diary

I find myself in the lands of Men, oddly enough.  Bree, specifically.  Were it up to me, I wouldn't be here.  It's a dirty place, filled with roguish and unsavory folk.  Well, I have met a few kind people, to be truthful, but not enough to make me wish my stay were longer.  I am only here because of the work that needs doing.  I pledged my services, and they shall be given.  But I wish I could move further on down the long road, or at least have need to spend more of my time among more...cultured folk.

I feel strange, writing in this book.  It's like I've taken someone elses thoughts, their personal, private thoughts, and am now writing my own right next to them.  But my handwriting is the same.  My language is the same.

The next morning, I gathered grandfather's armor and put it on.  It was big, bulky, and quite dented.  But strangely it felt like it was meant for me.  Fixing the cloak around my shoulders, and picking up my grandfather's axes, I went out into Bree.

I have lived here for fifteen years, and yet so many facets of the city I did not know of or understood.  Grandfather never let me enter any of the taverns alone, but now I had to.  Perhaps there was someone who might know how I could get a guide back to Rohan.

As I sit by the fire at Ost Guruth, the past few days come to me so vividly.

It was only seven days ago I was at home with grandfather, cooking up that eve's meal.  He was in good spirits then, though his back bothered him.  I had him sitting up in his favorite chair, wrapped in a blanket I made for him.  As I handed him the stew, he surprised me with a question.

"Have you ever thought of heading home, child?"

Hello again, my diary. You are nothing but a simple, leather-bound book, and yet I cannot help but look to you for support. I would like to thank you in advance.

Nothing is simple. Everything that happens to me seems to always end in shock and pain.

While I told Garnold that I could not marry him because of my studies as a scholar, I agreed that we could remain friends...

...today, as I was conversing with a gentleman in the Prancing Pony, Garnold approached, stated a few words of not caring what anyone thinks of him, and then kissed me!

A new page has turned. As I leave behind my writings from Imladris, I joyfully turn to the next page.

Apparently, Beodrid has been harbouring quite some feelings for me, and I only recently became aware of it after I had kissed him, in an attempt to ward off his drunken suitor, Areene, a foolish young girl who had been jumping him and constantly trying to win his affections.

Entry One!

A New Start

Well, i'm currently sitting in my brand-new house, with my brand-new furniture, and my brand-new journal, given to me by a rather odd hobbit by the name of Dungo. It's a strange feeling, the feeling of actually owning something. I like it. I'm not exactly sure how this journal is going to work, so I suppose i'll just write in it whenever I feel like.

Dear Diary.

This is it, the last page I saved, I was going to save it for when the child is born and start a new.

But this last page will be the end of a very long life, a life I have grasped into tight, with the help of a very beautiful and wonferful wife