Elves

I am troubled.

Lorien is more than I could have imagined. The City of Caras Galadhon so overwhelmed me that, I admit, I quickly fled to the Vineyards.

I could not write much during my passage over the mountains. Suffice it to say the trip was brutal and cold, the landscape stark and mostly hidden by falling snow, and I am shocked that I was not attacked by more than a few stray goblins and bears.

Duarion tugged at the material of his dark, grey and slightly muddy cloak. He felt comfortable with his shadowy appearance, although some might mistake him for a brigand or thief. It was useful for moving unseen, not to mention recalling some of the sable materials of the armies of Gondor, his home.

"Are you ready?" an elf called from the door.

Glancing over at his sleeping wife, he bent over and gave her a gentle kiss. "I'll be back soon, my dear," he whispered.

Our Lord Anglachelm was a mighty lord of the Hidden City of Gondolin of the Seven Fountains, that known as the Stone House, the Secret Place, the beautiful Flower of Tumladen, that Lily-of-the-Valley of the Ancient Realm of Beleriand, and though it is no more, he led a remnant of his people away, before its utter destruction, and helped found the Ancient House of Vanimar.

Today was the day of the Celondim dance - I think it went well. Or at least I hope so, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves as much as I did. We had wine and ale, listened to the music of Shire Rose, Miss Took and her brother. They were absolutely wonderful and those who I imagine wouldn't usually dance did joyfully!

There being no way to cross the fords of the Isen, because of the invasion of Men, it was determined by Lord Veryacano that we would make our own crossing, and he bravely waded into its icy waters to secure a rope bridge. The River Isen is large and swift-flowing; and it was with great difficulty Lord Veryacano got through it: sometimes he would be in the waters up to his neck, but by good fortune, and his mighty strength, he was able to cross over.