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The pages in her journal had become loose, slipping from their leather binding. She carefully removed the gathering, beginning to unstring the thongs of leather that bound each parchment without tearing them. She purchased only books crafted with a vellum, favoring the whiteness of this type parchment. It was more costly, and she was careful not to disturb the area around each hole the thongs looped through. Not only did the thongs need replacing but also the boards, she would need order them, cut to the size of the quire . . .Her hands continued to work tirelessly through the motions of repairing the worn book, and her mind wandered back to the meeting a short hour before.

Listening on as she discerned the news the Lord Chancellor presented...as many others, had she anticipated such a move toward negotiation with the drow. Silently making her plea that it would not go beyond those negotiations. Surley, she continued to reason, this would be dealt with before the resolute Commander would need be called upon. It was more than she desired bear through again. Through the men’s argument her eyes fell to the floor with hope that they would press on. They spoke of Cove briefly, but that was where her mind rested. Her home, her people, they had been through so much already...She had continued on with the motions of the meeting, despite the conflict that was rising between the gentlemen. LaBelle held every confidence that they would set such quarrels aside when the time came, how could they not, they served the same man, the same land, and the same people...

She looked down to the neatly thronged pages, and began to sew the gatherings through the centre fold and around the band. She repeated the process until all were fastened securely to the spine. Setting the unfinished book aside she warmed some tea and settled on her stoop with a piece of dry bread. Well into the night she sat, listening to the sounds brought with the darkness before she retired to her sleeping furs.