Now I'm writing in Dol Amroth, at a proper table for such. I'm in the big library here and it… I think I never knew there could be so many books at all, let alone in one library. I have no idea how old some of them might be, though. There still might be more wisdom in Lord Elrond's library, but there's probably more total knowledge in this one.
Anyways, I've taking the time to draw the city some, and bought some paintings to show Owena. This city… if I didn't have reasons to go back, and promises to keep, I might just stay here. Miss – or is it really Lady, as I reckon now from what I've seen and heard here – Cerriel was right about the problems with going by sea, though, so I'm glad we came the way we did. I hope that gets worked out. I'd love to come back by ship. Probably faster, and that'd make it more likely to get Owena to come see the place.
But that's getting ahead of myself. If I hadn't promised, I'd probably be staying in Harwick, anyway, and not here, with things as they are. Of course, that would eventually lead to getting myself killed, probably, while trying to scout the Easterlings alone. It's too much to hope for even getting caught by the right ones to be captive with Wendy, and just me alone to free her? I know that's not going to happen.
Such thinking is … maybe even beyond silly to stupid. But it keeps me dreaming of her as alive, at least, and not somehow dead after all since they took her. That part seems too likely otherwise when I'm alone in the deep of night.
But in trying to keep to what's here and now, like I meant to when I started… I've heard more Sindarin here than anywhere else in lands of men. It's not even just the nobles in this city. And the big, wide-open spaces, with the sea's breezes, and how clean they try to keep it all… it's so beautiful. Sometimes the noises from all the swans get to me a little, but they are real nice to look at.
It turns out I'd misunderstood what Andrelanor told me about the place. They had to correct me on it here, but thinking back, she didn't say what I thought – I just didn't understand how Lord Amroth died so well, or where things happened. Edhellond isn't that far away, but they say it's not a safe place to visit right now, because of the corsairs using its harbour. I wish I could at least see it from a boat, but that's not going to happen. At least not on this trip. So I can't tell her what things are like there, and only here.
In the morning, we'll be leaving, making our way back around and then up north. Despite the heartache that I know is going to hit me in Harwick, I'm looking forward to being in Rohan again. It's funny to say, considering how much more foreign I feel there yet because of the language. But the people are more straightforward. If they're suspicious, you know it. If they're friendly, they're friends. The prices are better. And I can see what its people see in the beauty of the land itself. Gondor has its nice points, sure, especially this city – but as a land, I've already learned to love the Mark.
It's funny, in that some of the places that are supposed to be the grandest, like Minas Tirith and Lothlórien, are too much like fortresses for me. Well, I suppose they actually are fortresses, but that makes them not feel so nice of places to be, at least for my feelings. I like Dol Amroth, I like a lot of the places we stayed in the Mark, and I like Imladris, and sometimes, when the smells aren't blowing the wrong way, I even like Bree. Well, I suppose I like Caras Galadhon well enough, except for not seeing enough sky while there. Maybe that's really it, for me. I need the stars – kinda like so many of the elves, I reckon. Maybe that's why I wind up making friends with so many of them.
Anyways, that's enough of that sort of thinking, or I'll get all maudlin here in the library. Time to finish up here and get some sleep so I don't delay us in the morning.
