A letter inside an unmarked envelope once sealed with Landrem the Younger’s personal seal—the Tengwar letters ʟ⋅ɴᴅ⋅ʀ⋅ᴍ beneath a fish naiant. The author’s hand is crisp and elegant if small and understated, reminiscent of a careful scribe’s.
Dear Mae,
It is good to hear from you too. I am sorry for being so formal; I feel out of practice in letter-writing, and it seems harder to me now to put my thoughts into words. This old ritual of ours feels stranger to me with things becoming what they have as of late, but I’ll try to become more at ease as we continue.
Thank you for being willing to see me—it pleases me more than anything else to know that you remain so dedicated to our meetings, even now. I do wish to see you, you know, though I cannot make it as often as we both wish to be. You will always be able to see me at whatever time you desire it—your visits are a joy unsurpassed in days with too little joy.
Do not be so sparse with your quill, Mae. I long to hear from you, even if ink is a pale substitute for hearing your voice and seeing your face again. I don’t keep away from you out of my own desire, but rather out of necessity. I see you as often as I am able to. These are all I have between our visits, as meager as they are.
I will do you one better and see you this evening, the 29th—the wait is too long to go a whole two days more. I will bring calda for you, and a little trinket I saw the other day that I think should suit your eyes.
Yours as ever,
Image made by Landrem's player with Måns Björkman's Parmaite font.
