Far Afield, or
Across the Distance

Linnath dearest,

It is a good thing that people don't read our letters, especially prospective husbands. You will pardon me for think of prospective husbands, but I was just thinking that the worst person to get hold of the letters would them. Then they would no longer be prospective husbands! Perhaps that is a good thing though. Hairy toes indeed, what precious memories!

I am sorry for being so ridiculous, I have a splitting head-ache and that is making me by turns silly and irascible. Don't ask me what is giving me the head-ache. I am ashamed to even think about it. There I am being silly again; it wasn't really my fault, though I could have been more careful. Still it was exhilarating while it lasted.

Are you disturbed yet? You should be. I am afraid that I drank too much last night. Having never drank anything stronger than grandmothers raspberry wine (more like vinegar) I should have known better.

We had a feast last-night; it was a celebration for some victory hundreds of years ago. There was so much food that the table really did creak! And the dancing! The dancing was so beautiful, whirling people dancing complicated steps. It really was a whirl, not the slow and stately dances of home; I liked it much better though. It had the same wild, free feeling that this whole land has, but it also tires you very quickly. I was not lacking for partners and I think that by the end of the night I was infamous for stepping on my partner's feet, but they all took it in good humor.

I was standing back against the wall resting from the last whirl on the dance floor when a shadow fell over my face, a very tall shadow. It was Istannon; I must confess that I was rather annoyed with him; I don't remember why, I certainly had no reason to be, as he had not even spoken to me in the weeks that he had been here. It might have been the wine.

He asked for a dance and I just stared coldly at him, "You are from Dol Amroth, are you not?" I queried, knowing full well that he was. He simply nodded. "Perhaps you are not accustomed, but in the White City it only polite to be introduced to a lady before a dance is asked of her." He stared at me for what must have been only ten seconds. My heart pounded and each beat took forever. Finally he drew himself up and was about to speak, when Seolfor appeared like an apparition at my side. Wordlessly he offered me his hand and led me onto the dance floor. It was strange, but somehow Seolfor looked different, with his longish hair pulled away from his forehead and his face clean He looked proud, straight and royal. I did not like it.

"Was he offending you, little one?" Seolfor asked gently. Being called 'little one' should have made me angry, but I could only shake my head. I was ashamed even then of my behavior.

Lord Eomer whirled past us with his sister; she flashed a smile at me. As they passed us I caught sight of Istannon again, he was watching me with a slight frown. Suddenly he seemed to suck in his breath and his frown deepened. The look he wore truly frightened me, fierce and angry, yet with an undercurrent of something else. It was that something else that frightened me. Then he turned and quickly left the hall.

I was upset and frightened, and a little intoxicated. All I wanted to do was to lay my head down of Seolfor's shoulder and cry. Everything got a bit blurry from there on. I remember Seolfor helping me stumble to my room. At the door to my chamber he left me to fetch Lady Eowyn. As he turned I seemed to see a small clasp in his hair; it was a swan with a sapphire eye.

I must have fainted for I remember nothing, till I woke this morning with a pounding headache. I opened my eyes, then immediately shut them again. The sun, pouring in the window hit my bed causing my eyes to ache, instantly I covered my head with the blankets.

I heard movements across the room and Lady Eowyn's voice; "You are awake at last, I have been waiting. I have never seen anyone go tipsy as fast as you did. Have you never had anything to drink before?" It was unkind of her to tease me; she sat down on the edge of my bed, "Oh Eleiel, if I had known you were not used to strong drink I would not have let you drink so much. I am sorry." She sounded genuinely sorry, but I did not want to get up yet, so she pulled the blankets off my head.

"Here, Eleiel. Drink this it will help the headache." I managed to pry my eyes open and downed that horrible stuff. It was like a bitter fire down my throat, but worked somewhat; the light did not hurt as much. However, I do not want to know what was in it.

Now I think I have used a good deal of paper, and paper is not very common on Rohan. So I must hurry and tell this latest discovery.

This morning when I went to visit my mare I stopped to watch Geféa trying to teach Beadumód how to milk a goat. A very ornery goat. Every time he got a few teaspoons into the bucket the goat knocked it over. And Geféa would just bend over laughing. I have never heard her laugh so much. Finally Beadumód lost his patience and slapped the goat on the rump. I have never, never seen anything move as fact as the she-goat did. She kicked Beadumód and was half way across the stable yard before I realized it. Beadumód picked himself up quickly and gave the goat chase. That was almost as amusing as watching him try to milk it. By the time it was caught everyone who was in the yard had joined in the chase including me and the dwarf. It was Master Gimli who finally caught it, saying it was his right as the beast had bitten his finger.

But that is not what I was going to tell you. When Beadumód was kicked over the front of his shirt and his shoulder was torn to ribbons, and I could see that there was something on his skin. During the chase I got close enough to look at them. They were markings, like the kind that were on the Haradrim we fixed up in the Houses of Healing, only they seemed much better, more artistic. On his shoulder was a black and red design that reminded me of an Oliphant's head. There were also places that had what looked like the remnants of gold paint. The figure on his chest was also red and black, but I could not see what it was.

I have thought about it but the only other place I have seen those marks was on the Haradrim that we treated. I do not know what to make of this strange person! Though he has never been a nice, cheerful person, he has a gentle way with horses. I do not want to think ill of him; but what on Middle-Earth is he doing with those markings all over his body? He seems an all to suspicious character to be real.

Also I have never heard him say a word of Rohirric. The others do not generally speak it when I am around, but often they throw a word in, especially when they lose their tempers. Beadumód never does, almost as though he does not speak it.

It was very lucky for you that that man had not realized you were eves-dropping, though I feel sorry for that poor girl. Especially now that I think I know who has the second piece. Before you think it, Seolfor did not steal it. He couldn't have. He just couldn't!

I am getting very suspicious of the Haradrim; they seem to be confusing everything. I wish someone would go to them and spank whoever is responsible for your mess. Who do they think they are?

There I am being irascible again.

I must stop now Linnath before I lose the first part of this missive; the wind has already stolen it twice. I hope that we can see each other soon; though Rohan is beautiful and these events very intriguing, I long for someone familiar and steady. Someone I can laugh and giggle with.

Navaer my friend, may your hairy toes never fall off.

Eleiel

Thank you all again!