The Diaries of Gondor

[Ercassie]

In the land of stone there are countless secrets kept. Hopes, fears, obsessions, and otherwise observations whispered in the dark. Things which the average person may not wish to expel unto the pages of the public visitors' journal in the Minas Tirith Library. Or otherwise confess to any other living soul.

And so the trend of a private diaries thread commenced. (As referenced in the link below - to showcase an example from our glorious yesteryears.)

Click Here for Old Archived example of diary entries in Gondor.




This thread is an opportunity for character development from a different approach to the usual role play. Entries can be individual or part of an agreed collaboration with other writers. Most importantly, it is a tradition of our Kingdom of old, revived.
With full credit to Elen Sila for the original conception thread.



Rules

1. Please post here as though your character is writing in their own private diary. In-Character (IC) posts only.
2. Though dragons and birds, and even a rare dog hero, are given voice in Middle Earth, they are not said to master the quill. So no diary entries here from animals, etc please.
3. Diary entries may be written in the setting of any place, or year that exists within the kingdom of Gondor.
4. What secrets be written here may not be referred to as though common knowledge in other threads, unless your character has a reasonable cause to be aware of the information IC. If in doubt, please check with the writer. Thankyou.

[Ercassie]

Iole Ishen. Minas Tirith, July.

Dear Diary,
I spill my secret here for I dare not speak aloud what has occurred. It would only set the teeth of my friends all on edge, and they are but so very recently set at ease. Either they would concern over much or they might tell me I am crazy. Perhaps I am, and whether so or not, I would not wish to cause alarm. Especially since nothing really has occurred at all. Yet.

It is just that I believe that somebody may be watching me, following my steps. Listening behind the door. Holding back their breath to not be heard themselves. For more than a week now. I see the merest glimpse of some shadow whenever I turn a corner. I hear footsteps that echo in pursuit of my shoes. I imagine .. oh but I feel so silly even writing it down. For you may say that it all sounds conceited of me, or self involved, or simply just paranoid. But I have learned the hard way that it is not impossible to attract unwanted attention. And you would never laugh at me, would you, my dear Diary ? Nor overreact.

If I wrote my parents of this, they would certainly think I am being overdramatic. Too much reading of romantic novels, my father would tell me. And then they would send for me to go back and live with them. But I could not bear to dwell in Pelargir, ever again. Not even for them. Not after .. what the war brought there. I have begged Mother and Father to come back to live here, where it is safer inland. But the sea air is so good for Mother’s lungs that I know they will not return, not while she is improving. One day it might seem safe enough to go out and visit with them. But not now. I scarcely feel safe walking from my front door to my place of work, right now.

My friends would believe me, if I told them. And then they would all return to a state of hyper vigilance, and I do not want to rob them of the relative peace that each seems to have slowly found, since Trevadir’s return. Since Rip’s departure. There has come no trouble or repercussion from either one yet, that I am aware of. Unless it is this .. now ..

I could tell Sorrela of course. But she already thinks that I ought speak to somebody professional, perhaps at the Houses of Healing. As though I have not healed. As though there was any real hurt done to me .. which I suppose there was not really. I was spared, more than once, from what might have been extremely bad. But I am resolved to not be just forever some damsel in distress that she feels sorry or responsible for. I was her first case, as a City Guard, and I do fear sometimes that she considers me still as part of her duty. I suppose safeguarding citizens is technically a Guard's duty. But I am also an independent young woman. I have a job, which I procured myself. I have a home, which I secured for us. I may be the very least of us that is able to protect myself, but I have no desire to evolve into a walking weapon. Do not get me wrong, I am very much appreciative of those who defend us all, against the fell things. But I would not wear a heavy coat when the weather is fair, just in case it rains. And I do not wish to grow hard and prepared and always expecting danger .. although perhaps it seems that I have come to be that way, despite myself. There has been an awful lot of danger. It is hard to believe there may not come more.

