It would seem that Fate has had a goal in mond for me that I never anticipated. My errand to prove my worth to Linglorel's father has set my path on roads that are strange to me. Though I have journeyed through the Misty Mountains in my errands for Lord Elrond of Imladris, I have never sojourned beyond them. I am eager to see what lies beyond the snows of these towering hills, and yet anxious of what I may encounter. I have heard naught but stories of the Vales of Anduin and the Dale Lands, and mere stories are hardly a preparation for what dangers may lie in wait there. I am confident in the friendship my company may find among the Beornings -- perhaps save for master Frimsi -- but what lies beyond the land of our allies is beyond my reckoning. Will I have the strength of arms to endure it. My spirit is willing, but I will require caution in my mind and heart if I am to return from this task alive.
Linglorel stirs in her sleep as I write, and I keep her warm in my embrace this night. Her face seems serene, as though she is caught in the reverie of a pleasant dream. I hope that she may experience such pleasant dreams for the remainder of her days in Middle-earth. My dearest and fairest Tindomiel, you know that my heart is yours, and that I love you above all on this good earth. Though my days are numbered and yours are not, I would have you know my love for all my days until death calls me to rest.
You may not know, or know little of this matter, but your mother has given her blessing to us. When my days are passed, I would have you journey into the West to the Undying Lands. Take the memory of our love with you, and treasure it forever. I will have passed into the Halls of Mandos, and from there to a fate yet unknown, but the joy of our love need not be forgotten. For now, we must treasure our days together, and dwell not on when we are separated. These are days of joy. Remember that always, my dearest love.
