High on a flet in Caras Galadhon an Elf maiden could be seen to be sitting at a small writing table, a stack of blank parchments nearby and a quill in hand, but her eyes drifted among the leaves of the mallorn in which the flet was built.  A gentle breeze stirred her hair, a slightly paler gold than the winter leaves above her.  After a time she shifted her gaze back to the parchment, then, seeming to make a decision, she began to write.

I am Geillin to most who know me, though long ago the Dwarves of Nogrod called me Kal Zukoot as nearly as I can set down the sound from their guttural language.  The little Hobbit people who dwelt along the river Anduin named me Salem, which I believe to have been complimentary since most Elves and Men shunned and ignored the little folk when not trying to dominate and exploit them.  And here in Laurelindorenan some name me Mallenavar, the Golden Avari, or Avarrandir, the Avari Wanderer.  But Geillin is the name my mother gave to me, or as close to that name as the Sindarin will translate it.  Geillin is Star Singer, a name my mother chose when she noticed I always seemed to gaze upward to the stars when the people gathered for songs and the telling of stories, and she pronounced it “Gail-in” in our language which was the root from which the Sindarin grew.

A minstrel who often holds forth in the Hall of Fire within the house of Elrond Half-elven once told me that a story should always start at the beginning.  Though I have no doubt this is indeed sound advice, I will nonetheless begin this at the end by way of explaining my purpose for writing.

Nay, the end has finality to it that I hope fervently lies somewhere far ahead in the mists of time.  Let me say rather that I am starting at the ending of the current chapter of my tale.  What lies ahead in the next chapters I cannot fathom, and if the Lady Galadriel knows she has not said.  However, I do not believe that even she knows my fate, and yet it is she who suggested I write this brief history of my long life so far.

I truly do not know her reason for asking me to do this, for as the reader will soon discover I am not one of the great ones among the Eldar, nor did I witness the great events in our world’s history that are the fodder of heroic tales, sad though the endings of those tales may be.  Nonetheless, I have given my allegiance to the Lady for well over a thousand years of the world as they are now counted, and if she wishes my tale set to paper, it shall be done.

I suppose that in two respects I am at least somewhat unusual, and perhaps the Lady feels that these will be sufficient to make my tale of interest to some.  The first of these is the fact that I have lived a very long time and witnessed many changes that have come to our world, though as I said I was not a part of any of the deeds that are now deemed worthy of song, and perhaps that alone helps somewhat to explain my longevity. 

The other possibly interesting characteristic is that I was born of the people who refused the call of the Valar and who are now named the Avari, or sometimes by the Nolder we are referred to as Dark Elves.  There are, or at least were, many Avari in the world, but unlike myself, most tend not to wander, often becoming tightly bound to a particular glade, or pool and seldom leaving that immediate area.  Perhaps it was this general tendency that initially led them to refuse the call of the Valar into the West.  Nonetheless, as the reader shall see, I became a wanderer and through the ages of the world I have seldom made one place my home for any appreciable time before coming to Laurelindorenan and finding that the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had made it their home.

After penning this brief introduction the Elf again paused, her gaze unfocused as she reached back through her long memory and saw again the sights and heard again the sounds of her childhood.  The quill rested forgotten in her hand as she recalled those days and a tear quietly formed and rolled down her left cheek.  Dabbing it away with a finger she again began to write:

Chronicle #1 - Youth, Love, and Life Under the Stars

Chronicle #2 - The Moon, the Sun, the Nolder and the Return of Evil