Letters from Middle Earth

[Maciliel]

Hi folks - I usually post over at SF-fandom, where the original of this thread is posted. afro-elf suggested that I post it over here too, so I'm putting up the opening post and a couple of other posts that I made to it. The original thread at SF-Fandom has gotten quite long and is filled with fascinating letters and other documents contributed by very talented people indeed. Go here for more:
http://www.sf-fandom.com/vbulletin/s...s=&threadid=77

Dear Friends,

As some of you already know, I recently came into possession of a trunk full of old letters – some seeming to be originals, while others appear to be painstakingly transcribed and already quite old copies of very ancient documents. While all such antiquities are of inestimable value, what I hope will be of interest to you is that these are written in Quenyan, Sindarin, Dwarvish, Westron and Rohirric, as well as less used or less-known languages and dialects of Middle Earth. There are even some that appear to be in the tongues of Khand and the Harads. The pages are covered in Tengwar, the Cirth and even some, much to my amazement, in Sarati. As I am busy with the demands of work, family and my own on-going project of transcribing a collection of family papers to disk, I am writing to ask if you would be interested in helping me translate these priceless missives.

It appears the letters were written over the course of the first four ages of Middle Earth and by a large collection of people. They cover quite a range of matters - from mundane daily business to heart-wrenching declarations of love written on the eve of battle, from amusing accounts of parties and endearing recollections of family events to important documents of state. There seem to be several series of on-going correspondence, the contributions of both parties included. In some cases there are letters from several people regarding an event, situation or other topic. I’ve tried my hand at translating a few of them (see below), but as you know, my time is limited.

While I know you have your own busy lives to lead, it is my hope that this endeavor might prove an interesting diversion for dreary February evenings or at such times that you find yourself free of care, yet wanting some intriguing pursuit to occupy your mind. And while there is no rush, I will wait with eager expectation to see what light your efforts may shed upon the contents of this trunk, thereby furthering our knowledge of Middle Earth.

Most sincerely,
Maciliel

P.S. Please take note that inaccuracies, oddities, anachronisms, discrepancies or peculiarities of any sort that occur in any of the translations are most likely attributable to the difficulties involved in deciphering such ancient manuscripts. You see, so many of them are so faded and fragile -- the inks are deteriorating and the parchments, vellums and papers crumble and deteriorate with even the most careful handling. And of course, there may be errors in the aged facsimiles of even older originals. I am sure however, that if anyone does notice information that seems problematic, they will let the translator know so they can take another look at the manuscript.

P.P.S. I would like to thank Dixieberry for her help with putting the documents into plastic archival sleeves. It was quite a delicate and time consuming endeavor that went much more quickly and enjoyably thanks to her capable assistance.

[Maciliel]

15 Sülimé 3019

My dearest Linwen,

I wish to scribe a few lines that I hope may fall under your eyes should it come to pass, as my heart forebodes, that I am not among those who return at journey’s end.

We found my kinsman Aragorn in the country of the Rohirrim, a people proud and strong, and are now camped at Dunharrow, a stronghold in their land. Tomorrow our company, under Aragorn’s lead, will set forth to follow a path that none have dared ere now, but so we must for Darkness strives to overwhelm our world and we must make our way south with utmost haste.
The life of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth now leans upon the triumph of our desperate efforts. I see ever more fully how great a debt we owe to the blood of all those who went before us in the struggle against Evil. And I am willing – fully willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to make sure their efforts were not waged in vain.

Linwen, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty chains that none but Iluvatar can break; and yet my love of Middle Earth comes over me like a strong wind and bears me with all those ties to the battlefield. The memories of all the moments we have shared come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to Iluvatar and you, that I chanced to find you in my life of wandering, and that it has been your arms that have welcomed me home from my many journeys in the too few years we have had together. And how hard it is for me to give these years up and burn to ashes the hope of the future, when, Iluvatar willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our young son and perhaps more children grown to honorable maturity.

If I do not return, never forget how much I loved you, nor that when my last breath escapes me, I will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have sometimes been!

Linwen, if the dead can come back to this earth and fly unseen around those they love, I shall be with you always, in the brightest day and in the darkest night...always, always. And when the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.
Linwen, mourn me not if I should not return; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again.

Halbarad
* * * *
Halbarad of the Dunedain was killed eight days later at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields.
Note from the Translator: Oddly enough, this letter bears a most startling and respectful resemblance to a letter written by Sullivan Ballou, a Major in the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteers, to his wife on July 14,1861, a week before he was killed in the Battle of Bull Run in the American Civil War.

