45 Tuilë, Luin'ithil (May 12th, Blue Moon.)

Yes, Arwen, do not fret. I think it is about time that at one of us knows the real reason why I disbanded from him willingly. Too much pain, too much sorrow and despair… He caused all of it. Now that I look back, it is hard to ever remember a time when he did not make my very soul quake in hurt. Nevertheless, I shall tell you, you have every right to hear the story.

Now, I haven't the slightest of what he has informed you of, but do not let him play the fool and believe it… He is not entirely innocent in all this. I can start from the council, and I shall send re-written things that were in my journal from the Quest. Yes, every word that I wrote then shall be written again—yet it will be to you, Evenstar. I will write as much as I can each day, Arwen, so please, bear with me if I stop short.

"We have just set out on the quest. Once more, he intrigues me. I cannot describe the emotion I feel when I look at him, or when I hear his voice. He spoke to me again the night before we left, and told me many things, which I shall hold dear. He knows of my talent with a bow and is proud to have me on the Quest… I had so much to say to him, ever so much, but had I the heart to speak? Nay, of course I didn't…"

Arwen, I think I shall merely write to you what caused me to feel this way. No… That would also not do. You must know everything, even if it causes me to burn with embarrassment and shame from saying this about your then fiancée and your current husband. I shall continue…

"I think I love him, but as father would say, that I cannot judge. Unless my emotions are given back tenfold, it is merely lust and can never be. My father… He knows nothing of this—he never believed in true love, well, at least up until mother died. After she left, he had given up on all hope; everything romantic that ever lied within him had been stabbed by the black poison of a yrch blade.

"He calls to me again, and I would write more, but it is he I wish to see. Fie—he waves me away, apologizing and saying he meant to call for the dwarf. Fie and spite. The dwarf does not deserve his attention and time—that is belittling to Aragorn…"

I think I hated Gimli mostly due to his race. I never trusted dwarves, and I think Gimli is the only dwarf I shall ever trust. He still dislikes elves, but that is to be assumed. Stubborn dwarf.

"14 Yávië, Malina'ithil (August 15, Yellow Moon.)

"Moria indeed is a very dark place. I find it myself piteous to believe that Gandalf the Grey has passed into shadow and that we are now in Lothlorien with all due help from Haldir. Haldir… It surprises me to this day that he helped me, and consoled me of my fallen friend for so much had happened between us in the past. I was so bold to ask him why, and he told me as he always did: 'Middle Earth is too impure for your tears to reach the ground. Only Mandos deserves them.' No matter how hard I tried, Haldir would not stop caring for me… This makes me feel guilty and shameful, for I have turned away the love of someone like him in hopes of something better.

"My heart tells me I could always turn to him, no matter what anyone did. Speaking of which, I shall write what something that made my heart sing… Aragorn had kissed me—believe it if I may, he truly did! Luckily, for me, it was deep in Moria, and the others were sleeping, so they did not see this fanciful display. Yes, I laugh now that I think of it—finding sleep in Moria? How impossible does that seem? Tis quite preposterous… Yet, it was done. Anyway, I was on watch and he could not sleep. He began to speak to me—in riddles it would seem, and as soon as I caught on to the riddles of which he spoke, I found them to be of me. He then leaned over and kissed me sweetly, tenderly… It was mesmerizing. I still have the brazen taste of him lingering upon my lips, and by that, I mean bold.

"We are now in Lothlorien, and I still think of this happy moment, when I should be giving lament to Gandalf. It hurts me to think of such negative happenings, even though I know I must.

"28 Yávië, Malina'ithil (August 29, Yellow Moon.)

 "We have slain thousands of yrch it would seem, for their countless bodies scatter the ground. Aragorn is tending to Gimli's wounds (I have already remedied mine) and then he shall tend to his own before we set off to find the two periannath that were borne away by the remaining dreadful yrch. How I hate them so… They have caused us all hurt and pain, and I fear they shall torture then kill Merry and Pippin. Such kind souls are they—tis sad to see such a fate befall them."

