Carlotta

Caspier Redain plodded along, swaying gently with the movement of her chestnut horse. She was tired, fed up and although she couldn't help but admire the vast, empty landscape of Evendim, she hated where she was. She needed people! People meant stock for her cruel business and buyers to sell her wares to. Still, her hope lay in the wilderness for any chance of making any money before the next instalment.

"I used to brush my sister's hair when she was still a little child." Daerundros said soothingly as she tugged gently against the mess that was Ariagne's hair. It was a fair-clad gloomy night, a lantern seated beside Daerundros to give her illumination as she battled with the tangled bush of Ariagne's untidy and unkempt hair.
"I though' Elves were immor'al?" Ariagne's voice piped up in the dark. Daerundros smiled to herself as she took a small section of Ariagne's hair and began weaving it into a delicate braid.

My life was once beautiful. Everything was glamour and glitz, fashion and frivolities. I was a flirt, a manipulator, an innocent. I never left my home. I loved myself, my beauty, my dresses, my parties. Perfection was an understatement. I'm not saying that I was happy, just content in the vain little world that I had created for myself and unwilling to allow a need to let others invade my own private realm of self love. All was well until that fatefull day when my life took a turn for the different and nothing was the same again...

"Our daughter! Can' ye believe i', dear?" The man stated quite angrily. There was a resonating sound from the desk as a large fist banged down the wooden surface. The room was lit by numerous candles, the surroundings quite lavish and luxurious. It was clearly the home of a Noble's family. Several furnitures of exquisite quality lay around the room. A bed of velvet was to be seen nearby, followed by portraits of various family members. Moonlight streamed in lazily from the window.

A new page has turned. As I leave behind my writings from Imladris, I joyfully turn to the next page.

Apparently, Beodrid has been harbouring quite some feelings for me, and I only recently became aware of it after I had kissed him, in an attempt to ward off his drunken suitor, Areene, a foolish young girl who had been jumping him and constantly trying to win his affections.

Dear Diary,

My recent experiences within Imladris have simply been marvelous. I am loving every single moment I spend here watching the trees, the birds, the nature, and generally everything. I feel more connected to the Earth within this place. I can feel how life pumps in everything within the Valley. I can fully appreciate nature now.

Dear Diary,

Elves! Real elves! Every single time my eyesight falls upon them, my breath is taken away!
Yes, I am in Rivendell now. I feel so puny and tiny compared to the mighty creatures. My fanciest dress is nothing in comparison to the fine Elven silk that Hîr Galvathalion has given me! Oh... there I go, rambling some small Sindarin words I've learned....

Dear Diary,

I find myself only a few meters away from the Last Bridge. Thank goodness! I can get away from these barren, sullen lands! But I hear that the Trollshaws are dangerous... they weren't named the "Trollshaws" without reason. Yes, Stone-trolls come out at night, so I will have to make sure that I always travel by day. However, I am simply content now, knowing that I will be there soon.