As now the long time of the day start to pass into the rise of the evening when once more the gems of Varda will grace us all with their ever-presence, it is fitting to sit down to reflect. For it seems under the startlight of the night that my thoughts are ever clear and peaceful. Alas there is little news to be had. My beloved Ilviel Is still nowhere to be found, and despite reassurances of her well-being, I still worry. Surely the stars I see on the evening sky she too hopefully looks upon this very moment, and ever I feel close to her, knowing that while we are apart, the stars of Varda are ever watching over us.
This evening is not peaceful however. It certainly is no betrayal, but what I have witnessed lately certainly have spawned thoughts of doubt in my mind. Some days past I arrived here in Imladris, to rest and to seek solice in the lore and in the grass by the river. I did however meet Hiril Rildheldiel In the Hall of Fire, perhaps by chance, for I had the honours of observing quite an artist at work, bringing grace to Hir Elloen's hair. This hairdresser's skill certainly amazed me, and many a detail I observed. Alas this hairdresser is one who is easily persuaded and weak to cohersion. For once Hiril Rildheldiel had her hair tended to, she spoke highly poisonous words into his mind.
A rivalry, an argument perhaps, between her and one other whose name have escaped me. The hairdresser was foolishly persuaded to give Hiril Rildheldiel a recipe for a most dubious potion. One which will cause complete loss of hair on the head of the person exposed to it! Indeed the Hiril's words were coated with honey as she complimented him on his work and skill, yet that of a snake whose persuading voice tricked the mouse to walk willingly inbetween its fangs. In the end however, the Hiril promised she would not use the potion, and I took her word for it.
Alas, a mistake it was. For the next day, during the gathering in the Hall of Fire, I witnessed that which I hoped would not happen, and the potion exchanged hands. It troubles me greatly. Hiril Rildheldiel I have always regarded as one of high esteem and certainly I respect her greatly, but this? Certainly I do not know if it be right to name myself a mellon to her, however, she still broke her word, before my very eyes, also putting a hairdresser's honour and buisness on the line, for the sake of her personal matter. I shall be frank and say it is despicable. She wishes to undertake a travel, one of which I have already sworn to join, which I will. However, when things come to blows, and we must stand against a common foe, how can any word or promise or support be counted as one made of honesty. I should trust in her, but my faith has been shaken, and if she already would sacrifice a mellon and another person's entire life, to gain an upper hand in a rivalry... How then may I trust her as the battle is joined?
These toughts continue to trouble me, perhaps my confidence in her shall be remade in time. Hopefully... I shall listen to her reasoning and why she carried out her mischievous deed in the usually peaceful hall...
