death

Gilsel lay on the bed beside him, on him in part, and he hugged her tightly against his side. Since she had taken the habit of sleeping with him, and furthermore since they got married, he was finally able to sleep peacefully. That night, though, her soothing presence was not enough to dismiss a feeling of uneasiness, but he blamed that on the fact that it was one of the last nights they were going to spend in Bree-Land. For the next two weeks, at least.

Manadhlaer remembered well the time Lord Elrond himself had had to be summoned to the Houses of Healing for a Perian with a wound even she and Norliriel together could not touch. When the great Peredhil emerged from the poor little thing's chamber, he had looked drained but briefly reported that the patient would survive, and athelas steam would not go amiss until the small body regained consciousness.

Something feels overwhelmingly dark and grim about the lands of Ithilien, the land in which Aranya was living her whole life. The ranger felt darkness sinking its claws into once peaceful area of the Old Forests. The Tower of the Rising Moon, which is now known as Minas Morgul, keeps her brothers and sisters in fear as every time she looks at the path leading to it. Every single day she comes there, silently observing the road as if expecting the hordes of enemies approach so he can beware his comrades of the striding Evil, which is about to invade the lands of Moon-land.

The last words of Eorland the Bowman, sung to Audelwyn of Harwick in the alliterative style traditional to the Rohirrim. Along with his parting words, he leaves her the worldly possessions not buried with him, including his horse, hauberk, horn, and cloak.

((The lettering is crisp, clear, and fluid, it was obvious it was not written by Ayla's hand. The page sits under a grave marker.))

Forgiveness Forsaken.
Formalities Forgone.
Filthy existence
Soon to be undone.

Fraudulent Faces Follow
Fragile Facades,
An ebony Feather marks--
Forthcoming rage.

Blood, violence and death.

These are the topics I've all too often heard spoken between those gathered in the local Inn and tavern of Bree-town and the more I have listened the more I've learned what the nature of Men has turned to. It terrifies me.

There Aeruthuil sat, Aadyn's lifeless body in his arms. He rocked back and forth as he shook his head, muttering to himself over and over, ''This isn't real, this is just a dream as always.''
He chews his lip, closing his eyes as tears ran down his face. All that went through his mind, was Aadyn's smile.