Rivendell

I rode to Rivendell with Tom on a Inn League mission. It was the third time I've been there.

Every time I've gone, I go giddy when I come out of the pass and look down into the valley. This time was no different. I gripped my pony's reins. One false step and we'd be tumbling down the mountainside. When we got to Elrond's stables I hugged her so tight that she whinnied.

We stopped to look at the falls. It's magnificent!  So much water!  Such power!  I just had to take out my pastels and sketch.

Ebbephant,

Forgive me for not making the journey to Lothlorien alongside your beloved Nelnardis and your muinthel, Forostel. A strange encounter of mine in the Northern end of the Trollshaws has left me -

Faorie folds the paper semi neatly and slides it to the other end of her red table. She stands from her seat and searches through her bookcase for another piece of blank parchment. Sitting back down, she attempts another letter.

Ebbephant,

Faorie makes her way to the Last Homely House where a rather large gathering of elves were to be expected. The memory of her patrol through the Trollshaws the night before was still fresh and the feeling sensed in the air in the Northern region was...

Standing in the boat departing from the Mirk-eaves, embracing the vision of Loriéns glorious trees bathing in the golden light of the morning sun, I was unsure if I was leaving a home or setting out to find a new one. 

The path North of Rivendell.

The skies had long darkened and although Faorie knew that her walk through the Trollshaws had already been thoroughly patrolled she couldn't help but to continue for another round. There was so much unfiltered concern running through her mind, one after the other, that her supposedly memorised route through the woods began to appear less definite.

Saelleth had undergone many months of training in the valley of Imladris and observed a number of patrols in the surrounding lands. She had progressed well and although her skill with the sword was still lacking in comparison to the fully trained warriors she had learned enough to defend herself competently. Where Saelleth excelled was in the use of the spoken word.

The autumn sun was shining through the few copper-coloured leaves still clinging to the branches in defiance of the icy winds cutting through the vale. Despite the deeply blue sky, the weather was already turning to winter and the temperature mirrored it. There was an edge to the wind and the smell of ice in the crisp mountain air.