So may be I have managed to talk some sense into myself, dear diary. May be it is all my over active imagination. Given all that has occurred before. It is of course understandable. Dear diary, please let me just be crazy.

[Ercassie]

Gildolen Lhacrist. Minas Tirith, July.

I never thought that it should come to this. That I should confide my private thoughts to this bound bundle of parchment. But I am else lacking in more agreeable options to pass time. And also lacking in any sensible information to busy my scroll. I am sorry to do this to you, Book. But I have nothing but time to fill and you have nothing but blank pages, meant for the same assignment.

I had nurtured hopes of course to make you the tool of my revenge, planting in your parchment all the means to bring down my detested enemy. Any nagging memories which might prove significant, might be held safely here, once I randomly recalled them. And then he came to stay. A mere two days, and an actual man about the house to tend to. I did not even think he recognised me at all. But just the proximity brought much back to mind, .. and on the self same day that he departed from this place, I found the pages of this log where I had committed my memories in ink, had been torn out. Their remnants cast to a now illegible mess amidst the ashes in the fireplace. I can only imagine that he somehow saw to such an inconvenience. But I can not prove it. An ongoing frustration, which stands my being here at all somewhat unsatisfying.

I can not even say for sure what I expected when I agreed to employment here, so far from home. There is no Lord to attend to, so my entire education and experience both, for the most part, are all for naught. All others in the household here are of the female persuasion, and it does grow rather tiresome to have their laughter and gossip fill my ears all day and night. Young Claery whines at me to help her with her any errand, while Lotte has named herself as my moral guardian. The noble Lady herself meanwhile is content to see me mostly manage supplies from the marketplace, a feat of shopping which the maid and housekeeper could easily accomplish, but which they call for ‘strong arms’ to bear all that they need back up the Circles for them. It does offer a reprieve of course, for some peace.

So I can not say that the role is entirely without it’s merits. For passing as I do so often at the shop which my Lady owns in the market, there has been cause to drop in food parcels, as clandestinely as I might manage, for the wild man who squats up in the rooms above. I do not so crave to return to service that I look to find a master in such a fellow. But I must say that, in frequenting the vicinity, I have found means to loiter a time, and admire the sweet and oblivious girl who works in the shop itself. Twice now I have meant to break words with her, or at least sow some alibi beyond my bringing deliveries which she is not permitted to unpack. But both times I found that any explanation that might sound half way plausible .. did not make it out of my throat. I offered only the sort of sound that a sick duck who is lost perhaps might manage, and then saw myself swiftly away from bothering her.

You would think the press of womenfolk back at the house would have prepared me for conversing with this other … but instead I am only struck at how apart she stands from the rest of them. Indeed I have loitered near the shop now overlong and enough times to admire this simple feat, and convince myself that I ought just go over and make clear what I am doing there. But for one thing, I am not sure if I am allowed to clue her in to the lodger who is hidden up beyond her rafters. And for the other thing, well there are times I go there, and delay my return to the Fifth Circle, when there are even no parcels to drop off.

[Arnyn]

Tercen. Ithilien, October, Third Age.
About two months after the news

Glaurung's breath. I don't do this often. Most of this notebook's pages are still blank. And for good reason. I'm not a writer. I never was.

Arnyn came back. After her weird ass resignation from those Rangers she loves so much. Which she was so tight-lipped about that even I couldn't get her to talk about it. After coming here and announcing she was going on a trip. Even if she couldn't answer when I asked where this so-called trip would be taking her.

But yeah. It took her half a year, and I guess I can't be too upset about that - since that's usually about how long I take before I go and visit her in the city. But she came back.