[Maciliel]

Imladris, T.A. 2511

My daughter,

Ere you receive this letter I will have sailed to the West. We will have talked and I will have imparted to you knowledge that you must keep close within your thoughts. I write this letter so that at those times when your own heart is beset with doubt and wavering, nay even terror, you may have some substantial evidence of my great faith in you. Your father and brothers will have need of your strength, your patience and your great capacity for that profound hope that our people call estel.

Oh my child, you are such a cherished treasure, but your future is obscured to me. In the glimpses that I catch, it is truly as though the vision is hidden by dark and swiftly moving clouds. I hesitate to tell you of foreseen images filled with ominous foreboding, terrible peril and overwhelming fear, yet I do so because always my dreams have ended with the coming of dawn. Before I emerge to consciousness, I see your smiling, upturned face, gazing as though at one you love, but of the object of your adoration I see naught. I see you reach your hands down as though to grasp those of children, but I do not see the little ones themselves. I do not know if the ending of my dreams is the hope of a mother’s heart or the true path of your doom. At times my prescience forebodes that your fate shall be entwined in some way with the world of Men. That you are strong and that your path diverges from that of most Nis is clear for all to see. My daughter, if I tell you nothing else of worth I tell you this – follow your heart, for it will always be the beacon of your truth.

The most troubling portent of my dreams is that there may come a time when you mayhap need pursue a road that causes grief to your father, but what this journey may be I know not. Should this come to pass, harken to your grandmother Galadriel for counsel and strength, for she may provide you succor that your father can not find within himself to give with a free heart.

Your father’s power ensures that Imladris remains a safe haven from the Evil that threatens Middle Earth, as I have such painful cause to know. Yet your father’s concerns are many and his purview great. If the Last Homely House is to remain the hospice and respite for which it is renowned, he will need your aid. He will look to you to wield your influence in the sphere that lies closest to the heart and hearth of our home so that he may turn his gaze to matters that lie without the boundary of our lands and yet affect us greatly.

Oh Undomiel, you do not favor me in your appearance, like as you are more unto your father’s side, but in you lays no small measure of myself. Your gift of being able to see into people’s hearts and lend your strength to their purpose and dreams, your insight into the affairs and subtle patterns of our changing world, your way with words of comfort and warm welcome, your capacity for glee and merriment, your deft touch with a needle, your sure timing with a skillet and sense with seasonings, and oh, my dear, your sly wit - coming as it does at the most unsuspected moments, giving delight and pause to the listener. Even now, thinking of you brings rays of hope to the darkness of my thoughts.

You can do much to help your brothers restrain and guide their fury at my fate. They have need of your strength and insight. Allow them to cherish and protect you. Lend your ear to their thoughts. Calm their hearts with your presence. In you they sense the light that will exist in whatever may come to be.

And now the time has come for me to give to you that which my own mother gave to me upon the eve of my wedding. Would that I were giving it to you at a time filled with happiness instead of the dark hour in which I find myself. Guard this sacred knowledge well, for I can only foresee that the need for our waybread will increase as the power of the Dark Lord waxes. May you and the Yavannildi of Imladris provide the viands for many a well-favored journey. It heartens me, in my sad departure, that I may bestow this sacred trust to you.

Oh my daughter, try to remember me as I was in the days of my strength and not as the tortured creature I have become. Know that whatever fate may befall you, of one thing I have no doubt – someday, through the grace of Iluvatar, we will meet again.

With boundless love,

Mama

Translator’s note: There follows what must be a recipe for lembas, but it appears to be in a special code – one that presumably can only be understood by the Yavannildi.

[Maciliel]

I've tried to post another letter from Celebrian, but it's too long for one post and I don't want to cut it in two.

Please feel free to rummage around in the trunk and try your hand at translating some of the remaining missives!

[Sister Golden Hair]

Hello Maciliel. Aways nice to see you pop in on Entmoot. Haven't heard from you for awhile.

[afro-elf]

Nice to see you here too.

I will eventually get down to it.

I will do something with the Baranadhel and Westrenized Southrons.

I have the general idea just gotta get it on paper.

[Wayfarer]

*lightbulb*

Speaking of westernized southrons, do you recall that there was a region called Harondor (or South Gondor) that was between Gondor and Harad? Might be a good place to read up on, if you didn't know already (this region was controlled by gondor at one time)

[afro-elf]

Thanks for the info. I hand encountered the inofr before, but I had never thought much about it. Thanks for the reminder. It is definitely useful.

[afro-elf]

Before I get to the above:

This is a letter written by Eowyn to Elfhelm.

