Imladris

She walks barefoot over the lawn. To my eyes it seems that the grass itself leans towards her, yearning for the blessing touch of her feet. I cannot keep my gaze away from this dreamlike figure, breathing in the real world before me. Nor can I look over-long into the radiance of her face. I hover in a twilight of wanting and running. What she is, and what that means in the world, is too great for me today.

Once I went out on a merchant ship. A useful exercise for any of our family, even the girls, my grandfather said. Two days were enough for a child of the groves like me. Before we were out of sight of the land a summer squall blew up. The ship pitching and yawing. 

Here I sit again in Imladris, my Lady sat not far from me.. glancing at her.. while she reads and writes.. the beauty she has is the reason poetry and song was formed.. to help describe in words what cannot be seen by the eye.. it is easy to find solice and contentment here in Imladris.. but as time presses ever onwards.. the call to step out again draws near..

Listed below is part of a collection of documents presumed lost by its author. It details a history of folly which its author sought to destroy himself, but, somehow, these documents survived. This history is kept within the library of Rivendell. It is believed that none know who authored it, though it is known that the House of Elrond Halfelven is very secretive of these documents, and would only let the most trusted scholars and council be privy to what they have to reveal.

...

A paper trail

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Mid day in Tinnudir. The sun stood high, illuminating the bright blue sky, as well as the deep blue waters of Lake Evendim. Calm winds rustled the treetops and unsettled the shining lake with calm, continuing waves. White clouds silently rode across the sky along with their mirroring twins in the lake.