Honestly, when I first laid eyes on her and I saw that blasted blue stone around her neck, I figured the bastard had finally made his move. With them not being in the chain of command together anymore and all that crap about honor and duty falling away. But then I saw the look in her eyes. Turns out I wasn't wrong about that stone being the same one De Mein always wore - but he didn't give it to her in person. The idiot went and got himself killed. Left her the bloody thing. It broke my freaking heart, seeing the way she looked - her expression - the way she was clutching that stone as she told me. To fall apart in my arms. Probably not for the first time either. Though likely for the first time with someone around to actually comfort her.
Despite all the love she claims to have for her precious Hyandaner, despite all the love she claims to receive - I know she's rarely vulnerable with them. I think she'd never let them see something shatter her strength like this. Not even now she's not in their ranks anymore. Or at least that's what I figure. Her fear of no longer being accepted if she wobbles... it runs too deep.

I'm probably being unfair. But I'm angry, damn it. That's why I'm writing this down - with the meager hope that I can get rid of my anger this way. Plenty of people claim it works. So why not try, right? So hey, stupid, lifeless notebook. I'm angry my sister is grieving. I'm angry her 'shadow' left her that stone. I'm angry it'll serve as a permanent reminder of him around her neck. I'm angry that, even in death, his brooding shadow will go with her wherever she goes. I wonder if she'll ever take it off. I wonder if she'll ever look at it and not relive the pain and sadness. She'd better. If not, when I die myself, I swear to Mandos I will hunt De Mein down in His Halls - if he's still there.

[Rillewen]

Aderic
Sometime in the Autumn

I have begun to lose track of the dates by this point. I have thought about asking one of my guards, but they probably wouldn't reply. And even if they did, it would only add to my frustration, knowing how long I have been imprisoned here. I can hardly believe it when I see the trees changing color, down below my balcony window. That, and the chill in the air is all that I have to go on, but by it, I know it has become autumn. It was July when I first came here, seeking Mar! I feel so helpless, foolish, and, well, angry. Angry at myself, for getting myself into this predicament. Angry at my brother, for putting me into it. Angry at his servants for following his orders, and not their consciences. They must know that this is wrong! Yet they do nothing to help me.

The rooms are comfortable enough, at least, but I grow increasingly more anxious to put distance between myself and this horrid castle. And would it harm the old lady who cleans my rooms to at least speak to me? At times, I fear I am losing my sanity, having no one to speak with. Despair is clawing at my heart, and if it were not for certain vows that I have sworn to fulfil, which are yet unfulfilled, I believe I might have sought an easier way out of this cage.

Out of a desperate need to cling to whatever sanity remains to me, I have decided that I might as well make use of this stack of paper that sits on the desk, waiting to be used. Someone took my other journal, the one which I had poured so much information into. That still irks me. I had so many things written down there. I feel sure that I was on the very brink of finding some sort of proof against Mar; proof that he had committed a crime that he could be convicted of without doubt. I had chronicled everything that I learned that stood out as odd. Times when I had a day off, and someone would tell me that I had worked, or when I had been home all day, but someone saw me out and about. Other times, when someone would speak to me as if they knew me, when I had never seen them before. Times, when I had gone to visit Mar, and found that he was not home, only to learn that I had supposedly done this or that, at that time. Suspicious, yes, but nothing that would hold up in a courtroom, much to my annoyance. I had made careful notes about any and all of these such instances, in an attempt to collate all of the facts and data I had accumulated over the course of the past year... only to have it all vanish in a moment.

I'm sure I will never be able to re-acquire all of that information, but it seems rather useless, now anyway. I'm sure I can never return to the White City again, and that brings me sorrow. How could I have been so blind, all my life? How did I never realize what my brother was really like? I grew up with him, and yet I barely knew him. I do now. Or at least, I am wise to him, now. I still can't believe how many times as a child, he convinced me I was losing my mind, or that I had blacked out and done things I didn't remember doing. I told myself, once I realized he had been using me and manipulating me all of our lives, I vowed that I would no longer let him do that to me. And yet, here I am now, stuck in this fancy prison. Useless. Forgotten. Friendless.