My dearest Elfhelm,

It has been years since we have been "close". Yet, what bound us in the past was your understanding of me. You know that the path of the warrior is my reason etreE Do not let my soul die as a caged animal. Do not let me sit and wait as an old maid in the hills of our refuge when I can ride and wield a blade. Is my heart any less valiant, any less worthy than any other Rider is because I am a woman? Am I not of the House of Eorl?Am I not Shield Maiden? The Holbytla would also pine away if left behind.

You of all people should know the need to follow the path of one's heart. I ask you out of memory of what we were and the promise we made to each other long ago. I ask you not as Eowyn of the House of Eorl, but simply as Eowyn your friend. Let us ride. And thus, Eowyn may finally be herself. Besides, you can always say Eowyn of the House of Eorl made you do it. (Smile)

Always,

Eowyn the Untamed.

[Maciliel]

Hi SGH!

Thanks for posting your letter over at SF-fandom too afro-elf! V. interesting. I'll have to take another look at Eowyn's friendship with Elfhelm.

Hey folks--if you do post a letter here at Entmoot, it would be great if you could also post it over at SF-fandom where the thread started. Go here:
http://www.sf-fandom.com/vbulletin/...?s=&threadid=77

Thanks in advance!
Maciliel

[Valandil]

A 'bump' for an interesting one I've noticed before. I hope to add to it soon (brace yourselves for outflowings from Arnor and Arthedain! ).

[Valandil]

I found a group of letters bundled together.

- - - - - - - - - -

First in a series:

10 Ninui, 1940

Dear Mother,

Greetings. How is gran-mama doing? Give her our best wishes and hopes for a graceful recovery. Our thoughts are with you and her when we look to the West each evening.

Without even your presence, your court’s late winter outing to South Ithilien appears on its way to becoming a great success. We have 24 men and 24 ladies, with a total entourage of over 100, counting our guards, messengers, servants and the musicians. We began with a 3 day boat trip down the Anduin to Pelargir. We stayed there only 2 days, then on down toward the Sea, until we reached the Poros after 1 day more. It was slow going upstream, but after 4 days of that, we debarked at the Crossings. Our pace and path made the trip so much slower than riding overland, but the travel was an enjoyable part of the outing… and the slow boats made for good chances to mingle and to talk. Every day we drew names to see who would be in each boat (6 men and ladies apiece, to keep things even) – and, worry not, we were well protected from the winds and cold with canvas coverings.

It was at the Crossings where we met most of the guards and servants and then, equipped each with a horse, we spent 1 more day at a pleasant pace riding up into the hill country of South Ithilien, along the north slope of the spur from Ephel Duath, which reaches to the Crossings. This took us to Earnil’s estate. We have now had only two days here, but will stay quite a bit longer. Already it’s looking to be as memorable a trip as that the summer before last, when you accompanied us to the Argonauth, Angrenost and the Aglarond – or even the year before that when we all spent the entire summer in Anfalas.

I’m not certain of my brothers, but this is the first time I recall being away from both you and father. While Artamir still remains aloof, he does seem a bit more relaxed. Faramir is quite the charmer among the ladies of the court (only myself excluded, for the younger of my two elder brothers charmed me long ago). It’s hard to tell for sure whom he even favors, though I suspect he may be trying to force Artamir’s hand a bit. Once Artamir makes his choice, the rest of us will be free to make our own matches. And with the way this trip is shaping up, my hopes are that by the second winter hence, you may find yourself with only two knees to share among three grand-children.

Well, after all mother, I WILL be 44 this year! Although this leaves me still quite young for a Numenorean woman, and my best years are by no means behind me, STILL I wish to get on with things. And I wish Artamir would DECIDE! There seem to be three leading candidates; Gilaewen, Culuial and Silahist. Faramir has been… well, ‘testing’ them I should say. Artamir – I don’t know if this bothers him, or if he simply observes and Faramir helps him make his choice, or if he inclines toward another whom I suspect not. Artamir is quite hard to read – though I imagine this is right for one who will be King someday. Please don’t misunderstand me either. I love Artamir greatly, but we have discussed this all before.

(cont'd)

[Valandil]

First letter - cont'd:

Mother, with whom do you think I am best to be matched? Oh, of course I have my favorites. And of course, the young men of your court are disinclined to display their own interests until the Heir has chosen. When you assembled our court, I imagined that all the men apart from my brothers would vie for my hand, when the time came. Now, I am not so sure that to marry the daughter of King Ondoher, and the sister of our future King Artamir, is such a thing to be desired. Besides all that, I feel myself less pretty, less witty, less graceful than the other ladies of the court. Is it so, or am I unjust to myself?

