[This scroll case is brought to Rivendell by Mänik the “magnanimous” raven, who immediately and loudly demands food and rest. Once Maddoct is able to avoid the bird’s pecking and actually open the thing, he finds this reply to his latest letter is written in his mother’s typical style: beautiful and elegant Dwarvish script. A true noble lady's hand, with not a single imperfection.]
To my dearest Maddoct, whom I have nursed and raised, taught and bathed, cared for and cherished more than myself, for you are my blood and most precious creation:
Your upbringing has made you tender, and your experiences outside of home more so. You give apologies and flattery to me in abundance, and you humbly request my understanding. I am comforted to read that you have the foresight to realize that understanding I readily give.
I believe it is myself, rather, who should request such and act meek; perhaps there were faults in my raising, for it appears to be a belief of yours that any portion of me could be upset with you. It is both my own and my husband’s accountability that you have had no desires to visit the Iron Hills; truly, I have oft thought of this and you with concern (as any parent should for their child), and though it has been naught but three years since I last received word from you, it has felt like a lifetime of waiting for news.
This very news — particularly your ‘inclination’ and the entire life you have forged for yourself — came unexpectedly and in more abundance than I would have thought you capable of mustering; as I recall, your prior letter’s contents were minimal. With hindsight, I should have anticipated this, as it is not the first time I have been informed about this part of you. But I know I did not specifically raise my child towards such a thing, nor did I ever desire that path for him, as all my hope was invested in my little Maddoct marrying a nice lady and creating a family within the mountain; I knew that doing otherwise would cause difficulties in his life that a mother never wishes for her son to undergo.
After reading your letter many times, fretting about it before coming to terms with it, and repeatedly remembering how unabashed, bold, and explicit you were in your statement of divergency, I have only this to say in response:
I still love you, and further venture to say that I am proud of you.
That you are happy fills me with a mixed happiness of my own. Knowing that my child is glad, is healthy, is safe, is keeping himself entertained with artistic and intelligent hobbies, and is growing into the kind of Dwarf that asserts himself despite the opinions of others with the feeling that it will bring him the highest quality of life that he could attempt to achieve: all of this makes me prideful, as for so much of your life you have been dreadfully shy or timid, keeping within yourself for fear of disappointing those around you. I am only sorry that you have ever felt that I should be one of those Dwarves who would impart cruel judgement upon you. Your father’s philosophies and teachings are not my own, this I believe you sometimes forget; if you ever wished to tell me something that you rather him to not know... Of course I would keep the knowledge close and private, as your trust is more valuable to me than his.
Perhaps I am a horrible wife, then, if what constitutes such would be a wife choosing her son over her husband. So be it.
Still, I have not kept your correspondence from him, as you bid me to ‘comfort Haddoct or tell him not at all’. The former suits me; the comforting and soothing his upset has always been custom (and he is rather upset at the moment!). I shall attempt to communicate gently and transfer my opinions unto him, though I make no guarantee that he will accept any of it with kindness or comprehension. Perhaps, even, if he still is distressed with you after several lectures, I will give his head a smack, as my hand may better convey his need for sensibility than my words.
Despite all of what is written above, dear Maddoct, I cannot lie and say that I have no measure of dismay alongside that joy and pride. My emotions are tumultuous at the moment, verily; I still desire grandchildren and I still desire you to return home so I may treat you and spoil you as I did when you were but twenty.
These are unrealistic wants, of course, so I must ultimately accept you as you are: the deviant, traveling Dwarf; the soft but stubborn Dwarf; the Dwarf of many crafts which he cares not to master; the Dwarf who causes family scandal (despite his attempts not to); the Dwarf who has caused my hair to go white with worry; the Dwarf who is, above all, my son, whom I vowed to love unconditionally from his conception until the end of my happy life.
As for all of the family you ask after: they are as they have been, and I have been as I always am. I have not yet retired from my craft (nor do I believe I ever will), as I find I would be incredibly bored without it. Haddoct still has his temper as does his brother. That cousin of yours indeed still thinks his musical prowess to be superior to everyone else’s (but I am inclined towards my private opinion that you are better). Of course I mean no ill will towards my nephew, nor would I wish him to think it. But he was not raised with the kindness that you were, and so he is not as kind as you are.
Yes, I have visited the Red Mountains since you last wrote. My brothers have not let age touch their rowdiness in the slightest, thus they continue to get into mischief! Little Guvri is growing into a sweet but spoiled boy (the sweetness from his father and the spoiledness from his mother). As any lad of near-thirty, he much preferred to stay in his room rather than visit with old me, so I cannot yet tell much yet on how I surmise his mettle will ultimately develop, nor how finely he will be as a leader; I’m sure his father and aunt will teach him well (as his mother lounges somewhere else). There are no new developments or changes between those two ladies and their animosity — I try to stay out of it as much as possible.
That is all I shall write; I do not wish to air the family drama here.
I do wish to meet your developing family promptly, though I again recognize that is but a futile want. You will take your time reaching here, I know, and I am by no measure saddened by that thought any longer. Return home when you see fit, Maddoct; the kitchens and beds and sunrises will be waiting. Feel no pressure of expectations from us east of the Lonely Mountain; focus on your happiness there, and when you are fulfilled and ready, I know your wanderlust will someday bring you back here — hopefully with that newly forged family at your side, so I may meet them and love them with unequalled fervor. For, if I am allowed to state, anyone dear to you is surely dear to me in turn.
The special Dwarf, your Maurr son of Bóurr, will be treated by me with nothing but kindness, though do not imagine that I will hold my tongue if I find him unsuitable. That his family is apparently good brings me comfort, but I cannot judge someone’s character through some parchment (despite all your high praises of him). However: I also recognize that even if I think him incorrect, there will be no redirecting of your mind — Haddoct was deemed inappropriate for me, yet I still courted and wedded him. Dwarrow, once their hearts are set, almost never change; I expect you to be no different.
Take care of your heart, Maddoct, as you continue to prioritize your happiness.
I hope to someday meet the bright person that you have become.
~Marlynn