At least, some tiny amount of good has come of my being here, I suppose. I hope. Assuming the steward wasn't lying to me when he told me that Halberion Veranis was being fed daily, now. I still can hardly believe that he has been locked away, down in that deep, dark dungeon for all these years, and no one knew. No one except Alyssa. If only she had told me... but what could I have done, even then? Maybe nothing. Or, maybe I could have helped. Would I have believed her, even? I want to say that I would have, but I found so much of what she told me about Mar too difficult to truly believe her. But I could not deny what was before my very eyes.

It all seems like a dream, now. Finding him, hardly more than a living skeleton. Helping him out of that chair. Giving him food. How I wish I'd had more to give him. I don't know how the man has clung to life for this long, but it brings me hope and encouragement. If lord Veranis can somehow survive, against all odds, in the miserable, cruel conditions which he was subjected to, then I have no room to complain of my cushioned, many-roomed prison. I am beyond fortunate, I suppose. For Mar probably figures he still has some way that he can use me, or else he is holding me prisoner until he thinks of how I can be of use to him.

Well, two can play that game, as the saying goes. I will make use of this time to do my own plotting, and I will find another, more successful way to escape from this gilded cage. And when I do, I will find a way to put a stop to the monster who wears the same face as me. Writing my thoughts down here certainly helps me to sort them out, so I will continue to write down whatever I can think of. Soon, perhaps, an idea will come to me.

[Rillewen]

Wisteria

So, I found this blank book here in the attic, and I have no idea who it might have once belonged to. But they apparently didn't want it, so I figured it would make a good way to practice my writing. I never did anything like this before, so I don't know how people usually do it. But it seems like a good way to keep track of things. What do I need to keep track of? Well, my goals I guess. And how well I'm making progress with them. When I first set out from the orphanage, three years ago, I was pretty scared. I had no idea what I was going to do, where I was going to go, or how I was going to survive. But did they care? Why should they? I was just another kid who'd grown old enough to fend for myself. So that's what I'm doing. Fending for myself, my own way.

It's not too bad, living in this attic. There's lots of neat stuff. Broken stuff, sure, but still interesting. A cracked mirror, which is useful in checking my posture and such when I'm practicing dance moves. An old spinet with a lot of broken keys, for instance. It's way out of tune, of course. If I had any interest in learning to play it, I could probably learn on it, but then, that might make a bit too much noise. So it's probably best that I don't mess with it. Still, I love the big window alcove it's sitting in. There's three big arching windows all together in a half circle, sorta. And you can watch the people walking around on the streets far below. It's much nicer up here than it was in the lower circles, even if it is a bit windier.

There's other windows up here, too. It gets a bit too drafty up here when winter comes around, but right now, being summer, it's a little hot. So it's nice to have the windows so I can open them up and let the breeze in. One of the things I like best about this place is how big and roomy it is. It's perfect for practice! I mean, sure there's a few loose floorboards I have to watch out for, and low ceiling beams to be mindful of, at the edges. And I gotta be careful not to make too much noise when the place is open, but for the most part, it's pretty great. I've been living here.. well, ever since war got over, and Ms. Esme said all of us who'd reached the age of twelve had to find jobs and go out on our own to make room for the newer kids coming in. Lots of new orphans after all that fighting, sadly. I guess most of the boys helped with the fighting however they could. I don't know how many of them survived, but I have only seen one or two around, since then. I've not seen many of the girls I used to know. Probably most got married or whatever, or else they found jobs in the laundry house or something. Not me. I'm aspiring for something much better!

Alright, so being the cleaning girl at the Hall of Song isn't the most glamorous job, but it isn't permanent, and it gives me a perfect chance to learn all about dancing. And that's what I want to do more than anything, so this is the best job I could have, in the meanwhile. I mean, hardly anyone even pays attention to me when I'm lurking around, watching the dance lessons. So long as I get my work done by the end of the day, and don't get caught spying on the dance classes the rich girls get to have. I usually pretend to be dusting or something while they're doing their classes, so I can watch and listen, and practice the same things later.

