It took a fair amount of finagling, but I have set foot within Lothlorien and Caras Galadhon. I was stopped at the very border of the Golden Wood, as I had only just lifted my last foot from the Nimrodel by a group of wardens garbed in grey, their bows trained on me. A fair, golden-haired one stood out amongst the rest and spoke at length with me, asking my lineage, from whence I came, and where I planned to go. I was eventually permitted access to the elven city where I was bid to ask around for word of Mirkwood before I sought a boat across the Anduin.
And so, for a good few moons, I have been seeking refugees of Mirkwood and speaking at length with them for any word of this Colheron, father of Cuileth. I must admit that I find the company of these Nandor to be somewhat pleasant, in a foreign sort of way. They are... far less refined than the Sindar and Noldor I have come of age around. While wandering the lovely gardens, I spoke with Nandor in particular whose name I did not learn who seemed disdainful of the Noldor customs, though only vaguely, and I have come to agree with him at length. Though my lineage is thickly Noldor blood, I have never outrightly considered myself as such.
At any rate, I digress. My search is at last successful, it could be said, as I have found news of Cuileth's beloved father. I am relieved that I shan't have to brave the evil of Mirkwood, and also eager to return to my home of many years, but also I weep inside for my beloved. I name her Saernin, for bitter tears are all she shall have.
Her father is slain.
That she should suffer the same fate as I is more than I can stand. Yes, my father diminished on his own account, as is his right as an Eldar, but far worse is to have her father taken from her. My heart breaks for her, the same one that aches with love.
I shall begin my departure for Imladris tomorrow. As I ride for home, I shall have much to think on.