Oh there is Celebron, he seems worthy enough and might desire a match. Still, he bores me at times. Most times, I should say. Tendumar has possibilities. For ease on the eyes though, it may be difficult to surpass the new guard from Lamedon whom father has in the palace. Oh – do not tell father I say so, or I’m sure I’ll not see him again, but still, he is fair to look upon… and regrettably, not among the guardsmen sent along on this trip.

Earnil seems to be going on quite well enough. He is happy, I think. Worry no longer on this one either, my dearest mother. I have been over that particular interest for some time. This visit only confirms it. I know that I was a bit on the young side when he desired to marry, and suspect father explicitly forbade it for that reason, for I thought surely that Earnil had desired my hand then. Still, the mind plays with what might have been. His wife seems distant toward me, as though I were still a rival, but it’s truly not the case.

Their son Earnur has been a great delight to all your court. He can be no more than 10 or 12 and is a bundle of energy. He delights in competing with our young lords in sword practice… as well as attempting to wrestle them, though he’s still far too small to closely contest any among them. The young ladies think him handsome, but he is too young to pay heed to that.

We rested yesterday, recovering from our travels with good food, soft music and light activity. Today’s activity was quite vigorous. After a small breakfast, we spent the entire day outside. It’s just cold enough that the snow does not melt – and we were sheltered from the heavy winds. The plants begin to peek up through the ice now – and some of the brightly colored birds have returned. We saw squirrels and other small animals starting to venture forth. The young men began to play a bit roughly in the snow – throwing one another into drifts and making balls of snow to hurl at one another – or to push into one another’s faces. Not a few even of the ladies joined into this action… led by your own daughter, I fear. We all laughed so… I believe even Artamir had a great time – and none could out-do him, unless perhaps our cousin Minohtar, but that would be a close call to make. We all then sat in the piles of snow, laughing and watching our breath form clouds of frost. This day of snow was quite the delight.

We went in just at dusk, changed out of our wet clothes into our formal outfits and gathered in Earnil’s great hall for the evening entertainment. All our ladies wore the rose-colored dresses and the gentlemen wore black. We ate such a feast – with hot drinks to warm us, then danced long into the night, finally sitting and talking in small groups. As you can see, I stay up quite late to complete this letter to you.

Mother, we know you planned to come along on this trip and we sorely miss you. It is unfortunate that your own mother’s poor health forced your sudden visit to her side in Belfalas – and we of the court, most especially your sons and your daughter, deeply appreciate that you and father have allowed the remainder of us to continue with the trip as planned. Remember me once more to my gran-mama, as well as Uncle Oldo and his family. Remember me also to young Imrazor, son of Adrahil, if you see him once more. It would please me greatly if you were inclined to invite him to join your court. I expect he would consider me quite old for himself, although it’s only two or three years, for men always seek to match with one younger than themselves. I fondly remember our times as playmates in the days of childhood, either when we visited Belfalas, or when Prince Adrahil brought his family to Minas Anor. And if not me, then perhaps someone else of our court would catch his eye. Many of the young ladies of our kingdom are in your court and he will not find the like where he is. Tell him I jest that the Elven girls of Edhellond would surely not find him to their liking!

I hope to see you soon mother. I retire now to bed for the night, but wanted to fill you in on events of the trip to date, and needed to finish it up tonight, for Artamir will send the first messengers out to both you and father before first light tomorrow morning.

May Eru and the Valar watch over you.

Your daughter,

Firiel

[Valandil]

Second in a series:

13 Ninui, 1940

Dearest Mother,

I know not what to say for I am in deep distress. If the care of my grandmother is in good hands other than your own, can you come to Minas Anor right away? I beseech you mother!

A messenger has just come hither from there and father has summoned me home. He has promised me in marriage! Nor is it to any of your court, or of our kingdom, nor even the lands on our borders… he gives my hand to the prince of some distant northern land of which I had never heard!

Artamir tells me it is Arthedain, and that they are our far kinsmen, though long sundered by the years. Numenoreans even, as are we, but that they have fallen into insignificance! He tells me further that Mithrandir, that Grey Pilgrim, has long urged our father to renew old ties with them. Oh! Though I loved his visits and his stories as a little girl, if he is at the root of this, he shall one day feel my wrath!

Father never seemed willing to marry me for an alliance, so I had falsely considered myself safe from such a fate. Why not Frumgar, son of Marhwohli? Although not Numenoreans, they are allies – and I would be nearer to you, as they are just beyond our northern borders. My worst fear on such lines was that we would renew ties with Umbar and father would marry me to a prince of that house… but THIS seems far worse! Surely those further north are even LESS civilized!

Artamir will accompany me, for father sent for him as well. Because of my great distress, he has permitted me the use of another messenger to send you this appeal, although our last rider to you was sent only days ago. We leave before dawn tomorrow morning, by horse – and one part of the mounted guards ride with us.

