After the discovery of the remains of poor Ackerley, feeling as lost and forlorn as I have in many dark years of strife, I am shamefaced to say that I fell into a restless sleep before the fire of the Pony. I was awoken by Nob soon after dawn, throwing a bit of coal from across the room at me lest he approach too closely. Upon the second bombardment, I reached out and caught the flying charcoal without opening my eyes, causing Nob to shriek and hide behind a chair.
Feeling the hour was later than I was accustomed to, I ran up the stairs to my Lady Arahen's room and knocked, delinquent in my duties...however she did not respond and I did not feel her within. Concerned for the welfare of the Daughter of Orodreth I entered the room and as I suspected found the bed unused, but thankfully the majority of her belongings were still in place. It was then that I spied an envelope upon the bedstead addressed to me.
I opened the note greedily, to discover that the Lady Arahen told me within that she she had indeed gone to the Bree Watchers and reported the slaying of the yeoman Ackerley but had then come to a decision. She would ride forth immediately and with haste to complete that mission which had originally placed her on the road through Bree. If done with alacrity it would take her no more than a day or two. She would then return to Bree and remain indefinitely, with the intention of remaining in my company as long as the war allowed us both that freedom and after, and to fight by my side no matter the foe.
I struggled, standing in her chambers surrounded by the scent and feel of the Lady Arahen, to understand the true meaning of all this and the Daughter of Orodreth's words. I remembered the feel of her hand in my hair as I knelt, as she sang to me of two sundered sisters in ancient Aman and their joyous reunion in the midst of battle, I remembered the emotion in her voice as she said my name and welcomed me to her trusted councils. I felt myself grow lightheaded, overwhelmed with a feeling of terrible import and significance, much as I felt when my darling Fille first introduced herself to me. An unexpected moment that changes the course of one's story was upon me again, just as that was.
Such a simple, broken-down place, Bree...but it would forever be golden to me for those gifts it brought me, first Fille and my friends here, now the Lady Arahen.
I folded the precious letter carefully, whispering a prayer to Elbereth for the lady's safety, and tucked it away under my armor near my heart and turned to find Nob poking his head around the edge of the door warily. He had come to tell me that the bereaved Ingfled had returned and awaited me in another chamber.
I came then at once to my new younger sister and embraced her. At first she was confused by my display of kinship, but then gave herself to my comfort, still stunned by the terrible fate that had befallen her family. She informed me that her Dame had taken to bed and that she even refused to eat...poor Ingfled feared for her but her father said that he would see to matters and that his daughter must go out, being a young woman still, and not tie herself to a house of mourning. Though unsure and guilty, she consented for she also had an important errand and wished my council. She had discovered poor Ackerley's private journal, hidden away in his chamber at the farmstead. Though difficult at times to understand due to his abhorrent penmanship, she had read what she could and learned certain elements. The most important of those was that of late, this band of outlaws which Ackerley belonged to had turned to more brutal tasks in which he could not see a clear profit, and that it was led by an outsider, a Southron by his dress, manner and voice. He feared the Southron that he did not name, and felt that the tasks he set his brigands to were not no longer for the purpose of coin, but something darker. It was this realization that first caused him to consider ending his allegiance to them, which came to fruition with the revelation of his father's Watcher history.
If indeed these Brigands were controlled by the hand of the Enemy through this Southron, then matters were indeed far graver then we had believed and Ackerly had died heroically to warn us. Ingfled entrusted the journal to me for its safety and further interpretation and took her leave, still shattered by her tragedy.
I was glad at that moment that the dear Lady Arahen was upon the road and safe from harm and Fille was embroiled with her smithing in the care of her doughty mentor, as it gave me the ability to act with expedience to gain more knowledge without feeling I left them undefended. This news of the Southron made further intelligence essential lest we act too late to stop the greater threat. I knew I had to see how far through the local bandits this matter ran.
I quickly penned a note for my dear Fille telling her I would be hunting Blackwold and not to be concerned and took Nob by the ear. I informed him that he must give that note to Miss Fillegedhiel as soon as he saw her, or it would not go well for him. Perhaps due to my temper at that moment I was a bit cruel and referred to him as a "little goblin" which caused the poor halfling to whimper....however it ensured he would obey my will.
I then rode out into the Chetwood and laid siege to Bronwe's Folly for two days, slaying a small army of Blackwold bandits and learning at least one essential fact. They were as afraid of this Southron as were the other Bree-landers. I knew that the Blackwold had allied themselves with evil forces in the past, but apparently this Southron had put them to shame to the point they would not even state his true name for fear of his patrons. This at once eased my concern, but heightened my resolve.
That night I slept on Bronwe's Folly beneath the stars, and drifted off to sleep thinking of the Lady Arahen and Fille...and I dreamed powerful dreams.
First I dreamed of an assassin made of blue crystal in the livery of a Swan Knight, stalking the halls of the Pony and menacing the Lady Arahen and Fille, mocking my inability to save them from his daggers as they screamed out their pain and rage at my failure.
Then I dreamed of a frozen sky and a dragon in flight and as it flew time moved backwards. The dragon was terrible and beautiful and was formed of bronze and sorrow and it screamed out it's despair into the night in a mortal's voice and its voice was the voice of Cilyniton.
Then I had a dream of such overwhelming sweetness that even in my sleep I wept, and the next day I was ashamed of my weakness. I dreamed that the Lady Arahen had opened her halls in Caras Galadhon unto me and mine and bid us to shelter there in her love and majesty...and I brought Fille and her swain and all that loved her and my dear friends and we lived beneath the safety and dignity of the Banner of Orodreth as I enjoyed the favor and honor of the Lady Arahen. Thusly we turned our back on the Shadow and lived in a tiny island of love and peace as the west burned and all free peoples were torn asunder..and in the dream despite the fall of all that was good in the world I was happy....but in the light of day that happiness brings me burning shame, even now.
My last dream of that night was a sending and it was of my Fille, and her anger before the fire in the Pony for my abandoning of her, and her concern that she would never see me again save as a corpse. I woke feeling her fear and the depth of her emotion and wept again, but for her not myself. In days past such a vision would anger me, as I would feel that she was disrespecting my prowess and judgment. However love had leavened my arrogance and I remembered my own anger when Fille, so competent and caring, was ready to rush into harm to protect that man of Trestlebridge and I was ashamed of my former self
As dawn began to break over the Chetwood I gathered myself and reached out for Fille's sleeping soul and whispered my words of comfort and caring into her heart, with a plea for her forgiveness of my rashness. Then near at hand to her as she slept I felt the halfling Nob about his duties...and commanded him bring her tea to ease her tension.
I rose and saw to my gear and my horse and am now penning these few words. I will presently set forth armed with what I have learned and what I have dreamed, to face the next stage of this peril though I know not what form it will take or what it truly means.
All I know is that I must act to save those I love...for the fires of war approach us even in Bree, and they cannot be hidden from despite my shameful desires to do so.
If my doom approaches, I will face it directly and look it in the eye and in doing so, preserve all that is good in the world...and in myself.
