User blog:Maltalidenta Kwuitidherali/Foina mehletë

(Note, this chapter is about half finished)

It was one morning Itallië got up in her room in Dol Amroth. She started the long walk to Tirith Aear and looked around, the birds were singing and the morning was generally fine. She continued on her way. As she passed each of the common folk, she greeted them in the same friendly way. Big or small, rich or poor, they deserved the same treatment. She lifted her dress as she approached the main road to avoid the mud, and stepped lightly. Soon she reached the tower, but there was a group of people waiting for her. They barred the entrance. At the head of them was Ilmarien, her daughter.

'There's been an… accident. Go home, it will be better for you to be there than here.'

'Surely there is some way I can help?' Came Itallië's reply.

As soon as this was said, an elf ran out dressed in exquisite armour. At least that's what he looked like. He bowed.

'My lady, I bring news.'

'Get up off the floor, Eonwë. We're all friends here.'