AN: I hope all the talk of what happened at home isn't too boring for anyone. I figured it would offer some character development while there isn't too much action happening, and add some dialog. If it bothers anyone, please let me know.
July 5, 3018, TA
I estimate to have traveled fifty miles today - so much for an easy pace! My horses seem as hungry for adventure as I am, and I found myself reigning them in more often than not. It may be that they are happy to be returning to the land of their forefathers, if only for a brief time. Holding to the North-South Road, I should make it to Edoras before too long, though I doubt whether or not I will tarry there. Théoden-King has not been over-friendly with my father as of late, and I wish for no trouble from him or his people. Furthermore, I would not have the people of Rohan know the purpose of my journey; I go not to seek aid, as it might appear to some, but simply to find the meaning of my riddle. I would be hard pressed, though, to make Théodred and Éomer believe that! And then there's that scamp of a maiden who, though I cannot recall her name, I do remember to be very forward and opinionated - I'm sure she would have quite a mouthful to say about the steward's son riding off when his country is in such great need! I do not wish to explain myself and my riddle, so I shall likely avoid Edoras altogether. I'm sure Father would wish it that way, too.
The sooner I am out of Gondor and Rohan, the better. I am half-way past the Drúadan Forest, but how I wish I were twice as far, at least! It seems like I know every tree, every shrub. Perhaps when I reach Enedwaith I shall find some vagrant orcs, or even a warg. I suppose Faramir would tell me how foolish I am, did he know my thoughts. It reminds me of a conversation we had the night before I left, when I kept going on to him about the dangers I would likely face.
"Ah, Boromir! Why look for more trouble when there is so much darkness already here?" He asked, shaking his head. I recall a sad look in his eyes, which struck me as strange.
"I know not, Brother," I told him, and it was true; I still am not fully aware of the reason I so long for danger. "I suppose it has been bred into me!" I laughed, trying to dispel the sadness on his face.
Faramir only smiled a little, still looking gloomy.
"I fear for you," he said. "And I fear for myself. What will we do without Captain Boromir here? What will I do if -"
I will not write it. My crazy little brother! He actually thinks I shall not return. The chance of that, my dear Faramir, is too miniscule to be reckoned. You may wish it were so, that you may inherit the rule of Gondor, but that will never be. (Know, my dear brother, that I jest when I write such!)
Woe to me for taking on a journey in the midsummer. Damn this heat! When it is day, riding at a good pace provides some relief for me, in the form of wind rushing past my face. Though, I suspect, it does not do much for the horses. So intense is the heat, it would seem we were at the mouth of Mount Doom itself! Even when the night falls there is no relief. The very earth soaks up the sun's rays during the day, simply so that it may spew the hotness at me when I try to rest. If only there were a breeze to carry some of it away. However, this gives me all the more reason to hasten on. Within two days I expect to reach Mering Stream, where I shall gladly pause my quest to cool off. By then my beasts will be happy to pause as well, I suspect.
Ah! Now that I have written thus there comes a breath of air to chasten me. My life has ever been so; I speak without proper thought, and am rebuked accordingly. How my mother used to lament me as a lost cause! I fear she was right, as I still behave in a like manner.
Gods! Damn, Faramir, this cursed book is now the cause of a tragedy. I have burned my supper, thanks to my occupation with writing in it. If this is supposed to be useful, I'd like to know how. Seeing how small a portion of meat I had to begin with, I just - would there were an orc before me now, that I could rend him with my bare hands! That, perchance, would make me feel better. Yet, even that would not fill my stomach.
I have not the heart to attempt another stew tonight. I am now forced to take my sustenance in the form of dried meat and hard bread - which I am used to, of course, but I had been expecting something nicer tonight. I shall have to think up a suitable punishment for that brother of mine, for forcing me to write in this infernal book.
Additional AN: This one is also short, because not much is going on. To those of you who review, would you rather if I wait and put multiple journal entries in one chapter? (when they're too short) Or should I post each entry as soon as it's finished?