This book should help me with that, too. I can write down all the things I can remember from the dance lessons, so I don't forget. I can remember pretty well, but I figure it could be useful to write things down, too. Today, Ms Nîneth had the class practicing pirouettes, which looked really fun. I can't wait to try that out, I just hope I'll be able to manage on my own without a teacher to help me. I tried to memorize everything she told the rich girls, but I'll write it down here to help me remember.

• First, practice without turning. You should be able to hold the retire position on releve before you even think about trying to turn.
• Straighten your supporting leg to keep your releve should be as high as possible, imagine yourself stretching up to the sky, and into the ground!
• Make sure you have a strong plie prep but don't stay in your plie too long, because then you will lose the momentum, making it difficult to pirouette. Bend your knees and push off the back leg. You should move into retire position on releve. At the same time, close your left arm into first position and bring the left side of your back around. While turning, you should keep your hips stacked under your shoulders, there should be no curve in your spine. This will ensure better balance.
• Point the retire foot hard. Imagine you're bringing that retire higher as you turn. This will also keep your center up and balanced. Make sure you keep your supporting leg nice and straight, and don't let your ankle slouch, or you lose your balance. Also remember to spot, so you don't get dizzy. As you are turning, look at a spot on the wall level with your eyes and as you rotate, attempt to keep it in sight at all times, you'll have to whip your head around to find it again with each rotation.
• Don't try double or triple pirouettes if you can't get a single down.
• Focus on going up, not around. Imagine someone is pulling you by a string on the top of your head.
• Stop and return to fourth position. Your feet should be placed in the same position they were when you started.

I'm going to practice this every evening for as long as I can, until I have to sleep. I want to be able to do it perfectly! It looks so beautiful when Ms. Nîneth does it, and I've seen some of the dancers on the stage do it during the performances. I just love watching them dance, but I can't wait for my chance to get out on the stage myself. I heard a rumor that there's going to be a performance sometime next summer, and there's going to be auditions at the beginning of the year. I intend to be in those auditions no matter what, so I must learn all that I can in the meanwhile. I want to be the best one out there, so I'll finally have my chance. I'm going to be a ballet dancer someday, I just have to keep training and working to be sure that I'm the best one in the auditions. I have to be good enough to be chosen above the best girls in Ms. Nîneth's class.

The hard thing about that is finding the time to practice in between all my work, while all those rich girls get to take the classes without worrying about money at all. They all treat me like I'm a nobody, and they laugh at my dream to become a dancer. Someday though, I'll be the best ballerina anyone's ever seen, and I'll have somewhere nicer to live than an attic that I'm not technically supposed to be living in. I don't know how long it'll be before it happens, but it's going to happen. Hopefully, this upcoming audition will be the beginning of my success!

But enough of this rambling writings to myself. My hand is getting tired from all this writing.. I haven't done hardly any since the basic schooling Ms Esme put us through at the orphanage. I'd better put this book away and get started on my practice, or I'll have no time to do it!

Till next time,
-Wist

Ps, not sure why I signed off like it was a letter. A letter to who? Myself? Silly me! Anyway, off to practice now!

[Ercassie]

Unalmis Raxëlilta, Minas Tirith. December

Well, I’m back.

And I would apologise for spouting such utter nonsense as I'm about to get to but, since it is not the first time and, let’s face it, we both know that it will not be the last .. then how sorry can I really be ? In truth what I am really sorry for is that I have to resort this to a quill and parchment for there is no other way to get it out. I might choke on it else. Those words which I can not speak aloud. They are as infuriating as the thoughts that I can make no sense of. And you are possibly the only one who would understand. You always did. I didn’t even have to tell you, and you made clear somehow that you knew, you made clear to me what I ought to do. Without my ever having to ask. Stupid Know-it-all ! No, don't get offended. You can't get offended if you have no real way of reading this. And I guess you weren't really, a know-it-all. Probably just being that little bit older, you got to everything just before I did. So you knew what I would be facing, and you could report back how to get through it. You had all the answers. Or maybe your older brothers told you. I wish I had an older brother. Nardy absolutely does not count. He's only ever told me what NOT to do, which according to him is anything worth doing. Somehow even with ignoring his 'sage' advice, I am still here, somehow.

