I want to give you my condolences about the loss of Themodir. While it may pain you now and we all were greatly looking forward to be at your wedding, remember that while you wait to meet him again, you'll always have the love and support of your friends as well.
I have not forgotten that you wanted me to arrange the flowers for the wedding. As a symbol of my friendship, I still have arranged the flowers, though I truly wish it wouldn't have been for his funeral...”
I stop writing the letter and look at the funeral wreath – it has fragrant white and blue flowers selected by Norliriel, and it's rich leaves are entwined with a thread of gold and silver, a reminiscent of Telperion and Laurelin, across the sea in Aman where Themodir will later meet Manadhlaer. Rather later than sooner, unless she is fading – a thought which I'd rather not have.
I have done the best I could, using my hands that are used to both making garlands, and jewellery. I wish that Manadhlaer will take it as a sign that her friends are still here.
I asked Norliriel to participate in this gift because she was grieving in the Hall of Fire, taking the fault of his passing onto herself as she did not deserve it. I know she told me to give my supports to Manadhlaer and not her, but I know by experience that to heal a hurt fëa, the thirst of hope must be quenched in her friends as well, so more hope can be passed on to herself, and the less she will lose.
Lady Miste was also in the Hall. She could not stay, but she also heard the news. She asked me to stay strong for Manadhlaer. I am not untouched by the loss of our long time friend who always brought cheer, but that I will.
”...This wreath is from your friends, to lay upon Themodir's grave. I have woven the wreath, the flowers were chosen by Norliriel, and the gold and silver is from Lilleduil. I thought that it's better to send it to you beforehand, rather than give it in the last minute. If you need the aid of any of us, please remember to just ask. We want to see your brighter days to come.
I feel like keeping it short, since we all have lost words, and too many may be hurtful.
I take a last look at the wreath and think that something is missing. I see the ribbon and quill and realize what it is. I attach the ribbon to the wreath and start writing with carefully made script:
Night comes ere dawn
Which will bear on
Day of solace sweet
In valour and passion
In love and compassion
Your memory we'll meet
I feel weariness coming over me – I haven't had enough sleep and I have worked all night. I should rest, before I go to meet the others...