Verity's Book

A, Um, Love Letter

TheFaeFolk

What possessed me to do this, I don't know. Here, read it. I almost cried writing it, but it may not be half so poignant when you don't know all the backstory already.

Lethira,
my love,
my little bird.

I still remember the day I first saw you. Borne over the crest of the road, like a tiny blazing jewel in your great horse's mane, like a living vision of sun and fire sprung from the dead heat of the day.

I think myself so eloquent, do I not? But even my eloquence cannot put down that memory as it shines pure in my mind.

You laugh and blush at my passionate terms of endearment. You tease me when I fumble and stutter over the loving curve of your cheek as you turn towards me with your tender smile, you say you wish you were wedded to a silent man, such as Berethar Mycraí. Well, I have never been able to be a silent man; my heart bursts out whether I will it or no. Even when I repress my feelings – as you know I am wont to do, none better – they will fly out in the end.

Sometimes, my little bird, not often, but sometimes I have forgotten how I love you. Of all those times to forget – during the unshadowed years of life we had together, before this – and yet, now as day after day I fall asleep apart from you, separated by uncounted leagues from your presence and your love, at the time it seems I should easiest forget, you are painfully near. My little bird, I long for you so that it seems as if my heart will snap. Maybe that is why such times come to us, that we may remember our love.

Berethar is near, he watches as I write. I think he knows to whom I write, just as he knows that this letter will never come to you. For who would carry it?

They say we have hope. But it is not near tonight.

Berethar is well – Derek and Douglas are well. We are all well, little bird. But the tower is very near now. Tomorrow – ? I will not answer for tomorrow.

Mordred Kenhelm