Third Letter to Lothelian



Dearest Faerind,

It is only the first day upon the road and I already feel much more at ease now that we stepped outside Duillond. The architecture has given way to tall trees instead and the bustle and noise of the crowds have disappeared so that all I can hear now is the whisper of wind in the trees and across the grass. Do not show my words to anyone, Lothelian! They are not even likely my own…perhaps a product of reading too many books lately with poetic authors. Regardless, I feel more at peace.

Though a certain Celebrig likes to disturb it. He is another ellon who joined Glorendir’s party. I cannot fathom why they are friends though. Glorendir is scholarly and refined and poised, like an ancient birch tree, ready to bend with the seasons. Celebrig is more like the prickliest of pine trees, keeping everything at a distance or poking into them. He was quite inquisitive about my relationship with Tancamir and why I have such a temper with him. He seems to think I am invested in Tancamir, when that really could not be further from the truth. I simply think Tancamir needs a good yelling at so he can grow up and not inconvenience the people around him. If I do not say something, I know he will continue his ways and get himself into similar predicaments with people who are counting on him. I, of course, do not count on him for anything. I only want him to learn for the sake of other people and himself.

But since Celebrig first met me when I encountered Tancamir at the library, he seems to think I have a fiery temper all the time, which is not the case. He has gone about calling me Ruindol now because he thought I had red hair! You know as well as I do that my hair is most definitely a warm, glossy chestnut. It is not the first time someone has made that mistake. I will never understand why some like to imagine me with red hair, simply because I tell off people who deserve it from time to time. Do you think my hair has hints of red in the light, Faerind?

Speaking of red things, I have not had the chance to use the flint and tinderbox you made for me to make fires with. Tancamir is always quick about it and I do not mind. And Glorendir is always leading us, as if a map is imprinted in his mind. He also takes care of all of the cooking. He made a soup for us the first night with herbs and ingredients he packed, which was very soothing and pleasant. All in all, I have naught to care for except to put one foot in front of the other and talk to my traveling companions. Do you not think me rather fortunate to have fallen in with this lot?

Glorendir is a very entertaining conversationalist. Perhaps it is because he has read so many books that I find it rather easy to talk with him and exchange stories. He asked me for one and I told him about you and me as we walked through the land of the periannath. It made me miss you sorely, but I hold my necklace tight and it helps me feel that you are close beside me again.

We kept to the woods, hidden away from the eyes of the periannath, even though it was night when we travelled. You never know when they might peep through their windows and accidentally see us. It is a lush land. I have never seen so many green hills anywhere else. I would like to bring you here one day as well. If Celondim can boast the azure blue sea, the periannath can boast their own sea of green grass.

It is nice for me to have time to be alone and write to you when we settle in a camp for the night. The others sleep in their own way, but I am ever restless and am content to write or wander instead. I hear Celebrig, yonder, and he is a fitful sleeper. Perhaps that is why he is so irritable when awake.

Luthelian