This parchment was wedged beneath two stones of the cairn of Themodir at Imladris. It would be found only after an Age or more of Man might crumble the very stones. The message on it was written in a firm hand, that mostly betrayed little of its writer's profound emotion.
My darling,
The Order of the Hammer gathered for a feast. I attended in your stead. I ate and drank with your brothers and sisters in arms. All were kind to me. I understand now how proud you must have been to fight at the side of these warriors. I ate and drank with them; I played your theorbo, that something of your beautiful voice might again resound in the kin-hall. Your brother Daegond danced, and would have me play. Yes, he danced! I wish he had not been standing in a tray of potatoes at the time, but he did dance, and just then I saw in his face something like contentment. I bandaged a few wounds -- your brother Ráolor challenged hír Veryacano to a contest of drinking and arms, and suffered a mighty blow that cracked the shoulder of his armour. It is not for nothing that they call that lord "Hammerhand"! You should have been there, but I stood in your stead, and even played a drinking-game with your comrades.
My darling, you were promoted, as were all who served in the Hithaeglir. You received a campaign-badge in the shape of those mountains. I have preserved this carefully, and it will be on my person when at last we meet again in the Undying Lands. I cannot sail West yet, and well you know why; you were there when I swore an oath to Bar-en-Vanimar, no less binding than yours. It is my duty to heal the members of the House, even as they march East to face the Enemy where he has worked sore evil in the Greenwood. I may not sail until I have fulfilled my oath to our House. But when I do, although there is no war in the company of the Valar, I may well bring a pair of the new shoulders to which you were entitled with this promotion -- if only to see your face light with pride.
Before the feast, Tûr Anglachelm led a toast to your memory and your bravery. I held myself together and did not weep, even when Daegond, whom you loved well despite his little peculiarities, added to his toast that you would never die. I wish this were true of your hroa as well as your fëa, my beloved, and that I held you in my arms even now. I wish that we had been able to have our wedding-feast, and wedding-night, for I much desired to give you a son in your image while yet you lived on these shores. But Lilleduil says we shall meet again, and I must be content with that hope.
It is she, indeed, who probably inspired Daegond's promotion gift: a black swan, the resplendent bird of Vanimar's hauberk in the colour of the Hammer. At first he said that he would save it for a time of great hunger, but before all had gone from the hall, he seemed as though he had quite warmed to the bird. It will take care of him, as my Rámarilla looks after me. I pointed out, indeed, that such birds make great sentries. All who saw it were impressed, and could not help noticing that it began at once to follow him like a puppy.
Oh, talking of animals, I suppose! Though the title "Hound" remains with Daegond in his role as Sergeant, it is none other than Fingolrin who now assumes the duties of aide to hír Veryacano. He volunteered at once when the Hammers were asked who would take on this job. You would be proud of the stoicism with which he accepts the great difficulty of what he has undertaken. He is a true credit to your Order.
The newest recruit, Losgael, is an elleth of great promise. I have told you, hugging this very cairn, of how we discovered that young Meluilindele is the son of the cousin who saved my life. So, as his only living kinswoman, it fell to me to consent to his eventual marriage to Losgael, once her duties are finished -- and through his compassionate gift, it was my cousin's own hammer that she swung in her trial by combat. She attributes her success to my encouragement, and will not quit asking for tales of your life and your bravery. I suppose I must tell such tales, that your legacy remains as long as the Quendi remain upon the lands of Arda.
Oh, my true love, my beam of light, my handsome dancer. As much as it honoured me to attend this feast and receive your promotion for you, it broke my heart afresh to look around and realise what you should have enjoyed one more time -- the camaraderie of soldiers at play, perhaps for the last time before their great deployment. You should have been there, meleth nîn. If all were right, you would have.
I promise, my darling, that I will be brave, though you have gone from these shores for ever. I promise that I shall fulfill every bit of my duty to this great House, and to look after your comrades for you, for that you cannot now stand between them and the Dark.
With infinite love, and following your example of faithfulness to duty, I remain
Your own Airesarë Celulinda "Manadhlaer"