I wish you were here now. Because I do not know what to do, or whether anything even is to be done. It feels like doing nothing is even doing something wrong right now. Wrong .. right … Well that part really made no sense at all, did it ? And how would you be able to help me with any of this, when .. now I guess that you being that little bit older doesn’t help much. I am older already now than you will ever be. So you don’t know. Gads, we didn’t have a clue, did we ? When we imagined how growing up would be. That any of this was coming. It was supposed to be us out there, having wild adventures, making the world safe for the people that mattered. Doing it without you .. it’s difficult. It’s difficult to even explain really.

By now you’d be asking me why I’m wasting parchment then ? Especially when we both know I’m only going to roll this nonsense up into a ball when I’m done and throw it in the fire. Just like the last time, and the time before that. It’s not like you’ll ever even read any of this, or somehow know .. You can’t exactly answer, can you ? But it helps to imagine that you’re listening. It’s easier to share it, when I pretend that somehow this reaches you. I can’t share like this with anybody else. They all have somebody else. Clearly I’m an idiot. Because I can’t get excited about being with anyone who isn’t going to always be there. And I can’t imagine spending always with anyone who actually wants to stick around. Which means you're stuck with me, I guess !


I missed you the other night. We all did. It doesn’t take your birthday to bring you to mind. When I see something incredible or hear something funny, my first thought is still to share it with you .. And I can’t. I can’t even ask the others if it is the same for them. It always ends up with tears and upset, especially the girls. And that is just .. wrong. Because you were the opposite of upset. You were great. You made me forget the upset. I don’t want to think of you and be upset. I definitely don't want to bring the upset when they're not. So, you guessed it .. that's why I come to you. You're incapable of getting upset any more. There must be some sort of positive there I suppose.

I don’t want to think of .. what happened to you at all though. Because you should be here. Not just because I need you. Just because you had no business leaving so soon. There was so much you were going to do. And now you won’t. And doing it without you, .. some days it is like an invisible punch to the gut. Knowing that you never will. And everything is changing, everyone is changing. So I guess I don’t think I want to. Because if I do, somehow .. I’m leaving not just the me that I used to be behind me. I am leaving behind the me that knew you. And honestly, the me that I am ? I'm not sure what that guy is doing !

I’m not sure I’m ready to be the me who doesn’t need you. Which really means I’m fighting a losing battle here. Because by trying not to change, I’m losing everybody else. And you’re not even here, not really. So why am I even writing this then ? Why am I now reporting back to you where I’m going where you now never will, all the things that you will never need to know ? I guess what it comes down to is, I miss you. I don’t want to miss you and I also don’t want to not miss you any more.

I guess I was right to apologise. This really is absolute nonsense. Time to feed the fire. Until next time.

[Hanasian]

Gilrénna

Personal Journal
Entry Date: 13th Nórui (Nárië) 101 of the 4th Age (IV)

It has been a very busy fortnight since I had arrived in Minas Tirith. The copying, recording, and preserving of so many old parchments that had gathered in the archives of the Library is a task that has been time consuming and will take an undetermined amount of time. As much as I'd love to assist in this massive project, my time in the city of the sun will only be for another month before I have to travel back north.

So it was that I chose to work exclusively on all that could be found on the fateful years of 1900 to 1970 of the 3rd Age (III). More specifically, the writings of Firiel, daughter of King Ondoher and bride to King Arvedui of Arthedain. There was little knowledge in the north about Firiel as queen of Arthedain, though some accounts in the Library of Rivendell say that she was seen being slain when Fornost was sacked, though there are other later accounts from her sons that she indeed lived and fled west to Lindon with the refugees that had managed to get away. What I was discovering here was her earlier life in Minas Tirith, and accounts of the happier days with her brothers.

