It is the 38th day of Iavas
In the 3018th year of the Sun
Of the Third Age of Middle-earth

Legolas shall set forth upon his errand in twelve days hence, five days ere the Enedhoer^[1] (and thus one day before my four and fiftieth oronnad, which will be marked without feast or mirth as we travel along the dark, dank path to the Forest Gate... and two days thereafter I shall reach the age of fifty years and three beneath those benighted boughs!)

Four weeks^[2] have been allotted for the journey, for it is wellnigh one hundred leagues as the eagle flies from the Halls of the Elvenking to the House of Elrond, and our road over high Cirith Forn en Andrath will be somewhat longer; and although we go mounted and not on foot, none can foretell what delays might befall us, though the valiant Beornings guard the Pass.

I have been wandering hither and thither about the greenwood, visiting the happy haunts of my childhood and bidding farewell to my forest friends and those places I have long loved. I despair at leaving my woodland home, but alas! a shadow lies heavy upon my heart; no longer do I feel the enchantment that the forest held for me aforetime. And despite my young years, I feel a weariness of spirit that I have not borne before, and I yearn for release from the labours of living...

No more than a handful of our clan remain, and our Green-elven glade is therefore uncommonly quiet; thus I spend my days therein mostly with Amdirren, my mother, for she alone is the remnant of my kin. But she has allayed my fears, for she was not dismayed to learn my purpose when Teithoron read to her the message I left here within my journal, and she holds me blameless for my folly and delay. Nor is she overborne by her grief; indeed, though she deeply mourns our loss she is eager to depart, for she deems that the sooner we come to the Undying Lands, the sooner we shall reunite with our kin whose spirits dwell within the Halls of Awaiting. Mayhap she is right, and with this hope we shall endure our sorrow.

For now she busies her hands (and her thoughts, I deem) with the fashioning of new raiment for us both, worthy -- she says -- of the descendants of the Laegrim of Lindon in the Elder Days, and more fitting for long days of travel in the wide world than the woodland garb with which we commonly clad ourselves! But that is not all: besides divers pieces of armour, she has also bade the leatherworkers to fashion footwear for each of us; for the snows of the high Hithaeglir are bitterly cold, even for hardy elven-feet. Thus for the first time in my young life my feet shall be shod, and for the first time in many long days, laughter passed my lips!

And I have begun to gather those few belongings that will go with us upon the Journey, but to each clings a memory of bygone days of joy and gladness which bring sadness to my heart. Cúlalf I have carefully bound in soft cloth, and ancient Egros remains by my side; its touch brings to my mind the voice of Echeleb, ever stern but oft kind, and within its age-old elm-wood I yet feel his love for its making a long age ago. And ever I wonder what has befallen my father's father: has he perished in the joyless deeps of Dol Guldur, or does he yet live as a thrall of the dark Power that dwells therein? Alas! I wish it was possible to look within that fell fastness from afar and so ease our troubled minds from doubt! But what then? If he yet endures we cannot free him from his bonds, for Thranduil Elvenking says the Woodland Realm has not the strength to assail the dungeons of the Necromancer, and wherefore would we find friends to aid in such a venture?

As tokens of my father, my mother and I each bear his two rings: she has joined his golden wedding band with the oaken ring she wears about her neck, and to me she bestowed his own carven ring of betrothal; though it is too large for any of my fingers (and besides I deem it would be unjust to wear it) and thus I too bear a leather thong that hangs above my heavy heart.

But hardest is my parting from Teithoron Tegilbor, ever my friend and counsellor; but he has offered me much comfort, for he has himself felt the bitter grief of loss and long endured it. Saddened by my leaving as he is, he yet gives me hope, for he says that although he has not the gift foresight, his heart forbodes that we shall meet again in Ennor! Does he mean that I shall not follow the Straight Road to Avon? I know not, but I shall heed his heartening words, "Oft hope is born when all is forlorn"!^[3]

And he had for me a welcome gift, for he knows the wellworn robes I wear when I am not garbed in woodland fashion, and he says I cannot mingle with the refined Eldar of the First Homely House^[4] clad in such rude and rustic raiment! (My teacher deems I am unkempt, it seems, for this is not the first gift of garments he has given me!)  And he kindled in my heart a glimmer of my old joy when he told me that Imladris was not only a refuge for the weary and the oppressed, but also a treasury of good counsel and wise lore[5], with books enough to occupy even my wayward mind for a long count of years! But how long will we linger in Imladris ere we follow the Great East Road into the West?

Now I begin to see myself as if with the eyes of others: a strange Wood-elf who alone of all his kin loves the written word, for even in the midst of my mourning the promise of books unknown to me brings a lightening of my heart! And I wonder what power was at work that brought my fae into being for such a life, and wherefore was I born into this age only to flee unto the Uttermost West?

[1] "Tolkien did not give the Sindarin words for these holidays in Appendix D. These translations from the Quenya were provided by Sindarin expert /u/Elaran in the /r/sindarin subreddit."
- Shire Reckoning: A visualization of the calendars described in J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings Appendix D

[2] "For [ritual rather than] practical purposes the Eldar observed a week or enquië of six days." (*ahem*)
- The Lord of the Rings, Appendix D, 'The Calendars'

[3] The Return of the King, 'The Last Debate'

[4] "Because of its location, it was called "The Last Homely House East of the Sea" from the point of view of a traveller going to the Misty Mountains and Wilderland; and also the First Homely House from the point of view of someone coming from these lands to the civilised lands of Eriador to the west."
- Tolkien Gateway, 'Rivendell'

"... the valley of Rivendell, where stood the Last (or the First) Homely House."
- The Hobbit, 'The Last Stage'

[5] The Silmarillion, 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age

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