Please come at once mother – and intervene to father on my behalf.

Eru and the Valar watch over you – and me as well.

Your loving daughter,

Firiel

[Beruthiel's cat]

Here is an exerpt from a beautifully bound book recently found in the library at Great Smials in Tuckborough, the Shire.

I found it very interesting and will post more at a later date.

Part One

INTRODUCTION:
THE LETTERS OF PEREGRIN TOOK
Compiled by Belladonna Took Brandybuck


These letters are copies of those found when organizing some of the older and more neglected corners of the Library at Great Smials. They were addressed to my grandfather, Peregrin I, the Took; Thain of the Shire and Counselor of the North-Kingdom.

They are most definitely personal correspondence between himself and many of the friends he made abroad during his travels at the time of the Great War of the Ring. I was surprised at the extent of his correspondence with the noted figures of the Age, noting he received letters from such notables as Faramir of Ithilien, his Lady, Eowyn, King Eomer of Rohan, the elf Legolas of the Greenwood, King Elessar (of course) and a very notable (if terse) well-wishing from Lord Gimli, son of Gloin, the dwarf.

The most lively and charming correspondence, however is one that my grandfather apparently maintained for decades with the chief scribe of Gondor, one Lady Amaris. They became good friends during the first sojourn “Grandfather Pippin” made to Minas Tirith, (the account of which is made in the Lady Amaris’ journals, which are found in the great library at Minas Tirith, a copy of which was sent to my father after the death of my grandfather, as it was found in his personal effects). The first letters included here, are dated shortly after my grandfather’s triumphant return to the Shire in S.R. 1422 and continue until he and Uncle Meriadoc Brandybuck, made their final journey to the White City of Gondor in S.R. 1484.

I have, therefore, copied and bound these letters into the following book. The original documents are being carefully preserved, but I felt that the correspondence should be shared with interested parties in a way that would not damage the original letters, and that, as a whole would shed light on an interesting historical period in the world and also illuminate the character of one of history’s most illustrious Hobbits, my grandfather, Peregrin (Pippin) Took.

I have made occasional personal notations throughout the text. These are indicated as footnotes.

It should also be noted that this book is printed using the new printing machine developed by the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain under the direction of Lord Gimli and refined by my husband, Rorimac Brandybuck II.



Belladonna Took Brandybuck
Great Smials
The Shire
7 October, S.R. 1552



CHAPTER 1, LETTERS S.R. 1422

To: Master Peregrin Took
Great Smials,
The Shire

From: Amaris, Chief Scribe
Court of King Elessar
Minas Tirith

24 August, 1422, Shire Reckoning

My dearest Pippin,

Your letter arrived today and I was quite surprised (and delighted) to receive it so promptly.*
The King has wasted no time in establishing a communication route to the North, with many messengers (most of them Rangers, well known to the King and familiar with the region). I have informed the King that the message took a mere 21 days to arrive from the Shire. Of course, it has been a fair summer and as such, conditions are optimum for travel and communication. As the seasons progress, it will doubtless take longer to send and receive correspondence. But the network is in place, and it has much to do with your good work. Your explanation of the workings of the Quick Post system in the Shire helped a great deal in the establishment of the messenger system we now have in place. The King has asked me to extend his gratitude in my reply to you.

Your description of the condition of the Shire when you returned was chilling. How dreadful it must have been for you to return to such havoc! I can almost see the indignance and shock written on Sam’s face! He is not one to hide his feelings well and will always make them clear. Of all of the Hobbits, he described the Shire in the most loving terms while he was here, so its occupation by Saruman and his cronies must have been doubly appalling to him. That, coupled with the destruction of Bag End and the removal of the Party Tree must have caused his dear, sweet soul to weep.

I can picture you, riding off in a lather to rouse your kin. Why do I have a mental picture of you astride your pony, oblivious to ruffians and arrows, single-minded in your desire to rally all of Tuckborough to your cause? I don’t suppose you’ve gained any caution (or common sense) in the months since you left Minas Tirith? That would be too much for me to expect from my dear, reckless hobbit, wouldn’t it? But those qualities are among the many that make you so endearing.

Well, it is very good that you were able to put a stop to the occupation of the Shire and an end to Saruman and Grima Wormtounge once and for all. The King was very pleased at that news and Lord Gimli (who still attends the King, though he may leave soon with Legolas and travel north to the Greenwood) did quite the funny jig when he heard of “Sharkey’s End.” I wish you could have seen it.

