We continued west and no one bothered us, it was like those plains were vastly uninhabited. We avoided the few settlements. Cernaindo was carried on an improvised stretcher made out of wood and a couple of cloaks, the most resistant ones that we carried. It looked rather princely with the silver embroidery and dark leather tassels that poured on the side.

​​​It was late morning and though the autumn nights had been quite cold, it was now pleasantly warm in Aldburg. At that moment, beneath a small cluster of trees, two young figures were lying side by side. Ash and Deor would do this often enough and would often be heard speaking to each other in gentle tones, meant only for the ears of each other. But this moment, they had simply been lying in a comfortable silence, merely basking in the closeness of the other. 

“Alphaear,” came the gentle voice of her ring-sworn, her beloved. She stands on the grassy banks of the river in the peaceful Valley of Imladris, but no greater peace could ever be brought to her than by the presence of the one she loves the most. The night is cool, and she shivers through her thin silk dress as she turns to look at him.

Instant Happiness : Flowers, Apples, Peas, Potatoes, And Love

"The one small garden of a free gardener was all his need and due, not a garden swollen to a realm; his own hands to use, not the hands of others to command." 

(These events follow on directly from Dead Man's Cloak - Xan's Humble Chronicler)

As Addiela made her way into the Rusty Barge to break the bad news to Nethrida, Ryn and Ane and Xandilif helped Kraddock prepare Septimal Caine’s body to be taken back to Minas Tirith, Finchley looked around for a way to make Nik more comfortable.

The Dastardly Case of the Dead Man’s Tale (Part the First)