Imladris

The Dwarves of the Iron Garrison wait anxiously for the return of Seregrían, the Elf-scholar who they now regard as one of their own. Three days have passed since she followed the merrevail in a red rage to the peaks above Khazad-dûm. Bori and Svanr bravely tried to follow but halted at the gate of Zirak-zigil and kept watch, not daring to go further.

This diary is dated several days earlier.

I’ve sat on this bed, in this room, for three days now. After having been chased through the Lone-lands by all sorts of fell creatures, I was attacked by a Warg. In the Trollshaws!  These are dark times indeed if such beasts would come hither to the lands so close to Imladris. 

Belegos and Danel rode silently back to the Valley. The elf sat atop his mount, Celegsûl, with his hood drawn up and his shoulders hunched slightly. As the pair wound their way down from the dell they had sheltered in the previous night, they drew closer to the morning mist that had not yet burned away from the Valley. The sounds of the Hidden Vale of Imladris were enough to ease the last vestiges of tension from Belegos and he drew himself up straighter in his saddle and his singular grip on the reins relaxed.

Although her home is in Lindon; in the case of visiting Rivendell for an extended time, Aurthiel has a quarters to call her own.

Early summer, present days, Imladris