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Diary of an Elven Lord

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Received letter from Maedhros, recounting recent visit to Himring by cousin Fingon. Cousin F. told him there is still no news of Turgon.

Truly baffled as to why M. would think that this is an information I should like to have.

(Memo: check copies of letters sent to M. for queries into the state of Turgon's or other cousins' affairs; could be a sign of sudden madness on my part and/or interference from the Enemy with unknown purpose. For safety, check back as far as two years ago.)

Weather continues fine. Coming harvest should prove better than last year and yield satisfying revenue.


As suspected, did not find a single trace of interest whatsoever for any of our cousins’ whereabouts in copies of my own correspondence to Maedhros or any of my brothers. Why M. felt the need to tell me about any of them thus remains a mystery.

Decided however to drop the matter and not question him about it, since I am afraid it could lead to A Lecture about The Need For Unity Among Our People, and I found myself weary just contemplating such a prospect.

New hunting falcon proves unresponsive to attempts to train him. Acts sluggish, with fits of moodiness. Perhaps its current diet and accommodation are unsuitable for it.


Wrote to Amrod and Amras regarding difficulties with Falcon, as they have often boasted of their expertise on various birds of prey, including to people, such as myself, who do not normally care. Actually sent two letters, one for each, for once, hoping this would mean a greater chance of a swift and useful reply. This proved to be A Mistake.

Received at first a response from Amrod, stating that the current location of Falcon's perch near the stables is probably unsuitable as the smell and busyness of the place must make it nervous. Suggested I moved it to a higher, quieter location, stating some kind of attic would do. Moved the bird but saw no changes in the next two days.

Received then a second letter from Amras, saying that Amrod's suggestion is Fat Load of Nonsense. Draught in the attic could be very harmful for the bird. Gave me extended schematics for the building of an aviary specially tailored to Falcon’s apparently very delicate constitution.

Balked at the expanse this would represent and decided to just put back the accursed bird in its first housing. Apparently tired of being moved around, the ungrateful creature then bit me and nearly took my finger off as I was carrying it downstairs. First sign of it actually being capable of any kind of hunting.

(Memo: find a neighbour to gift the bird to. Make sure that they do not actually live too close to here and are not important enough that I would not want them resenting me for it later).


Mentionned in letter to Amrod and Amras that I got rid of Falcon, as its lasting moodiness made it wholly resistant to any effort on my part to turn it into a useful companion for hunting.

They responded that it must have been the moodiness of its master rubbing off on it.

Decided to gratify this remark with Dignified and Icy Silence. Sadly, this does not translate as well in an exchange of correspondence as in person.


Received dozens of pages worth of verses from Maglor. This is apparently his newest composition which, according to the accompanying and thankfully much shorter letter, he is gifting to most of the Noldor on this side of the sea, and to a number of unfortunate Sindar as well.

Cannot for the life of me figure out the expanse represented by sending such a quantity of parchment (of very fine quality too) throughout Beleriand. This raises the question of whether Maglor's means are hugely superior to what I previously thought, allowing him to just throw money out of his windows, or if he just Does Not Care about going bankrupt. 

(Memo: must try to make subtle enquiries about it in my next letter to Maedhros; must be careful not to come across as envious, however, but to ask simply out of idle curiosity.)

Am now faced with daunting task of composing Pleasant and Thoughtful Reply. Mildly envious of Celegorm who is usually getting away from such chores by adding his signature at the bottom of Curufin's or Celebrimbor's letters.

(It is entirely possible, now that I think about it, that Celegorm does not actually know how to write; I certainly cannot remember receiving any letter of his own hand).


Am being informed by the Kitchens, in a manner that I deem needlessly pointed, that wine supplies are running low and may not hold until the next batch from Thargelion's vines has reached maturity. Am kindly advised to either slow down on consumption or be prepared to import new barrels from nearby lands, no doubt at Great Expanse. First option sadly made more difficult by current state of correspondence with immediate relatives.


Received a letter from Curufin, saying he is happy to announce that he, Celegorm and Celebrimbor would soon travel to Thargelion to visit me.

Can't say I share in the sentiment.

Preoccupations regarding state of wine supplies subsequently made more pressing.


Last message from Curufin stated they were to be expected toward the fourth hour, at the latest, at the border of my lands.

Set out to meet them shortly after the fifth hour, with ample supply of reading and writing material (including Maglor's latest, which I am still struggling through).

Arrived at the meeting point at the sixth hour and settled comfortably for the wait.

Had time to compose long letters to four remaining brothers, by the time my visitors finally appeared on the road.

Wide discrepancy between the hour announced in C.’s letter and actual time of arrival left unmentioned by all, for the sake of Keeping the Peace Among Ourselves.

Had vaguely hoped that Celegorm would leave Truly Enormous Dog behind. No such luck. Kitchen staff even more disgruntled by that fact than I am.


Complimented dear Tyelpë at dinner on his ever growing likeness with his mother, both as regards to his features and to his character, and stated that, as a result, he is truly turning to be the Pride of Our House.

Curufin apparently thought this statement to be Grounds for Offense, which made for a very disagreeable end of the meal.

(As in most of my dealings with my brothers, I am once more plagued with the difficulty of achieving a satisfactory balance between one's moral obligation to retain some modicum of Truth and Honesty in one's speech and action, and the need to avoid chafing one's relatives' very delicate susceptibilities. Think I shall write a Treatise about this, if I even get the time, for I feel my own experiences in that area could prove useful to Future Generations.)

Dear Tyelpë came to find me in the evening to thank me for the compliment and apologize for his father's behaviour. He gifted me some very handsome arm-guards and gauntlets that he had made himself, which have proved sturdy while at the same time being remarkably light and flexible. This only confirmed my previous analysis on his taking after his mother, as the last gift I received from Curufin was the accursed bird I later had to get rid of, out of fear of becoming the second one-handed brother of this family.