This place is much lovelier to me now that I have my smithy. It will never be Tírion, but neither will it have the Valar's chains. There is a certain peace here, in the chaos, and I like it. This...anonymity and solitude among millions. It has been long since I have known anything resembling peace, indeed, I know not if I ever have.
Today I spent my lunch hour in the park, eating what food I could find that did not repulse me, and I could not help but watch the children, in particular a dark haired little boy with his mother. And as I watched this child of Men, so carefree and happy...I was overcome with sadness, for those years of childhood are so short, and life so quickly becomes filled with pain and loss and despair. But Men, at least, find freedom from this cage after a short time, and I envy them that. For the Children of Men there is no eternal Oath, no doom that follows them to the end of Arda. Nay, in a short lifetime there is freedom beyond the bounds of the world, and peace. Peace that the Ñoldor will never know, unless Eru himself forgives us in the Second Music.
But alas, I speak of nothing.
I found myself this evening picking up an old skill that I have not done in many years; embroidery. It is a relaxing habit, and while
what I did tonight was very simple indeed, I wonder if anyone would be interested in buying it. I have no need for it, as it is a woman's garment, and I have only sons.
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