Imladris, 15 Nárië, 2511
My Dearest Mother,
It has been a year now since you
left us sailed, but the parting has not grown any easier with time. We all miss you so very much.
We all deal with it in different ways.
Arwen cannot bear the air of sorrow and misery, and has fled to Lórien to escape the memories here. Arwen has left us for a while to stay with Grandmother and Grandfather in Lórien, while Elladan and I only
seem able to vent our grief and rage through bloodshed. We often ride
with the Dúnedain, but no matter how many orcs we slaughter I know it
cannot assuage the pain. often ride on patrols with the Dúnedain. Sometimes I am able to see past the red haze of battle fury, and know that you would hate what we have become remember the old days, and the light and laughter you brought into our lives, and again miss you so much.
Father cannot cope with your absence at all. He shuts himself up in his study, and sometimes we do not see him for days.
Father copes as well as he can, and has devoted himself to his books
and studies. He often seems to forget the passage of time, and has to
be reminded to eat!
is a sorrowful, desolate place now, silent and grim. The minstrels no longer sing, and the hall of fire is darkened. seems a very different place now, and the evenings are quiet and peaceful.
I pray that you will find the healing you seek,
but fear that we may never see you again and that one day we will all be together once more. Until that time comes,
I am your loving son,