happy making toys, but he has not found a wife (nor does he wish to).
*The parents of those three appear older than I recall, but I cannot be too saddened; there was much delight at our reunion. It is jarring, though, to remember those names as smaller and younger than they are and be reminded that they are grown, but I smile to see them and hear how their lives have continued since I’ve been away.
It is both something to rejoice and be quietly pensive over.
I often wonder how Maurr and his family are in the mountain, despite the fun I am having here. I hope their visiting and news-relaying has gone smooth. My family wishes to become acqainted with the Dwarves (and Elves, and Hobbit) that I speak so oft of!
Though I am nervous, as well. Less for Maurr to meet mine, more for me to meet his. His parents… I fear to earn their dislike or mistrust. He has reassured me countless times that all shall be well, and yet I’ve a sinking feeling in my stomach about it.
— Yet, lo, that may be because there is now a stall selling pastries nearby, and I think I should grab one or two. Or maybe three.
