Anglachelm

Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap
A breathless footfall on the cool marble. In the eerie silence, it resonated within the hall.
Creak.
The door opened wide and the Elf-maiden stared into the sunny sky.
Rustle.

I was out of bed yesterday without too much pain, and ate with a very good appetite, as I used to do, and being so long indoors, I was allowed to walk on the grass a little and look upon the stars, when the lady Rainith came to me, and among other things tells me that her husband Galdorion has gotten himself mixed into a grea

Dark red blood oozed around the hilt sticking out of his side. Too late, Parnard saw the sun glinting off the steel-bladed dagger hidden inside the tomb-robber’s boot. The point punctured through his chainmail and was driven deep between his ribs, so deep that he thought it better to leave it be, as more blood would flow out, or the vital organs suffer more injury from its removal. His breath came in short gasps, and he could scarcely ride a mile without the most intense pain, but he had many more miles ahead.

Daegond ran up the stairs in the Elrond's home and rushed outside towards the eastern balcony. That was the only spot he did not check in the valley this morning and he hated to be late. He passed the second floor alley and slam-opened the balcony doors as it was his way then looked outside with tightened eyes.

My Lord Anglachelm,

I hold it my duty to write this letter to acknowledge my absence from Imladris. If it has been noticed with displeasure by my Lord, I must humbly beg forgiveness.  There are so many advantages, both of honour and protection, which have arisen from my Lordship’s noble connection and consideration of me, that I am quite unused to them, and I fear that I have made a gross misstep by setting out without leave.

All healings of the heart and mind are slower, unhurried and gradual than those of the body, for these wounds are the deepest and bitterest. Parnard watched the townsfolk cheer as the body was cut down and laid into a pine box; the noise drowned out the lamentations of a sobbing woman. The mob surged forward, grabbed the box and threw it into the river.

Today I woke up with an aching head, as I spent the evening celebrating my safe return to Imladris with a good company of Elves: Ruthoiël,

            The world has shrunk to three – I barely remember the crowd of witnesses standing to one side. The full weight of the moment seems to hang above me in the still air - even the wind seems to be holding its breath. Galdorion stands before me, waiting by a huge figure swathed in red fabric. Beside me is Lord Anglachelm, standing silently, an imperious presence – impossible to ignore, even though I am almost afraid to look at his expression as he listens to Galdorion.

“I was right to send Daegond to find Turuviel and the sword. And I knew it is getting closer even before they ride into the valley” Reiven sighed softly “I should stay away from it and let them find a solution…” continued muttering to herself as walking in the halls blindly before her appearance caught by the others. She was too late to shift away…