ABC3: Rohirric funeral

A typical day in Middle-earth. Fingolwë and I have traveled to Wildermore, where a mysterious force is at work, causing the land to freeze while it should be summer. 

I could tell at once that this was more than a mere coincidence. Even I as a lore-master can only lower the temperature by a subtle amount, and on eight creatures or people at most, with utter concentration. And I have trained hundreds of years for this. It's no easy task to change the environment of a whole region, and at this scale I sense the influence of a Maia. There's only one I can imagine doing such a thing...

But let's not speak of such things now. Fingolwë and I are doing what we can to help and try to see things from the bright side. 

I don't remember what Fingolwë said here, but it made me blush. Bad Elf!

What, you don't know who Fingolwë is, you say? I promise to tell you one day, but not today.

Still, it's hard to stay positive when you see the whole family of Gárwig, thane of Forlaw getting claimed by the ice. The old man is one of the few left in his line, surrounded by mourning women. I don't envy him. We tried to help out with the funeral the best we could, but I cannot help to feel out of place.

These people are short lived, and it's hard to imagine what's the difference in a twenty year more or less to live, but their pain is real and makes me feel uneasy. It's terrible to see how Mankind suffer under the hands of evil once more. Sometimes I wonder if it isn't time for me to head for the Grey Havens and be done with it all.

I'm sorry for this depressing entry, dear diary. This is the diary of an old Elf, after all.

In June, 'the other Ravanel' takes over Ravalation to ponder about her life as an avatar in the light of the Avatar Blogger Challenge (ABC).