Tingruviel

Daeruth sighed, studying the dark gem was exceedingly taxing, and she could feel an enormous headache coming on.
She sighed again and set down the tool she was using, all her experiments on the gem told her it was a dangerous thing to possess, of all the experiments she performed the last was the most intriguing.

Daeruth felt as though she had become useful again, since being ostracised for mushroom picking and accused of treasure seeking in some ruins that scout Filegris asked her to stay away from, Hiril Tingruviel had requested she attend Lady Ealendil and Master Maedhrathin at the old school of Mirobel, the pair were wed and Daeruth let them chatter about inconsequential things while she studied the scraps of old knowledge for anything of interest, seperating to cover more area each spent time making notes, moving further into what she assumed was an old master's room or assembly h

Daeruth is sitting at her desk waiting with her usual infinite patience for the Hiril Tingruviel to arrive at the Hall of the Pillar, the apprentice that had taken her note and told Daeruth the meeting time had made themselves scarce knowing that eavesdropping on the conversations of Daeruth could end badly.

Rain slowly, gently falling onto the rooftop. Drip, drip, drip... the window was kept wide open in the hopes of at least a slight breeze, but there would be no wind in sight on this hot summers eve. It was dark already, as if someone had put a warm, wet blanket all over Imladris. From the window, one could see some lanterns still lit along the paths up to the Last Homely House. She would note guests coming and going long into the night. Some of the kin were most likely gathered in the Hall of Fire again, enjoying light music and good wine. Like most nights, those delights were denied her.

My dearest Eliriael,

Knock, knock, knock. The tough wooden door made a ringing sound in the otherwise bare stone tower. It smelled like dust, as if very few would visit this part of the Pillar hall. It would be a correct assumption, of course. Hardly anyone would be let in to see the swallows, owls or hawks kept within, but its very dedicated keeper. Which seemed to not be in at the moment.

So many departures. They knew that this day would come, that they would have to be prepared. It still made her wonder, despite their training, were the Fountaineers ready for this? As she left the Pillar hall, her conversation with Tingruviel still rung in her ears.

A clean cloth. Or what used to be a clean cloth. It was now covered with dust. The whole room smelled like distant memories, as if someone had not occupied the space for a long time. And it was true. It had stood empty for a while now.

She had taken it upon herself to clean it, as it felt like desecration of a holy place to let someone else in. She knew it was folly, of course. The lady Danel had left for the Havens, and would not return. But the idea that she might one day reappear kept Tingruviel busy tidying the space.