Shortly before I acquired my trusty steed Kiaren, I found my way to Rivendell for the first time. I found myself missing the lands of my own people, and it had not been since my time in Celondim and Duillond that I’d experienced the hospitality of elves for any reasonable length of time. Not that I minded that part much: the food, ale, and companionship found among Men, Hobbits, and Dwarves has done much to warm my heart while away.

But there is no substitute for the grace of elven culture and archtecture, and so I set out across the Trollshaws on foot, determined. I passed through the South Trollshaws without incident, but found my first snag when I reached the Bruinen Gorges and found a troll on the road. I expected that given where I was, but I was not strong enough to defeat the troll myself and had no allies nearby to help. After scouting the cliffs surrounding, I could find no easy passage that did not cross paths with either that troll or another.

I decided that the best idea would be to sneak past them, taking the road towards Rivendell and hugging the wall, cloaked in shadow. And it worked! I couldn’t help but grin as I edged around that troll.

My relief was short lived however as I realized that much in the region was more powerful than I, and there were a number of bears in my path.

In a fit of something I can only now determine was desparation, I decided that I had come too far to turn back. So I ran.

The first bear chased me but I outpaced him. A second bear joined him. Then a third.

When the fourth bear began chasing me, I couldn’t do anything but keep running and yell some words I will not repeat here, gentle readers. When I turned around, there were FIVE bears chasing me, and any one of them could have reached out and smashed me to the ground. Bears have terrible breath, I might add!

I don’t know how long I ran; as one bear would lose speed, another would join the chase, and I spotted a moor-stalker in the crowd chasing me as well! I cursed my choice of clothing, hiked up my dress, and kept running for my life, all the time cursing them and their mothers and their cousins. I prayed, I recited poetry to myself in my head, and I thought that I couldn’t possibly die without having a dinner in Rivendell!

I have never feared for my life so badly as I did that day! Finally, after what seemed like countless miles, the bears gave up chase and I found myself entering Rivendell and looking down into the valley. The beautiful land spread out before me, waterfalls and houses and trees!

I knew then I was safe then and it was many days before I dared leave again. And when I did, I thanked the Valar for keeping me safe.

And here I am in Rivendell, at last!

In a twist of fate, I found an armourer in Rivendell who made me a lovely sturdy jacket from a bear pelt, so that I was that much safer when I traveled next. Take that, bears!

I couldn’t get to my fishing pole in time, but I swear it was huge!

Throughout my relatively short (for an elf) life, I have loved swimming. As a girl, I swam in the lakes of Mirkwood, under at first the watchful eyes of my parents and later, alone. On the docks they’d stand, watching me flounder around in the early days of my adventures, prancing in and out of the water half naked, freezing, and grinning like an idiot.

As I grew older and stronger, I learned to swim farther, and I loved every moment in the water. Moving sleekly through it like a fish, I raced the other children and often won. When I didn’t win, I swore to do better and worked harder to beat them next time.

Even when I acquired my trusted steed Kiaren, I still loved swimming, sometimes forsaking him in favor of an often cold swim. These days my gear bogs me down, but it pushes me harder, makes me stronger. The downside is that I have to keep my bow well oiled to keep it from getting too soaked when I need to get somewhere. I bought my house near water so I can swim when I’d like.

I visited Lake Evendim recently. I swam the width of the lake at least five times and back. I think if I ever swim again, it shall be too soon for me. I am getting tired of jumping back in as soon as I’m dry enough after the last time. I have gotten some strange looks as I walk through camp dripping, and no one will sell me a boat!

An unfortunate side effect is that one of my packs has started leaking; unfortunately, it was the one with all my food in it (the upside is that at least I’m not a hobbit, otherwise this could risk being more irritating)! My salty beef delights have become soggy from all the trips and the leak. There is nothing I hate more than soggy salty beef delights!

I dub them “soggy beef delights”, and I’d rather sit in the water and throw them at salamanders than eat the foul things (maybe they’ll eat them?). I look forward to a nice dry desert on my travels after this, that would be splendid.

Until later, my friends, may you be well and find yourself with dry, hot food. :: sigh ::

-Riorean