{ Being a letter left where it can easily found, on the kitchen table with a spray of Uthulós }
Seregrían to her husband Cutch, greeting:
I, too, read your last letter to me several times, as you read over and again my study of you. I am reminded of the evening not long past, where you and I had our first “disagreement” over things; does that mean we are more like other arguing married couples, now? I hope this is true.
Yes, melethel nin, you read between the lines very clearly. My heart had been shattered by your abrupt disappearance; it was also hardened with my old comfortable anger. I have not told you this, but Caladna and I shared words while you recovered, and I told her much the same. You left a gaping hole in not just my heart, but my mind and will as well.
After my rage abated and after receiving the news that you had “died”, I found myself grieving over the loss of your company. It’s odd, as I reflect on my thoughts and deeds during that time. I began doing irresponsible things, utterly out of character, just to feel what you brought out in me. Yes, my fool, that is but one of many ways you affect me.
I can see how you are still overcome by the weight of guilt you are bearing. I charge you now, release your grip on your angst. Rather than holding onto your crushing shame, let it fall away and let your heart fly free.
Need I remind you? I am your bride! That is what you have won, my sweet fool! That is the reward that awaits you every day, indeed every hour. I sing your name each day, at each gathering, in every corner of the lands we have traveled – I wish the world to know that you have won my heart, and folk would be hard-pressed to find any Elf as happy as I.
You shall know best how and when the grip of your guilt shall lessen. But in the hour that it finally fades, I shall be waiting. I shall always wait.
At the risk of restating the obvious: I love you, Mortal fool.
I forgive you.
