Melumatyar

The scouts and swordsmen are shaken by the dangers they faced this day. They pause at the falls of Barad Glamgil to regain their bearings and assess the situation. Having left Lirisseya at Thorenhad following her painful wound, the small party is further diminished; the cónin of the House make the decision not to confront whatever shadow the Elves feel lying on the ruins above. Commander Redandir strikes out on his own to gather more information, while the rest of the group makes for an Elf-camp Melumatyar knows of.

Following the scent of woodsmoke, we discovered a camp in the Trollshaws. The fact that friends felt safe here on this rocky outcrop -- safe enough to rest their horses and build a fire without fear -- cheered us no small amount. Several of the company opened their rations and took food around the fire. It was natural for me to remain standing, but, with my lord Branalph's approving eyes upon me, I was able to offer the company a song about harvest-time and grain.

We rode, following the guidance of hir Glorfingwë, who was eager for the company to take horse and begin the long travel ahead of them.L

My lord and I met the merry travelers at a well-known ruin in the woods. He and I knew we must turn back once we saw the group safely on their way as they traveled toward merriment and frivolity -- and we remained for duty. I admit that envy tinged my gaze upon my friends.

At the end of the evening, members of Lósengriol and the last few guests went outside to plant one of the esteloth flowers retrieved intact all the way from i Drann, the former part of Arthedain now called "the Shire." Manadhlaer and Lirisseya discussed their hopes to use the plant to heal the griefs of those who bore hurt in their hearts.

The long trek to the Great Smials of Tuckborough has paid off. There are a few false starts: Gaerondil finds and rejects volumes on swine, show chickens, and split-rail fences, while Redandir, predictably, selects To Win a Lass, and Hermanniadoc goes for Fireside Tales of the Shire. But once again, it is Lirisseya whose unerring research skills find the right volume -- a book called The Green Thumb by Old Gardner Greenleaves contains a sketch of the very flower the Elves are researching! 

Approaching the inn whose sign Oxslip described, the Elves discover a bewildering variety of hobbits who are astounded to see them. Naturally, the hobbits are curious as to what these outlandish Big Folk might want, and talk turns quickly to the mysterious flower and keepers of herb-lore throughout the Shire.

The Elves of Lósengriol sit amazed -- the very first hobbit they have met, even before crossing the Baranduin, knows a song about the exact flower whose lore they have come to study. And a beautiful song it is, skillfully strummed by young Oxslip!

In the middle of trying to sort out preparations for the next leg of the journey, the Elves are surprised to meet one of the very Shire-folk they have been seeking -- a friendly and polite little fellow named Poscoad with an unusually dapper hat. Unfortunately, he also has a talent for getting lost: he is looking for some place called Herne. Man-towns are not Gaerondil's specialty, but she has a try at finding the place on the map, and concludes it must be somewhere to the south.

As the Elves converse with their new Dwarf friend, a small crowd begins to gather -- Men, mostly, but also another Elf, who says little but watches the goings-on with evident interest. Branalph and Gaerondil are mostly interested in refilling the water-skins -- not without a grumble or three from the latter about the dryness of the Lone-lands -- and seeing what fresh food might be available for trade. Hamadmachor, being the forward-looking sort, wants to ensure the group's passage around the Mannish town of Bree and through the many brigands on the Great East Road.