The Lady Danel thanked me for my help before she departed to speak with the Lords Belegos and Estarfin, and I wish I had thought to say more to her than I did. I should have told her, 'What is well begun, must not be abandoned.' For what it is my duty to perform, will continue to be my duty, until my task is complete, and I have seen these Noldor to the gates of the dark tower. At times I think I do too much, and I am not as sustained as I should be, but sacrifices must be made, and are necessary during times of extremity, and the Lady Danel said there would be wine soon enough. One admirable trait of these Noldor is that they are willing, no matter how many impediments and afflictions are put in their path, to push their efforts through to the very last - to rise from every conflict with fresh courage, and strive for victory while strength and hope remains - to never give up. All things they do, they do with great zeal, and entirely; they neglect nothing, and are not satisfied until they have what they desire, and their desires are not easily satisfied. It must come from living as long as they have, for the longer one lives, the less novel life’s experiences appear, and their tastes become more and more refined, so that what once pleased them in their youth would seem as a crude toy as the years pass. Lord Belegos was not very impressed with the black pool in the wilderness near the Fortress of the Trees, and the rest were so eager to leave it that I had not the chance to catch any fish to fry for our dinner. My place was changed a little, and I suppose it was not as delightful as I thought it.
But I do not need much. I am content with suitable shelter from the winter’s cold, and a shady place away from the rays of the hot summer sun, and sustenance, though it does not have to be very rich or very fine, but it should be plentiful, and of variety, for nothing is duller than eating the same food day in and day out, except starving from want, and that gets mighty dull indeed. So I am content to lie here wrapped up in my fur-lined cloak, snug and dry beside the fire, nibbling on some dried fruits and nuts from the Malledhrim’s stores, and drinking the last of Master Elloen’s wine. I think he had hidden it from me all this time. He complained that he is unable to repose because of sounds in the wood: the howling, and he saw an orc warrior fling himself headlong at one of the guards and be struck down dead. I saw some strange shadows drifting through the trees - twelve-foot tall wandering spirits of men, and other things in the woods that seem so dead and empty. The Noldor are still standing away a short distance, discussing what I know not, but their faces look very pale and grim. It is likely talk of our journey tomorrow. I shall bring the wineskin over to them, and see if they would share some merriment before we rest.
