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I finally finished this after about half a year and, listen, it has Hravanis in it it's relevant. There was a period of time where she was assigned to Maedhros' retinue.
You might find these old bastards if you were to join the elves in the Hall of Fire of a wednesday. It might be entertaining to watch the antics they can conjure and the incessant taunting they rain upon each other, but I swear, you could not find better friends. You couldn't find many things Hravanis wouldn't do for Silwe.
The feast was hosted by Morengwen who made sure her guests were well fed with the finest the vale had to offer and also wine from the fabled cellars of Imladris. Many of the guests took turns to entrace those in attendance with their music and song.
[Enfolded with this letter is a flower of a sort that grows not in Men's lands, shed naturally from its vine before being pressed and dried; in appearance it resembles a bundle of dainty traveler's-joy but blue in color.]
Bíld son of Bóurr to Maddoct son of Haddoct, cheerful and affectionate greeting.
Hope has come at last, in the shape of a Dúnadan Woman from the north. Her name is Artewen and she gives me, for the first time since Lindon, hope that my husband’s brother yet lives.
I must scrawl this in haste, but the bandit-camp in the Arnorian ruin is as deserted as sunken Beleriand. More, a tall ellon calling himself “Alice” (note to self, that is a female’s name) returned to that horrible inn with the hole in the roof.
“Bu-but, no one else is fit for the role. Isn't it my duty to put my personal feelings aside for the whole battalion? What if no one else volunteers? Am I the only option? Am I fit?"