Himwen

It had been a long and tiring year for both Manadhlaer and Curulinn, including, on one memorable occasion, both simultaneously. Snow lay on the High Moor, and while it seemed like autumn yet lingered in the Vale, Turuhalmë had just passed. Someone had gifted the healers a large supply of the sweet biscuits charmingly referred to as "cookies" by i Pheriannaith, the Shire-folk, and Manadhlaer's wine-cellar was legendary -- if somewhat diminished since Lord Anglachelm had spent a night in it.

Captain Sáranassë of the Order of the Arrow was many things, as she stood in Lady Manadhlaer’s office. She was tall, and fair in her austere way, and armored. She was a daughter of the Noldor, a creature of stealth and odd habits. She was a hardened warrior and a keeper of secrets. The one thing Sáranassë was not, by any means, was amused.

Greetings Lady Himwen,

There isn't much time so I'll get to the point as fast as I can. I am staying around Sarmëtecil for the time being, unless you have other orders for me.

After her night in the Hammer Hall, which at the very least did her no harm, Manadhlaer had been whisked around the Vale to a dizzying variety of safe-houses. This bright, bright morning, Manadhlaer had taken her breakfast in the Hall of the Order of the Fountain. Where Hammer Hall had smelled like a soldier's armpit directly after a battle, despite the most heroic efforts of Lieutenant Ancalassë, Fountain currently smelled like -- well, soap, and lots of it.

Diary, I tell you truly, never have I wanted Lord Tindir's steadying hand more than I do now. I am no military commander, but a mere shipwright's daughter, steered by fate to these shores. Tindir is overly silent and reveals nothing of his plans until he springs them upon us, but he is not wrong. I have begged Himwen to send no message, for his plans must succeed. He must not fail in his current mission. Indeed, I deem no raven could reach him.

Well, Diary, I suppose now it is true what people say, that one does not really know a person until one has lived with them.

That is, "with" in a very elastic sense -- for Captain Sáranassë has given me her own clean but spare bunk in Arrow Hall, and has taken to sleeping out of doors in a tree instead. She assures me she actually prefers it so. Rámarillë is clearly baffled by this. She circles one tree or another -- whether it be the correct tree, or no -- and honks very loudly into the air.

Diary, it is ridiculous.

Any other order that lost people in such a careless and rapid manner would be disbanded. Himwen at least keeps a tight rein on her soldiers of the Fountain, even if she yells at them a bit much. (Poor Nandutiriel! She probably saved Elloen's life, albeit in a grossly roundabout manner.)

But two Hammerites in five years only -- five turns of the seasons. To face each dawn without my only love is one difficulty, but to face summer this year without Daegond eating my flowers -- that was simply too much on top of the other loss.

Nandutiriel did not need to keep watch over her sleeping comrades -- not even the gentle ones, híril Norliriel and the mysterious Elloen -- for plenty of sentinels with bows, even at night, peered down hawkishly and roamed the stones of Echad Mirobel.

Yet she could no more have rested than she could have flapped her arms and flown like Elloen's beautiful white eagle. Her mind was awhirl.

Scrawled in haste on a scrap of paper, tied to the leg of a white eagle belonging to Elloen

Captain Himwen:

We waited for you at Gwingris and Echad Eregion, but have proceeded to Mirobel. We helped Elloen. He seems improved.

Reliable intel from the locals at Mirobel says there is a big, old Orc among those who occupy Barad Morlas, who carries the insignia of the team that assassinated both Celebrimbor and Elloen's parents. Will explain in full when I next see you.

Greetings my Lord Anglachelm,

I would like you to know that we wish to take a journey to Eregion for a few reasons for what has transpired in the past few days. One is Lady Himwen wishing to train her recruits there. The other is quite personal to me.