Bree

My time within this company grows with each day, and so do the relationships have forged with the members of the company. I am surprised by my own willingness to stay in the Bree lands and be in the company of such mixed races. The Ithilwe of ages past would have scoffed if asked to mingle with men, and most especially dwarves.

This grudge I have held for the mortal kind seems to be softening with age and experience. My readiness to keep their company is growing and I have found many good friends among the members.

I sit in front of the hearth and take a sip of the bottle of dark, red wine I had purchased in Bree. This wine is not quite as deep and flavorful as the elven wine I am more used to, but has a simple and nice taste just the same.

It rained today, or should I say poured. Perhaps the storm in the morning set the tone for my mood today. I have done nothing of importance and just sat in front of this fire all day. I am annoyed, but I know not why.

The fire is still barely crackling and alight but the sound seems to be making me drift off....

Discarded in the corner of the upper room of the Company house is a note. The paper was balled up and tossed aside, though if one were to smooth it out...

*There is a large package with a simple note tied to the top.

The letter reads:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Amathlan, formerly of Gondolin, From Ithilwe Lomelindion....

Being back at my camp is an odd feeling. I had not thought I would be returning to this spot under the trees. Even though I am further from home once more, my heart seems lighter than it did the last time I ventured through these lands. This time, I have good friends and companions who will happily occupy my time. A darkness still lies on these lands, but the new companions I have had the pleasure of meeting have turned the darkness into little more than a shadow in my eyes.

I must be getting flighty in my old age. I have only once or twice in three ages, made such rash decisions before. I am on the road once more and Imladris is behind me for now, but I shall come back soon. Hir Elrond is my lord, and my bow is in service to him, but not like others warriors. He has given me free reign to travel where I think I am needed most, as long as I occasionally return to report to him. That is all well and good for me. 

The wind had picked up, warm gentle gusts making their way down Bree’s dusty streets. The rustle and clapping of washing strung from window to window created its own rhythm above her head. Joy leant against the stone wall surrounding the market square, Hjotr nestled against her chest, bound by cloth. That rustling of linen above lulled her into distant memories as she awaited Kip, the grocer, with the parceling up of her goods.