Manka Lle Sinte

          I will never ask for your sympathy. Nor will I try to make you understand, because understanding as I know it has to be gained with time. If I could only make you know, then perhaps you might begin to understand more easily. For now I can only hope that our patience will hold out while we learn as well as we might with what has been given to us. 

Already I have been changed so much by this land. However the group I have come upon in recent days, not like any other ever known across the land, has pushed the boundaries of my curiosity, and where my zeal and courage have begun to fall short, they have reignited it within me...

 I was born to the men of the South, and I will say so without shame. It is a beautiful land in it's own right. It is an unfortunate truth however, that it's people are without law; ravaged by unceasing war.

I know not who I was born to; from the youngest age I can remember I was under the protection of a nomadic tribe, known as the Tribe of Farmona. A small tribe made up only of women - those who had sought shelter from the bloodshed, and those who like me had been left without home or family to claim for themselves. Our language, though littered with the varying dialects of the South, is as I have come to know it, "Elvish". I wonder now, looking back, if our beloved leader was of our own race, or one who was sent on that specific duty that she filled so well, of gathering those lost sheep and broken innocents, and giving us a chance at life and the ability to hope. 

So much more was it than a refuge! The tribe became a culture of it's own. While many women brought with them their own influences, we were taught songs and dances unlike the ones of my native race. We were taught to speak to animals, and hear the land; that we might find food and water if only we listen.  We were taught methods of battle and defense, healing and how to study maps. We were as much warriors as we were nurturers, healers, and craftsmen. Our strength was not used to fight for power, in the name of greed; nay! It was used to the defend to the defenseless, to seek justice, to lend strength and hope to those who had lost their morale fighting the same causes.

 However, it came at last to end  not even in the last decade. The tribe might have continued on forever but the land is increasingly suffocated with war and it's side effects. We were led then to the land of the North, reaching the place that has laid claim to my heart. We arrived in Gondor.

I could scarcely tell you where the Tribe had gone upon reaching the place. We were together only a short while. To join the men of the North, we would have no choice but to sift our way into their lives however we might.

For myself, I had made home the beautiful port city of Dol Amroth. Although I had deeply fallen in love with it, I could not rest; there was a great upset that the very earth bemoaned and left the animals of the land in unrest. So taking up my sword I have since furthered my path North. I assure you, no encampment of dark beasts, no injustice placed before me has been left to continue their deeds in peace. 

 Not all matters are settled easily, or at all, by one man alone. I have learned my weaknesses and limitations. I first spoke on a strange group and now I will say the rest regarding them. This odd gathering of men and creatures from many places in the great expanse of this land; it is called a Kinship. I have learned of Elf and Dwarf and even half-men and men who can change to the form of a beast. And where one might believe they would all be at odds, they have come together in the same place, in the green hills of what is called the Shire, to fight the  darkness I have tried so hard on my own to diminish.

 In spite of the oddness of the gathering already present, I have felt out of placed and to some extent as though they lack trust in me. I will accept this knowing that is just as likely to change with time as water and wind with time will wear upon stone. I know that my language and ways are different, however my heart beats as theirs do and there is common ground yet to be found.

I finish by saying this. This is my land. I have bled for it, and I will continue to do so as long as l live. I dedicate the breaths that I take, the beatings of my heart in the name of what is right. The blue I wear on my skirt represents Dol Amroth combined with the tears that men have shed against injustice. The red of my scarf - the blood of the fallen innocent and those who fight for freedom, for the good of the land. The purple and golds are a reminder that we as men are not all fallen - we are yet to be deprived of the Kings in all of their majesty! Glory is not gone from the world. We are not without hope or blind, helpless creatures left in the dirt.

It is why I say, "if they knew". They will know, I will give them reason yet to cease their doubts. And in time, they will give me reason to grow in understanding of them also, that when it is all done we might call on each other as friend. 

                                 -Mosaine of Farmona