Imladris

My Lord,

My spirit was not haughty, but it was proud. In stubborn silence, I would sit under the dark pines, wondering why I was so ignorant that I could not answer the questions of children. I knew a few things, but what I did not know was immense. I wished to learn more about the world and see what lay outside the borders of my homeland. So I ventured forth, without any idea of what I would find. Exceedingly foolish it seems to me now, but at the time, I thought it was the best path.

My heart lept as I learned that there are forces of good at work in Mirkwood. I know I was expected for the Hûd i Eledhrim but I could linger in Imladris no longer - the road called for me! 

It is only a short ride from the stables to the Gates of Imladris. Nelnardis urges Beren to a canter, listening to the steady rhythm of hooves upon the road, trying to calm herself. However her heart inevitably beats faster as she nears the watchers.

One of them sees her approach and they sigh as Beren slows to a halt. Before Nelnardis can even ask the question the watcher shakes their head. Nothing. She nods, sadly, turning back to the road to the stables.

For some time, I have watched these elves in the valley of Imladris, where I lurked all the spring; speaking little to anyone. Most took no heed of me, for I did not encourage talk, and kept myself apart, listening for news of my brother. None was forthcoming. I began to think he was dead, and that by the end of the season, I must betake some other plan of action.

I had just entered Lord Elrond’s great hall, and was making my way to the Hall of Fire, when a hand darted out from behind a pillar, catching me by the wrist. I was shocked to come face to face with my brother Culufinnel!

Night was falling over Echad Dagoras, muting the color of the land into shadows. A quiet began to descend on the encampment as the elves of Vanimar settled themselves for rest after the long day of traveling. They had set out from Imladris under the cover of night and had not stopped to rest since then. Eliriael remembered the veil of night lifting for the arrival of dawn just as her feet splashed across the Ford of Bruinen.

Naurdam strode across the courtyard to his waiting steed. He had spent the past few months within the valley of Imladris and he was keen to be out on the road once more. He had visited the Halls of Lord Elrond on only a handful of previous occasions since their creation and on this most recent trip it had proven hard to mask his displeasure at finding the Halls open to not only the race of man but to the race of Dwarves also.