Indeed, I wish you were still here to enjoy what is left of the summer. The gardens are lush with flowers and they perfume each gentle breeze. Every day that passes is more glorious than the last, for I am ever more grateful that the Shadow that plagued us for so long has been lifted and that I have been so honored to live in such days and have the humbling task of recording both the great and mundane things that are part of this new Age. With you here, I could allow myself to forget the duties that keep me confined for too many hours in the cold, stone rooms of the library or the King’s chambers. I confess to you, I was not ready for the responsibility of this task, but Nedron was specific. I was to be appointed chief scribe upon his death. And Aragorn – King Elessar – did not have any objections. I just want to serve him as well as Nedron served him and Denethor before him. But I have heard whispers about the inexperience of a twenty-six year old girl taking on the responsibility it took Nedron a lifetime to master. But I must do my best. The other scribes are mostly no older than I am. I worked with Nedron from the time I came here – when Gandalf brought me here for refuge when I was only twelve. It seems an Age ago.

_________

*The text of the original letter sent by Peregrin to Amaris has been lost. It may exist in the library at Minas Tirith, but research by Amaris’ granddaughter Gilraen has not yet brought the letter to light.

[Beruthiel's cat]

Part Two

Amaris' first letter to Peregrin -- continued

It seems an Age since I last saw you, riding away over the hill with Merry, Sam, Frodo and Gandalf. Yet it has been not quite a year. I miss being able to talk with you and tell you about the history of Gondor and the North Kingdoms, about growing up in Escaroth and swimming in the lake. I miss hearing your stories of the Shire and Farmer Maggot’s mushrooms and how your sisters would pester you and the way you and Merry would have adventures. Talking to you would keep me from going utterly mad because sometimes I just need to hear of ordinary things in ordinary words that don’t have to be couched in grand language or in courteous phrases that will offend no one. I need someone REAL.

I must close now. Please give my love to Merry, the grand Master of Buckland. I have a strong suspicion he quite enjoys the attention he is getting these days as the great organizer of the routing of the ruffians. He is a dear, but he likes to be made of, doesn’t he? I know he liked the attention he got from several of the ladies in court while he was here. He must have no lack of feminine attention now. (How many times have you heard that he is a “good match” for someone?? I hope he doesn’t fall for the first pretty face he sees, however. And that goes doubly for you!!)

And love, too, to Sam. I hope he is putting his swimming lessons to good use. (I still laugh when I think of that day...). Rosie Cotton sounds like a wonderful lass. I wish them much happiness.

And especially give my love to dear Frodo. I know he must still be in pain, both physical and mental, over all he has had to bear. I hope he is finding some peace now that he is home in the Shire surrounded by familiar things and the people that he loves. His healing will be a long process, I fear. Be patient with him and kind, as I know only you can be.

And my love to you, dearest Pip, confidant of my deepest soul. Rest confident that I will write to you whenever I am able. I am having some copies made of the “Book of Generations” that you found so interesting, so you may expect a volume for your library at Great Smials very soon.

Yours with deepest affection,

Amaris

[Valandil]

Third in a series:

22 Ninui, 1940

Dear Mother,

I send you greetings and all my love. Your message has reached me just today at Minas Anor with your regrets that you could not yet come. It seemed good to write you now with an account of more recent events.

You may tarry yet longer in Belfalas, for all here is well.

That is to say, I give you leave, as far as that may matter. For mother, I have met this northern prince and we shall wed. Further, I am… happy!

I know this seems a strange turn of events following my earlier distress. And I regret the time taken away from gran-mama with which you labored over your own message and offered such splendid advice. However, it is advice not to be heeded, for it is no longer needed. I have found the one for me mother, in the place where I did not expect it.

It amuses me to think how you must be beside yourself upon reading these words. Let me tell you more of what has happened:

Artamir and I indeed left Count Earnil’s mountain home before the break of dawn on 14 Ninui (February). I’m certain I was quite a hindrance to Artamir and the mounted guardsmen, for we did not arrive at Minas Anor until late on the 19th. However, Artamir did not seem displeased with the pace, nor did father seem to think we had been overlong when we arrived, for we came a full day before he had commanded. Also, he had news of our impending arrival from Artamir, via messenger.

I had expected we would ride north from the Crossings of Poros, through Ithilien and along Emyn Arnen, up to the Cross-Roads and through the remnants of Osgiliath. Instead, Artamir took us west toward Pelargir, saying that the other passed too far to the north. The very messenger who carried my last letter to you rode with us for the first day, down to the Crossings. The following day though, he picked up his pace and left us behind. We arrived at Pelargir before noon on the 16th and I was a bit surprised we tarried there for the night, as there seemed so much more time to ride. Still, I wished that if we had continued on, my path would have been behind the messenger to Belfalas, and away from what awaited me at home. My mood was quite dark.

