Eruthaiwen strode up a hill, the eastern entrance to the hidden fortress of Esteldin. She had wandered away from the others for a time to explore and see this place that she had never visited. It astonished her that such a large fortification could remain hidden for so long. Rounding the crest of the hill, she looked out over the forest at the foot of the steep incline. Without thinking, she turned her locket over in her hands, looking north to the mountains that bordered Angmar. She didn’t know why, but a suffocating apprehension settled over her when she looked at it or even thought of it, as if she were a child and it were a monster under her bed coming to snatch her away and drag her into darkness. The feeling made her clutch at the locket. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and loosened her grip on the silver pendant. Opening it, she looked at the small portrait of her brother, Aulant, and ran a finger over the stone she had made for him and had set in the locket. The flat, circular marble face, about an inch and a half in diameter, she had carved with words in Sindarin and Quenya, as each language was more befitting, for healing, shielding, repairing, and blocking, hoping to craft into the stone the power behind those words. She had meant to give it to Aulant, but was unable to finish it before he left. Her thoughts drifted back to when she was researching Angmar for this trip.
She had become so frustrated with filling her head with thoughts of Angmar as it beleaguered her spirit that she turned to her other books for reprieve. She passed over a number of choices, lingering momentarily on one. The only distinguishing feature was a V embossed on the spine, indicating that it had been written by Vearra. While, when Eruthaiwen first met her on coming to Hookworth, the woman had seemed rather abrasive, they had soon become fast friends and the elf looked on the woman as a mentor. Her hand hovered over the book for a moment before moving on. Finally, she came to what she knew she needed. Opening it, she ran her fingers gently over the pages with their horizontal creases, evidence that they had not first been in a book. If she could give the book a title, it would be Correspondences, for that is what it was: a book her brother had made for her of the letters they had written back and forth, oh so many years ago it seemed.
She glanced at the first few lines and smiled:
Dear Aulant,
I hear you’ve officially joined the Knights of Eriador. Congratulations!
The letter continued on. She briefly looked over it and began to flip the pages looking fondly at the letters. She had read up to a point some months ago, when her mind been troubled, but had put it away when the matter had been resolved with, to her, a happy conclusion. Now picking it up again, she continued to read, wondering what Aulant would do if he were with her or in her circumstances. She sat on her bed and began to read. There were a couple letters about his military exploits and her replies concerning her life in Imladris and the state of her studies in healing. Around halfway through came a shift in the quality of the binding, the point where she had rebound the book with the letters exchanged after the first book had been made. Then she came to one near the end she did not remember, though upon reading it she recalled it.
Eruthaiwen,
You can expect my arrival soon after you receive this letter. Worry not at this unexpected sabbatical. It is not as though there is trouble among the Order that would compel me to leave; this trip is of a personal nature. Recently, on a simple patrol around the area to the northeast of Fornost, we were unexpectedly set upon by a company of northern hillmen allied with a number of savage orcs. Though we were caught by surprise, we had the superior training and thus we repelled them for the most part. Some of our number were killed and (the rest of the sentence is smudged and obliterated, replaced with new words) some of our number were captured for reasons unknown. A few of the knights were sent on a rescue mission to retrieve those who had been captured and were being held-(the words here are smudged). The rescue mission was successful, but suffice it to say that Angmar is not so dead as we had once believed.
I have been granted an extended leave and will be home shortly.
Aulant
Eruthaiwen read her reply concerning her joy at his return. There were a few letters after that with odd intervals of time between them. These she merely thumbed through, her mind urging her to do something else. Not long after the letters stopped, he had left for the Grey Havens to go west across the sea. Closing the book, she heaved a tired sigh, missing her brother. Shaking her head, she put it from her mind. She tossed the book aside, having already forgotten those feelings and the letter. She set out with hopeful anticipation for Seargildin’s house to see what other preparations there were to be made for their journey with Leothross to Angmar.
Eruthaiwen’s mind came back to the present. She smiled, no ill thought or emotion in her mind, she had no recollection of reading the letter, only thoughts of the later preparations remained. She ran her thumb once more over the face of the stone situated in her locket before snapping it shut. Taking one final survey of the forest from above, she turned and made her way back down to her companions: Leothross, Acurith, Mamiym, and Zargodon. There was a lightness to her step and a brightness in her eyes. No matter what her fear, she trusted her allies and hoped, in some way, that she could help them. As long as she stayed with Seargildin, things would be all right.
