Writing Back

In response to this.

A letter simply shows up one morning on Tater’s saddlebag.  Who knows how it got there?  There might be beak marks on one corner.

To Mr. Cutter,

It is little enough trouble, and I thought you might wish to recheck the pagination before the next edition goes out.  I suspect there has been some confusion in the ordering, and you will note where the line numbering is off.  I have marked it for you.

Eglandor whom you call Rheb does well with young Angthul, or well enough.  They seem something of a civilizing influence on each other, though the young will continue to act like idiots no matter what one does to stop them.  I believe they are involved in some form of sporting goods venture.  He visits regularly.

Miss Tessa is well as one could expect and also sends her regards.  Her mother is to remarry soon, as I am sure she has told you.  If she has not, you are one of the few in Arda to have escaped her effusions on the subject.  He is an unremarkable but pleasant sort of fellow with a talent for glassmaking and she seems fond of him.  I hope to convince them to dwell here at the hall.  It is far more convenient than commuting, I should think, and will save Nellina the trouble of walking.  I suspect, though, that they will insist on their own lodgings.  It is most distressing.

Do keep an eye on Thragan, and give my regards to that red-headed girl of Anarion’s.  Tell Gislaf to mind the badgers.

Regards,

Celeveren Curandiriel

And In response to this.

Aster, greetings!

Sorry you couldn’t make it to the fiasco betrothal party.  You would have enjoyed it no doubt.  Madness and madness!  Arion’s plan to call up the witch actually worked.  More or less.  She sent a bloody fludding lackey who near slit his throat and set my guests on fire.  I’m glad Ma wasn’t there to see that.  She’d have been pissed.

It was nice.  He let me get as many daisies as I wanted.  I like daisies.

Your baldric’s come in handy this time out.  They’ve suited us up with fairy weapons for hitting shadowy stuff with.  The Black Companies back home used to do this sort of work on the Mirk-side of the Lake, but it’s the first time I’ve gotten to see fey action first hand.  Exciting!

I’m dashing this off as we’re leaving Bree.  Witch still isn’t dead, and you know what that means.  Broddi’s splitting time between Rivendell and some secret project thing in town.  Ceci’s worse.  This might be my last chance.

Right, leaving. Got to run.  But look, stay safe.  Be safe.  And remember no matter how awful it gets up there, you’re made of better stuff than you think.  I know you’re not a fan of fate, but it’s not all bad.  Fate or no fate, you’ve got greatness in you or you’d not be up there doing what you’re doing.  Try embracing it rather than drowning it.  Humor me.

Bollocks. Time.  Mind the weather gauge and keep your nose to the wind.

Wynne

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About celeveren

If you're here, you know why.
This entry was posted in Letters. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Writing Back

  1. Woodsong says:

    ❤ Cel and Wynne!

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