Tindir

[A lively elf by the name of Celdir surreptitiously produces a crumpled and ink-stained piece of paper and offers it to those he considers to be friendly to Virthalion including, but not limited to, Lady Danel, Lady Elisbeth and Captain Khalis of Imladris. He expresses some concern over his master’s well-being and although he is not unduly worried, indicates that he wishes to make sure that Virthalion is being kept an eye on by his companions - whether his master approves of this or not.]

Oh, Diary! You will never guess who finally came back to our weekly gatherings in the Hall of Fire! It is my dear friend Mirineth, she whose presence used to be indispensible at these gatherings, she who went around to every new-comer and called them brother or sister, and made them feel welcome. She also introduced me to some warriors, one of whom always pestered her to dance, saying that he could support her in such a way that none would notice her wound...

Well, Diary. That was quite a day.

Losgael was proud -- proud of her man, who is my only known living kin; proud in every possible way. That is the way of the Hammer. And because Meluilindele loves her, though -- I did not know this until the day of the contest -- he had forsworn fighting at the request of his father and brother many yéni hence, he arrived at the appointed time, bearing a sword.

O Diary! Oh, oh, oh, I cannot believe it, yet -- it is true!

Oh, Diary. Oh, oh, oh.

It started innocently enough. Anglador, the astrologer, came by to show me some star-charts, and Norlië came along with him. (I refer to her by this name still, though there is a more intimate name she told me that only her family ever knew. To keep it that way, I shall try not to quote it in these pages.) Hir Tindir of the Hammer was out on his evening stroll just then -- I had been puttering about in the garden before the visit -- and Lady Ambassador Tingruviel, before long, and Caun Danel ended up joining the group.

Sparring in Rivendell. Ráolor wearing a blindfold

"Again!"