QuickSilver

I must wonder if he did it on purpose. I must wonder if he knew precisely what he sought. I must wonder if he led me there for a reason.

Arugru and I walked today, as we often do. Usually he will head toward Bree or pass by to go further west or north, depending on his mood. This day, however, he struck out east as soon as we left the bounds of Pemberth.

I could hear the Anduin's everflowing voice, though I could not see it: too many trees blocked my sight like silver pillars with golden crowns. The wildflowers always bloom in Lórien, the trees are alive despite the cold winter and the sky is clear... this place is powerful, enhanced by the light of the Eldar. If it is the Lady's power that allows the trees and earth to speak, I do not know, but I can hear the voices of them all around me, dancing with my people.

The days pass and  nothing changes. Everything is as it was. The same people pass me by when I sit in the same chair in the same inn in Bree. The same problems are spoken of, the same troublesome matters persisting to wear us all down with the infinite patience of a river over rocks.

The sun sets and I toss and turn in a failed bid to sleep. The sun rises and I measure and pin and cut and sew before returning to the town to watch the world slide by, contemplating the very things I had considered only the day before, and the day before that and the day before that.

 Dear Lord Eglanel,

I am writing this letter to because I think you deserve an explanation to know these things.
You may choose not to read it. Actually, if I judge you correctly you will not and instead will mourn in silence.
But I will still write this, because.

I am very sorry about your sister. When I heard of it I thought for a moment it may have been my fault because for I spoke to her, and she talked to me about her pain and about you.