Artamir and I spoke but little, by his nature and my mood. I’m certain he would have indulged me if I had been myself, but he was content to let me be. He did tell me that while we were descended in direct line from Anarion, son of Elendil, both of whom had fallen in battle with the Dark Lord, the rulers of Arthedain were descended only of Valandil, who had no part in the war.

Mother, have you ever looked into the ‘seeing-stone’ which my grandfather, King Calimehtar placed in the top of the White Tower once he built it? I saw it once on errand to my grandfather, where I found him gazing into it, surveying scenes of lands about our kingdom. I was but a girl then, but it had a great allure to me, which I never quite forgot. Some few years later, perhaps at 15 or 16, I gave the slip to the guards at the tower base and found the rest of the way unattended. I looked into it. Only for a moment, for I think my conscience gained mastery over my mischief. At first all was like a mist, but then I found that I could see things in it. Things far away, and some things nearer – things mysterious and strange, as well as things mundane. Before long I feared discovery and crept back down the stairs. I even dropped some three rangar from a rear window rather than risk the guards a second time… not that I expected them to harm or hinder me, but I knew they would not keep the secret from grandfather – or from father.

You are the first I have told of this. I think it matters little now, as so much time has passed and such great expectations now await us.

Anyway, I have seen the stone and used it myself only yesterday, and in father’s very presence. This is how it was:

Three hours after mid-day, father, Artamir and I ascended the stairs of the tower and entered the chamber of the stone. By this time, father had told me that the stone had been the means of his contact with Araphant, King of Arthedain and father of my intended. Father would not say if Mithrandir was involved, but he did tell me that the arrangement had not been finalized and that both fathers wished for their children to consent. I had little hope that my wishes would be considered though and had begun to resign myself to my fate. As you can imagine, I sulked and cursed that stone. How I laugh at myself now – and this was only yesterday.

Oh – I should tell you that father had prepared for me a new dress. And such a dress! It was the last detail I would have expected of him, but it was done. It was dark – a deep blue-gray, but it managed to accentuate my features while maintaining my modesty and my dignity. If I had indeed wished to meet a suitor, it would have been much to my liking. However, in my mood I cursed even that lovely dress. Father bade me put aside my tears of anguish and to give an aspect of good cheer. I determined to try, but my heart was not in it. He gave me also a fine necklace with a silver pendant and a tiara of bright gems to wear.

(cont'd)

[Valandil]

Third Letter - cont'd:

When father sat first at the stone, we found those from the north already awaiting us. At first though, I saw only mist, then another chamber came into view, and then, as father ‘spoke’ I saw a man like unto my father, but as I stood to one side, he appeared ‘bent’ – as one appears in a bent mirror. He and father seemed to be ‘speaking’ to one another, but without a sound and without moving their lips. I began to find it fascinating, and even tried to ‘listen in’ but could not do so.

After a time of this, the man in the stone removed himself from his seat and was replaced by a younger man. My heart trembled at first, for I knew this had to be the one my father intended for me. Though I could not catch their exchange, father’s tone seemed to change. Although newly acquainted, our two fathers and kings had seemed quite jovial with one another. Father took a sterner visage with the younger man. At first this almost delighted me, but then I began to pity him for having to deal with father like this. And then I saw that he seemed to have a strength of his own and... I began to find him intriguing.

After a bit, father seemed satisfied and rose from his chair. I was anxious, afraid both that the interview might be at end, or that it might be time for me to continue it. However, father signaled to Artamir to take the seat before the stone. Artamir then sat and ‘conversed’ with his fellow prince in much the same way as father had, two future kings of the Dunedain it seems. Artamir appeared to be quite natural about it all, and he told me later that father had taken both him and Faramir to look into the stone several times before.

All too soon, it WAS my turn. Artamir arose and held the seat for me. I decided to put on a brave face and jump in, as it were.

I now saw my ‘intended’ straight on, and saw that he was quite fair. We looked only, at first, for I knew not how to ‘speak’. Artamir told me that I should direct at the man in the stone the thoughts I wished to speak, as though I were speaking them, but that I need not say them aloud. He told me that if I would, at first, I could actually say them, or mouth the words, if that was helpful to me, but that I could refrain from this and it would work just as well. I desired to refrain, that my own ‘conversation’ be as private as that between those before me. But I asked father if my other, unspoken thoughts might also be heard by the one in the stone. Father assured me that not even he was able to draw a thought unbidden from one he faced in the stone, and that there was no record to show it had been done. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I thought it would be father and turned to smile at him, but it was Artamir – and somehow that made me smile even brighter.

