Much has transpired since my last account, but much of it is cause for joy. My last account was penned in Bree-land, and since then I have escorted Linglorel Tindomiel across the Lone Lands and the Trollshaws into the Hidden Valley of Imladris. Our journey together was both joyous and apprehensive. While I found such joy in her company, my heart was heavy knowing that my desires seemed to be beyond me. I believed that only Lord Aragorn was destined to wed a daughter of the Elves. And yet such hope lingered in my heart. While I spoke softly and sweetly to Linglorel, I secretly cursed my heart for giving me hope where I thought there was none.
My heart proved true upon our arrival in Rivendell. On a fair starlit night, Tindomiel bared her heart to me and proved my desires were not in vain. For her to consider my love worthy to her is a greater honor than any royal title that could be bestowed upon me. we have since dwelt in Rivendell, and I have leant my aid to Lord Elrond in whatever way I may. My errands have taken me into the Misty Mountains, a treacherous region that I knew only once before as I strove to prove myself an able warrior to my kinsmen. I have found that Tindomiel's love has carried my feet all the swifter across the snows. Again, I have had to be sure that my joy does not turn to recklessness. Each time I have returned to her unharmed.
Now a greater task is set before me. This last evening, Tindomiel's sister confronted us, and not to give her blessing. Her words no doubt echo those of Tindomiel's father. Like Beren, I am accused of stealing a daughter of the Eldar and bestowing on her a life of sorrow. It pains me to know that the Eldar still view the Gift of Men as a sorrow and not as the gift that the One meant it to be. Of course, sorrow weighs heavier on the hearts of Elves than it does on the hearts of Men, and so their fears are understandable. Nevertheless, a task is now set before me to prove myself worthy of Linglorel's love. Her sister has given me the task of following my chieftain into paths of darkness. Though I would follow him to the doors of Barad-dur, I sense foreboding in her words. I have considered what she must mean, but can find no meaning as of yet. Moreover, I now travel to the Mirkwood to seek the blessing of Tindomiel's father. Though the Dunedain are ever the friends of the Eldar, this errand may prove a danger. But still, I go with a heart of hope. Perhaps fate will smile on us as it already has.
