Elrond

The flow of the Bruinen was but a gentle trickling thing here at the fjording of the valley. In comparison, a roaring tempest tore through Elrond’s mind. He had gone on ahead of his army, thinking time alone would calm his mind, and his mood. He could not escape the thought that his kin marched toward a meat-grinder, and that their bright armour would soon to be stained by the ruin being wrought across Eregion. 

OOC – Author’s Note:

OOC – Author’s Note:

OOC – Author’s Note:

Unlike the regions surrounding it, Rivendell appeared to have been sheltered from the darkness out of Angmar. As the Company entered into the valley, they found the biting cold of the harsh winter subsiding the further they descended down the path. When they reached the bottom, there was but a thin sprinkling of snow upon the ground. No trace of ice could be seen within the flowing streams or the majestic waterfalls which fed them.

Continued from : Wanderings: Return to Cuivienan

I had been sitting on the incline outside the hall. The early evening was a fair one, the stars still a promise below the horizon. It was not as warm as of late. The season was turning, but slowly, gracefully. I had come from speaking with Filignil about our stores for winter, as well as Parnard’s plans for the Autumn Festival. She understood my wish for the latter. Parnard was far from home.

Thibinoriel, Celebthondil, and members of their family sat comfortably at their dining table as they broke their fast. Suddenly, there came a knock at the door which Thibinoriel answered. It was a messenger bearing a note from Lady Galadriel. Thibinoriel thanked the messenger and placed a small green gem in his hand. She carefully opened the note and began to silently read it. When she had finished she returned to the dining table to share the news.