23rd December, 3017
Dearest Hereniel,
It has been three months since my last letter to you and dear father, another three months without your reply. What is it with the winds these days, that even a single letter cannot reach back to Bree...I muse, and hope beyond hope that you receive this letter, as well as the others I sent over the years in the North.
It is winter here and the clouds are gathering in a swirl of pitch black beyond the mountains. Snow-storms brewing in the ragged hills to the west. The weather is very different here than in the South. The snows, when they fall, are gentle and brief in the fields and foothills of Gondor. Yet here, far north of home, winter is a different, cruel beast. It engulfs valleys, swallows entire hills and freezes fast rivers in its fury. As I write this, the prickling silver gleams outside, reflecting the pale moonlight that briefly pierces the clouds overhead, before it once again falls prey to the relentless dark. So peaceful, so quiet is this land under the heavy cover of night-frost, I can almost hear my thoughts as I write. No sound, save the bone-chilling breath of the winter's wind comes through the window. Only a distant, mewling howl of some hungry beast stalking through through the trees, beneath the thick, white-covered boughs breaks the silence.
The fire is warm and the wood is crackling pleasantly in the hearth. Homesickness was never my ailment, yet even as I am content here, I find myself thinking of home. At a night like this, yearnings for the warm summer and delightful spring, for seagulls and swans and green meadows of Lebennin come easily to me. Yet, I also dream of something else. I still see you, dear sister, dancing, as you once did, amidst the white and yellow primrose blossoms, your summer-green dress moving alongside your graceful limbs. With all my heart I hope that you will find understanding for an impatient youth that left his duties as a son and a brother, to seek a fool's destiny far away from his home. And perhaps in time, you will forgive your baby brother. And even as I dream for home, I know I will not err twice the same. To leave Eriador, this ancient, wild land where civilization is as far removed as the golden fields of Lebennin, would be abandoning my duties and my heart yet again. And I have grown, sister dear, both in years and in character.
Do not doubt that I dearly miss you, Dove, and wish you all the fortune in the world.
Caro anor na ven, No in elenath hîlar nan hâd gîn. May the sun shine on your road, May all the stars shine upon your path.
With love, your brother,
Araenion
