A Letter



[A letter in a shaky, smudged script]

My dear Blída,

This letter comes by the same courier, for indeed he has enjoyed the splendor of Erebor. I have attempted to give him every comfort and honor that befits a Dwarf of his station. He has eaten quite a large quantity of food, even among our folk. Kidhuzurâl, or rather Motgrouk and I have shared nights in front of the hearth as we spoke of many things. Yet chief among them has been you. I shall consider him a nadad in truth, for he tells me that you are near in his heart, that you are considered his kin west of the Mountains. 

Upon the arrival of this fellow, I knew that it would be long ere I see you once more. Cruel it seems, to be born wandering and yet now have the mountain, yet not my child. Ever were you the caged Raven, curious and seeking the wider skies. I know that you are not alone in these lands with my beloved Seimurr with you; my fear shall be quieted. Yet I am still grieved greatly, for I had hoped you would remain a pearl, clutched secretly within our welcome Halls beneath the Mountain, beneath the moon. 

I confess I written, rewritten and felt my old bones cramp as I have wrote many pages to argue with you. I shall not hear of talk that you are not a good daughter, nor bear any child of mine speaking of themselves as an indulgent wastrel. You are of Durin's Folk, a daughter of the Mountain and more importantly, my child. 

I do not fully understand you, for I fear I never truly shall. This Motgrouk has tried to explain it to me, yet I would need to hear it from you to better grasp it. I found myself speaking in circles as Motgrouk referred to you as my son. He refers to you as Bíld, yet you are ever my little Blída Beneath the Mountain.

I am hale and hearty, need not fear of my going to Mandos just yet. I will hold you to your promise, for next Kaylithadrân I mean to see you smiling in time for the snows to melt and the Forge Day Fest to be in full swing about you and Seimurr.

I now know better than to beg your return, nor to send more kin after you to ensure your safety. I hope for your return to these halls on an auspicious day, when the wind is at your back and the falcons soar above you. My hearth and heart is ever waiting for your return, beneath the mountain.

With love, pride, and tears sorrow

Your father,

Bóurr