(Being a letter delivered to Master Cutch Crane by direct eagle-post)
Torech Besruth, Falathlorn, Lindon
13 Tuilë in the Reckoning of Imladris
(being the 10th day of April in the Shire Reckoning)
Seregrían bethril i Cevenion a meldín herven, suilad:
The most eloquent poetry I can contrive could not give voice to the joy I felt at your latest letter. I have followed vicariously your exploits in the Southron lands, yours and our son, and I cannot properly express my pride and satisfaction at both his conduct, and your own. It seems that Ardanion has grown from the tender, bending sapling of youth to the strong and reliant tree he now presents to the world. Indeed, our son truly has lived up to his name.
And what shall we say of you, O Son of the Earth, my Black Fox? You have labored to uncover the sundered and frayed ends of the tale of the Black Star; and your harvest of the truth has yielded fruit at last. You have names, locations, and goals of your quarry, enough to begin your hunt anew. Yet you ask for my counsel for the situation and for my love, I offer it.
Ardanion and Lumenire are correct. Their doubt, in this case, is the best choice for two reasons: first, you can and must avoid the folly of lone pursuit of the forces arrayed against you and second, it is well past time for you to return to the lands of your birth, and your heart. I also add my own mind to their words. Our family have been apart for overlong, melethel nin. Bainiel pines for her father, and in a wine-fueled confession tells me she misses the company of her brother. That alone stands as reason for your return.
Beloved, I truly do know what this pursuit of the Black Star’s legacy means to you; you know well my secret obsession regarding the nature of my own lineage. But another facet of the gem that is our love demands your return, and that is the ever-shortening span of years left to you, and to us. I beg you, squander no further the years given to us by the very legacy you hunt down. Bring yourselves back to the lands of birth, of life, and love we share. I tell you truly, herven nin, your absence has become painful to me. I ache for your voice, your touch, the smile you present when I enter a room. I start asking your mind on something and must stop myself, because you are not there.
Behold, my bespoken Mortal love, the years of our life and love run as swiftly as the waters of Falathlorn flow past The Lair, our home that has seen you missing for far too long. Fly home to me, your awaiting scarlet heart, and bask in the warmth and light of our halls once more. Our family, our friends, our Household, shall rejoice at your homecoming – and we shall take delight in the renewal of our vows once more.
Manwë keep you, and Oromë speed your ways until we meet once more.
