Elvealin

“Are you really quite sure that you never even heard his name?”

The Lady of the Pillar had asked her secretary this twice before. Sarmëtecil lowered her head and confronted the hopeful gaze of her mistress.

Only the last word in the signature line was, for obscure reasons, emphasized in red ink.

Dear Quartermaster Golvagor:

I am writing to request some supplies in the event that hir Tolmen should become a guest at the Houses of Healing.

This letter is not in the elegant, flowing calligraphy of the Pillar's secretary Sarmëtecil. It is scratched down in haste, as if fear had been struck into the writer.

My honoured liege,

This letter is not in the elegant, flowing calligraphy of the Pillar's secretary Sarmëtecil. It is scratched down in haste, as if fear had been struck into the writer.

My honoured liege,

This letter is not in the elegant, flowing calligraphy of the Pillar's secretary Sarmëtecil. It is scratched down in haste, as if fear had been struck into the writer.

My honoured liege,

Dear Diary,

Well, that was painful in a way I had not pictured. 

I shall not reproduce here the autopsy report, which is really only for Tûr anyway, since the body of my beloved husband-brother was witnessed by Tingruviel, Elvealin, Tindir, Estarfin, and Veryacano, and assisted by my twin star Norliriel. None of them should have had to see Daegond so. 

Dearest Themodir --

Do you remember that day, where you are now? It is five years since that terrible day. So little time, merely an eyeblink. 

I remember it exactly. I do not know why, but I was wearing a white dress with matching roses in my hair. I think I must have been looking forward to your arrival home from the mountain assignment. A simple supply run, you said. 

Greetings my Lord Anglachelm,

I would like you to know that we wish to take a journey to Eregion for a few reasons for what has transpired in the past few days. One is Lady Himwen wishing to train her recruits there. The other is quite personal to me.