Bree

Cuilelass had hoped to return to Bree to see the humans she had come to care for.  After awhile in the Misty Mountains in the cold snow, she returned to Rivendell to receive a letter from her beloved and one from her daughter.  This made her rush to Bree, secretly excited to see them once again.

I arrived to the Bree-lands a few days ago. I didn't write anything due to the long journey and my thoughts about the War. I arrived to Archet, but it was completely destroyed, so I decided to go to Combe, that's where I am now.

I haven't got any news of Astnuir. Maybe he's in the north, fighting, or maybe not. I'll try to gather some warriors to find him faster, and fight the enemy together. That's what i'll do today.

The firelight danced on Teleyn's face, heating her already flushed cheeks. Small drops of sweat rolled down her forehead as she shivered under the bear skin and blanket. The warmth of Nimeway's tea had finally worn off and she was cold once again.

Duarion wandered through the woods beyond Bree's south gate, savouring the sweet night air. There was barely any wind and the sky was clear. Whenever the stars shone as brightly as they did that night, he felt at peace.

"So, at last we find each other," a voice came from behind him.

It has been a long time since I last recorded my thoughts. I find my mind is full of recent events - perhaps writing them down will help clear them.

So it seems Bree has not changed. There is always a drunken brawl to be had near the Pony. It turned out that one of the men involved has agreed to become part of House Thorongial! I will have to keep some of these folk in line if they begin to damage our reputation.

Melowen tosses aside the parchment and quill, disappointed with herself.

Stupid, stupid girl.

She never felt the urge to tell the tale in writing, no matter how thrilling or epic was the battle she fought. And now? Feeling compelled to write poetry... no, seriously, poetry? Melowen?

Morithelion gently tugged the mane of the horse, whispering to him in Sindarin. His words were gentle, the beast being but an animal and one who he knew would never judge him. He sighed as they came to rest, and peered out over the open stretch of land. In the distance, he noted a clustering of lights shining in the darkness. The elf cocked his head, for he knew this city, though only in tales and by word of mouth.