I ‘heard’ or ‘felt’ the thoughts of Arvedui before I ‘spoke’ to him. For Arvedui was his name. It seems an ill omen to be called ‘Last King’ but he told me later it was a name given by a great seer among his people, and that though his name sounded of doom, it came also with a hope and a promise. When he first spoke though, he told me his name and he told me also… that I was the loveliest lady he had ever seen. I tried to tell him that he had not seen the other ladies of Gondor, but I’m not sure if he ‘heard’ the thought, for it was my first attempt and truly my heart was not in its sending. It seemed to fade from my will as speech unbidden will at times fade from the lips

Mother, poets and others talk of this ‘love at first sighting’ – and we all learn of how Beren and Luthien were taken with one another from the beginning. I had come to think of this as a fool’s hope though, or at least thought it would not strike home to me. But mother, something happened as we first exchanged our thoughts through the stone. My heart turned to him somehow, and rather quickly. Although parting from you and all of Gondor would be hard, I suddenly desired to go to him in the north, to dwell with him there forever… even to bear his children and one day be his queen.

It was as though our minds touched and connected. He also had been hard-pressed to find one whom he desired in his own kingdom. He also had been loathe to marry me – stranger from a distant land. And… he also felt his own heart turn toward me as we sat together… though hundreds of leagues apart. I sensed it first, and then he told me.

Mother, is it possible for a man to be strong in mind and will, and yet gentle of heart and speech? Arvedui seems so. We sat long and talked together. Finally, he asked me if I would consent to be his bride if my father would grant it, though I knew long by then that the question was coming. His question made me sad only in that I felt our time to speak was drawing to a close. I tried to hesitate a bit before giving my own consent, but I fear he already knew my answer. After I told him so, I informed father that the Prince Arvedui wished to speak with him once more.

Artamir assisted me as I rose and wiped the tears from my eyes and father returned to the seat. The arrangements were all made quite quickly. Arvedui wishes to marry me in our own city at noon-time on Mid-year’s Day, a lucky sign to his people. He will set out on the First of Gwaeron (March) and will arrive sometime in Lothron (May), that he may spend time with us and see a bit of our kingdom before we wed. Father will send an escort to meet him at Tharbad and accompany him through our land. Artamir will go, and father has sent for Faramir to join him.

Father even permitted me to speak with him a bit more after making those arrangements. He has granted that we may meet again at the stone on the third day after our first meeting, so I find myself counting the hours until the day after tomorrow. He says we may talk on that day for as long as we desire. Then he will allow us to speak again on 30 Ninui (February), the eve of Arvedui’s departure. Father wishes to wait until the celebration of the Erukyerme to announce to the kingdom our engagement, so we must be a bit discrete for just over a month more.

So mother, again I will ask you to return to Minas Anor. However, you may first linger a bit more with gran-mama. I do hope her health is restored. As it may cheer her, please inform her that hopes for great-grandchildren may not be long off, but be certain that the servants in the household discover it not. I do hope that you can come home to me by the beginning of Gwirith (April) though, that you might stand beside me when father proclaims the news. Besides, we will have a wedding to plan – and just three months left to do it from that time. And you shall gain a son-in-law.

Also, you must tell me more about how it was with you and father. Tales you have told me come to mind, and I see them all now in a different way.

May Eru and the Valar watch over you – as they have me.

Your daughter,

Firiel

[Valandil]

Er... some of you may have noticed that Firiel's letters are a bit, um... verbose! In contrast to that, consider the following. While I was translating the latest treatise, a scrap of paper, of a different sort - and seeming to be a corner torn off of a full page - fell to the floor. I cannot vouch for its authenticity, and wouldn't even know how to begin to try. I suspect it's likely a 'halfling jest' inserted by some Took or Bracegirdle who was poring over the lengthy epistles of this fine lady of Gondor. Anyway, it reads:

Hey Ma,

Met a girl. Heading down to Gondor to pick her up. Will have her home by Yule next!

~ Arvie

judge for yourselves

[Last Child of Ungoliant]

during excavation at the site of dol guldur, in southern mirkwood,
a book of letters, in the original Black Speech was found.
a rough translation here follows:
__________________________________________________ __

My Lord, Supreme Overlord of Darkness,
The Uruki scouts have reported back from
Moria with news that The Balrog still dwells therein, and he
requests that those uruki that dwell within the mines are
free to be taken into His service, in return He will waylay any
travellers in that ancient realm,
I await your response in order that I may reply to Him
in Humble Service
The Witch King of Angmar, Lord of the Nazgul
__________________________________________________ __