I truly did feel sorrow for the periannath. Think of it this way, Arwen: think of a beautiful summer day in Rivendell—when the sun is shining with an unrelenting ethereal light, the birds are singing songs sweeter than anything anyone has ever murmured, and everything is at peace. Complete tranquility and heaven… Then suddenly, all of it is swept away in shadow, and a barren dead land remains. Bleached bones of carcass' picked dry by scavengers are scattered about and there are no trees… There are no elves… Only darkness. That is what it would be to see something as innocent as periannath be harmed. Nevertheless…

"Aragorn sought me of late night in 'Lorien, he said he had something important to discuss. He began to speak of the Quest to me, and where we may go, and then talked of how sorrowful the loss of Mithrandir made him. Soon enough, the tables turned, and his lips were upon mine once more, a more deep and passion filled kiss he bestowed on me. He asked if I'd like him to take me, and then and there I made a fool out of myself—all I could do was nod vigorously and plead for him to enchant me once more.

"What could I say of his performance? Besides the fact that I have never felt so lofty before, I am at a loss for words. I could never describe the feeling I had, and how many times I came close to release because of what he had done to me… Honestly, I act like a loon around the man, surely, he has a spell set upon me, there is no other explanation as to why I act irrationally and as to why my heart skips beats.

"There is blood and sweat covering Aragorn, and it does not mar his handsome features, but only enhances them… Alas, he has noticed my staring and has acknowledged it. I have been lucky enough to control what colors my features are so that the dwarf cannot suspect anything. He is now telling us that we shall go, and I plan to follow him as best I can, though I am wary…

"2 Coirë, Carad'ithil (February 2, Red Moon.)

"We have reached Rohan again, finally, after many months of difficulty. One of the 'periannath' are with us again, and Gandalf has returned but in a higher form. How many 'yrchs' more we have killed amazes me, and I dare not count lest I become confused. Times are getting harder, and less hope blooms for Frodo and Sam in Mordor. There is talk that they are both dead, their heads stuck onto posts at the gates of Mordor as crude warnings to all those who oppose Sauron. Yet, that cannot be, for that would mean they have the Ring. That would mean we would all be long dead by now… On the other hand, could it possibly be that Sauron has a strategy this time? Nay, I shudder at the thought of it…"

            Sauron has no strategy, and he never will because his very essence no longer exists and has faded away into complete and utter nothingness. This is quite a good thing. Too bad for me that some things (or people, for that particular matter) cannot fade away entirely. My hands are now steeped in the blood of battle and wrath, something I can never wash away. It is the fate of all who dwell in Ea, for at one time in our lives we must kill to protect something else. Anyway, back onto the last bit of the entry.

"Away with these foul thoughts, I must keep them away. I shall think of him again. My lust and want for him grows yet once more, though he has bedded me in the wild while Gimli slept. No matter how many times I am ravaged by him, I feel the same… Perhaps I feel even more so for him by each passing time. Whatever is happening to me, it is indescribable and I cannot even formulate it into words. I know he is to wed Arwen Undomiel the Evenstar, but he claims he loves me not her, and shall find a way around this hurdle. Even though this will hurt Arwen, I shall be at much joy… I am truly sorry Arwen, but I do not think I am capable of loving another."

            That is all I am able to scribe for today, Arwen. My heart grows weak, and a shadow passes over me, like an irremovable haze or cloud. I shall be fine in the end, however, so do not worry for me. I can always sing and talk to the other elves of late. Yet do write back soon, Arwen, for I would like to know if you wish for me to go on… Moreover, I wish to know if you think of me as a complete liar yet.

Namaarië.

{Present day.}

Aragorn's mind was swimming—all these letters were from Legolas, someone whom he had not seen in what seemed like forever! Suddenly, he finds a box of letters from him to his wife on the day she leaves also; all this seems too suspicious to the man, and he decides to read on, throwing aside all respect for their privacy. "I have every right to know, too, Legolas," muttered the man, with a disapproving tone in his voice akin to anger and jealousy. Aragorn had missed the elf, though he did not show it, and seeing his script and remembering what the two had shared sent a dull throb to ring throughout his heart.

Everything seemed to be going against Aragorn, King of Gondor. Jealousy soon crept up on him, and he contemplated with the idea of his wife having an affair with the Sylvan elf. The thoughts were swept away as quickly as they had come, for Aragorn remembered of their friendship in the past, and Arwen's loyalty—after all, she had given up her immortality to stay with him…

To be continued.