Accounts of Firiel's betrothal to King Arvedui are varied, but there seems to have been much correspondence between Prince Arvedui and Princess Firiel in the years leading to their marriage. A trove of letters from Arvedui were stored there, but only incomplete drafts of Firiel's letters to Arvedui. This was obviously due to Firiel sending the final draft north to Arvedui. Most everything that was in Fornost at the time of the downfall had been destroyed.

I expect to be working long days and nights while I am here, but tonight, Dorhilan, a young man visiting from from the north was in the library, and he recognized me from a meeting years ago at a market. I did remember him, but I felt embarrassed as I was young and silly then. Still, asked me if I would accompany him to the theatre and to dine with him. My mind was screaming 'no!' as I was too busy, but somehow his charm had my lips say yes. His asking for assistance in locating the records of the War of the Ring was endearing, mainly due to the sound of his voice. One so handsome who comes to libraries to research their family history seemed a rarity even in these enlightened days. He was looking for news of his father, who was one of the Dúnedain Rangers who rode south in the war. I will have more to say about this after I talk with him and get to know him more.

[Isolde Alarion]

Personal Journal
Midnight the Cat

Meow,. Meow. Prrr. Hiss Hiss!!
Prrrrrr..Meoooww!

Pst!Pst!!

[Vardarianna]

Vardarianna

22 Ivanneth - 40 IV

Today was my thirteenth birthday, and for the most part, I had the attention of my father for the morning. He gifted me a rather large garden to the west of Annúminas, and a young dark grey colt, and when he took me to the stables to see him, I had his ear. We took a rode together and I quickly bonded with my gifted steed. I had named him 'Stormwind' when he was born, and through his young years, we had formed a bond. I admit I was overjoyed when he became mine. On a winding trail through Halfirien Wood, I steadied Stormwind and I knew that he and I were one when I rode him.

When we came to the top of Halfirien, dad asked what I would have wished for that he had the power to grant. I told him that the new reunited kingdom should be ruled by Numenorean Law. He gave me a pondering look, and I explained that the law of succession should be the eldest child, not the eldest male child. He grew quiet and after long moments, he said he would take my suggestion 'under advisement'. I knew he already held my little brother Eldarion to be the heir of Arnor and Gondor, and it wasn't that I thought my little brother wouldn't make a good king. but I wanted to give him something to think about, and I wanted the reunited kingdom to be fair.

[Vardarianna]

Vardarianna

15 Ninui - 41 IV

It's raining again this morning. That makes six days in a row! As much as I like the library and practicing my singing and writing my dreams in a journal. I need to get out of this house. I want to ride Stormwind to Ithilien and see the lush green land of Emyn Arnen again! My brother and little sisters are really annoying me right now. It's probably the weather affecting them as well. I have to do something... I think I will wander out into the courtyard and dance in the rain!

___________________

16 Ninui - 41 IV

I am hoping the rain recedes today. My stunt yesterday was lovely, as the rain falling on me was quite soothing... at least for a while. Then I got cold. Mother scolded me for 'ruining' one of my good dresses, but it wasn't ruined. It is drying out. Now if I can only shake this sniffly nose I seem to have today...

___________________

[Vardarianna]

17 Ninui - 41 IV

The weather cleared up today! I prepared to ride Stormwind, but my mother demanded I take Eldariën with me. Despite my protest that Eldarion was just playing a war game with one of his friends and could watch her, it was to little avail. He pretty much got to do what he wanted, which meant she had to watch her little sisters. Though having a six-year-old tagging along with me on her pony, it ruled out going to Ithilien. They would have to stay within the Rammas Echor, so I said we were going to the Anduin. It was a five-mile ride due east of Minas Tirith and had always been a favorite place of mine because I could overlook the river and see the hills of Emyn Arnen. I didn't mind my sister Eldariën. She was definitely a follower and had a more artistic spirit than me. Trouble was she liked following both me and Eldarion. I shouldn't complain about her coming with me. I need to keep her head clear of the patriarchy at least a little bit.