Far above, the stars shine – tiny pinpricks of light in the silent night. I take a deep breath, savouring the freshness of the air. The silence is broken only by a soft breeze that stirs the leaves above me, whispering through the trees. It is a welcome moment of peace – I am overjoyed to be among my friends once more, but still I find myself seeking moments of solitude and quiet: moments in which to reflect on all that has happened.
The storm has broken, and though I scarcely dared hope it, we are free, and unharmed. I cannot say that any of us has escaped unscathed. Compared to what I feared, the punishments given to both Lady Isoldis and Galdorion seem light: she will see no respite from her confinement to Imladris, and he will join her in that confinement. The verdict could surely have been far worse... yet even before this Lady Isoldis chafed at her situation. As for Galdorion, can he truly be happy, living here in the valley, away from the forests he loves? For myself... I will stay here, by his side as long as he wishes it – I cannot but feel that this punishment was my doing, it was my foolishness that brought us here.
In truth it should be no punishment to stay – the valley is beautiful, I have many friends who live here or visit often. It was even my home once. So Sidhon tells me, at least – I have no memory of it, although I cannot deny that I feel at peace here. Still... there are times, when I am alone, that the cries of battle echo in my memories, and I find myself wondering how many of those I fought alongside have died since my departure... and how many more will die while I idle here. I do not pretend to have any skill in battle, nor any delusions as to that – I am only one, and could not do much to change the fortunes of those who strive against the darkness. Even the smallest change, however, may do much in such situations. I promised Galdorion that I would not go back – and indeed I have no desire to go back into that darkness. The fear I felt there...
Nonetheless, I cannot deny that it is difficult for me to simply stay here in safety, doing nothing, while I know others fight and die elsewhere. I find myself drifting between occupations, either in the library or elsewhere around the valley, always seeking a distraction from idleness. Even here, under the stars, alone for only a moment, I find my thoughts turn to memories of darkness... and to helplessness.
The breeze stirs the leaves above me once more, and I stand, casting one more look at the stars above. They shine on, patient, unchanging, and I find myself praying for the strength to do the same. I promised Galdorion that I would not leave, and I will not. If only I knew how to bear such a promise lightly.
