Ithilwë

We have just recently finished our errantry in Waymeet, a tiny town in the Shire. The market was definitely a success, with customers from all walks of life and all races coming to look at our wares. We made many a coin, though I myself, did not participate in the selling of the wares.

Foolhardy. 

Drunk. 

Insane. 

Even the grandest of dreams could not compare to this feeling. Not even Eru himself could dream up something so wonderful. This bastion of hope that now lights my way through the darkness of this world.

The moon is high in the sky and an empty bottle of red wine sits not an arm's length from me. Amathlan has just left. I wish he could stay till the sun rises, but I know he may not. Maybe I shall try to find some sleep, if there is any to be had.

--------------------------

“You are far too beautiful to love me.”

Even if things go well at first, there are always dips and rocks on the path. My words were sharp and covered in thorns, but as were his.

I honestly can not recall the last moment I was so furious! 

My anger raged and burned as Amathlan and I spoke. It has been ages since such fury rose. Though I am still trying to quell my anger inside, I also feel ashamed.

I suppose it was my fault in the first place, writing to Cardanith behind his back as I did. I should have spoken with Amathlan first. But what can one do, if they are worried? 

“I want for ruin or glory, and none in between.”

A hurriedly scribbled letter, folded unevenly and rumpled. It is roughly tied with a blue ribbon and the writing is barely legible it is so shaky.

To Cardanith, residing in Imladris

Hir Cardanith,

It grieves me to have to write to you. You do not know me, but your friend Amathlan is very dear to me. I know not if this will reach you, nor if you care to hear my words, but I must speak to you.

Honestly, where has Amathlan's mind fled to?

Just a day past, he had been thanking me for my never-ending patience and smiling at my stories. I thought his heart might be healing....

Obviously it was all a ruse. His heart is broken and anger has filled the emptiness inside. The sharp way his words came out of his mouth, was shocking to say the least. He was going on and on about death, glory and ruin. The only time I have seen someone in such a state of anger was when....well I shall not dwell in the past. I must focus on Amathlan at the moment.

Another page from a small weathered book. The writing is unclear but was written precisely.

The date reads:

Year 445 F.A., Gondlin