Grief

Diary, I have long neglected you. The seasons turn -- without Themodir. The apples fall -- without Themodir. We might have gone picking nuts together.

And I deem Norliriel suffers nearly as much as I do, and that is bottomless agony. Again I come to the problem of having some skill fixing the hröa but not the fëa, not over some ocean of grief this deep, while I too am shipwrecked in it.

I am unable to sleep, I have not eaten. My only companion the whiskey gifted me by a friend, I have narrowed it down to one or two suspects. I see the look in her eyes, I can guess as to her thoughts though she does not speak of them. Pacing up and down of a night as she does in that farmhouse of hers. Will she back me?

Note to myself -- shall I send a bird? Would Aulë's Folk let someone read this for me at the Harnkegger Games? I dare not leave the Houses of Healing for long: a patient's life hangs in the balance, and I could not be there by tomorrow in any case without abusing a whole relay of horses...

The Maiden Bride

Oh Diary.

The handwriting is scratchy and shaky, but fully readable, with no possible mistake in the words of the letter.

My dear oath-sister,

Norliriel, the healer in the party who bore Themodir home to Imladris for the last time, was distraught. Upon entering Manadhlaer's chambers -- Manadhlaer, wife of Themodir, who had married a dying Elf-knight as he lay on the path before the Last Homely House; who had become bride and widow in almost the same breath, as Themodir used the last of his to tell his new wife that he had always loved her -- she almost skidded to a halt.

Well beyond the end of the Third Age and the passing of most Elves into the West, this ballad was carefully preserved and sung by Elf-friends in all corners of Middle-earth, some say even the Shire. It was carried by the best of the minstrels home to Valinor, where even Nienna, whose tears of compassion constantly flow, is rumoured to believe it is a worthy expression of grief. The authorship of the song is unknown, but some believe it was originally written by Manadhlaer herself, at least in part.

Ballad of Themodir's Fall

Located in remote mountains at the dwarven outpost of Othrikar there stands a small library, on a table several scrolls are scattered to be read freely by possible passers by. The author may be assumed to have forgotten about leaving them out.