8-17-03

Sorry I took so long to update!

I am going to answer a few questions here.  People have emailed me asking about my character, about why she was so determined to fulfill her father's wishes, especially when she did not want to comply.  The reason I write about her like this is because that is probably how women in Middle Earth were.  I enjoy headstrong, rebellious female leads just as much as the next fanfic author/reader, but I felt it was time for a different take on the strong female protagonist storyline.  Even if Astal is a little meeker than many would like, she's very strong, as I hope you will all discover!

3.  Letters

I sat down on a comfortable chair in the sunlit room and opened the folder. I was surprised to note how many papers were in the folder, but luckily they were all neatly organized and bound within the folder. I turned my attention to the first page. It turned out to be a letter from my father.

My dear Astal,
I have no idea how old you are now as you read this, or how much your mother and I have told you. It is probably best for me to assume that we have told you nothing, so I will start from the beginning, assuming that we have kept you in the dark up until this moment.
If you are reading this letter it most likely means that either your mother or myself has passed away. I can think of no other reason why you would be looking through the trunk in our room. Sadly, my daughter, this folder will not hold much with which you might assuage your grief.
If I am dead, you will most likely know of a betrothal that your mother and I made for you, when you were merely five years old. If you are an adult, you probably wonder why we did not tell you of this years ago. We did not tell you because we had high hopes of the whole thing being called off eventually, and if there was a possibility that it might come to pass that the betrothal was unnecessary, then there would be no reason to worry you with the idea.
Why the betrothal to Gormin, you probably ask. Firstly I must assure you that Gormin's father Garlamin is a very kind, respectable man (it is his wife who worries me!). As I write this letter, you are six, nearly seven years old and Gormin is nine, and I have no way of knowing what Gormin will be like in the future, but for your sake I hope he is as admirable as his father. However, I had no wish to force you into a marriage, and this betrothal was a marriage of what you might call "convenience."
If you are not sitting right now, daughter, I suggest that you do, because I am assuming that you do not know what I am about to tell you.
You were not born in Gondor. You were born just outside of Laketown, which is a few miles east of Mirkwood and west of Erebor. Your mother and I were visiting relatives of hers there, and had intended to return to Gondor long before your birth, but a series of storms and other events forced us to remain in that town for several months longer than we had planned. In the end you were born in a small house on a homestead only a mile or two from Laketown. However, it was not only you that was born there. You had--have--a twin brother. Corwiin [A/N: this name is meant to be pronounced "kuh-WINE", with a silent "r" and emphasis on the second syllable]. He was born only minutes before you.
However, the little farm where your mother's relations lived was far enough from the protection of Laketown that it was at risk. Parties of marauding brigands roamed the countryside, and we were unfortunate enough to be the target of one of their raids.
They attacked that little farm at night. Your mother's cousin and all of his family save one child survived, but in the fighting little Corwiin vanished. We have reason to believe that the brigands did not kill Corwiin, because we gathered a large party of men and searched the countryside for weeks afterwards, and we never found a body. One of your mother's cousin's children was killed, and his body was immediatly discovered. We have no idea why one body was discovered but not the other, but this gives us reason to hope that Corwiin survived. Unfortunately, the brigands have reputations as being fine woodsmen, and if they do not wish to be found, then we will probably never come close to discovering them.
Over twenty years ago (remember that as I write this you are only six years old!), Garlamin still lived in Laketown with his father and his family. They had been stationed there by Denethor's father, as representatives of Gondor. During his young adulthood there, Garlamin established a reputation as being something of a trouble-maker, if you will. Nothing serious, just a few harmless pranks. Twenty years ago Denethor called him back to Minas Tirith, and Garlamin moved his family back to Gondor. However, I have reason to believe that Garlamin retained his contacts in Laketown, and I am almost positive that those contacts include at least one brigand, even if that one brigand was not a member of the party that stole Corwiin away from us.
To make this short, I will cut to the chase. Corwiin is probably still with the brigands, and has most likely been brought up to believe that he is one of them. But this makes no difference to me or your mother. Garlamin has agreed to do everything in his power to find Corwiin, but he has admitted that it will be an extremely difficult task, and it could possibly endanger his good reputation in Gondor (his trouble-making days were left behind in Laketown). However, his price for this search was you, Astal. As his lovely wife so nicely put it, if his reputation was to be lost then he should at least have a good connection to a well known, respected family; namely, us. Lienin also demanded a large dowry, but we did not find it unreasonable.
As I write this, Astal, I hope that Garlamin has begun his search. Perhaps he will find Corwiin before you come of age, and perhaps we can work out a new deal that does not require you to marry Gormin if you do not wish to.
However, if that cannot be arranged, I am sure you understand why we have done this. If I am dead, Astal, please find within your heart a way to forgive me. I have included all the necessary paperwork for you in this folder. I hope that you lead a long and happy life.
All my love,
Father

I put the folder down and stood up. Before I read the rest of the folder, I began to pace to clear my head a little bit. Corwiin, I thought to myself, trying out the name in my mind. I have a brother named Corwiin. When I thought I was composed enough to return to the folder, I sat back down in the chair and turned to the next page.

The rest of the book was filled with documents and such. I found a certificate of birth for myself and Corwiin. I read the correspondance between my father and Garlamin regarding the betrothal. There was a copy of the final betrothal agreement, as well as letters between my family and my mother's cousin (whose name was Jorin). There were copies of the official records of the searches for the brigands. There was a single sheet of paper including all of the information that Garlamin had at the time.

However, it was the last things in the folder that surprised me the most. A browning slip of paper, which proved to be over eighty years old when I glanced at the date, showed of a debt of five hundred gold coins owed to my grandfather by his cousin, who was Denethor's father. Judging from the slip of paper, it did not appear that the debt had every been repaid. Attached to the old parchment was a note in my father's handwriting, saying that this money could be used to pay for my dowry, if it was needed.

The last thing in the folder was a large packet of papers, which turned out to be the plans for a magnificent summer home in Ithilien. Apparently my father had planned ahead, and had begun the plans as soon as possible. Knowing my father, I was sure he had done it for my sake as much as for Garlamin's; he had known that if I married Gormin I would probably be spending time at the summer home as well.

Shakily I closed the folder. By this time it was nearly dusk, and the light in the cabin was fading. It was too late to start my journey back to Minas Tirith, so I prepared for bed. As I stared at the ceiling above me, waiting for sleep, my thoughts went back over the information I had learned today.

Why had my parents kept Corwiin a secret from me? And why had Garlamin and Lienin not mentioned that part of the betrothal deal? The questions tumbled around my head before I finally fell asleep.

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The next morning I began my journey back to Minas Tirith. A few days later I had returned to our home in the city. By now most of the house was empty; much of the furniture had been sold, and the house itself was in the process of changing owners. I had already found a small apartment to rent. It was in a quiet part of the city, and would be perfect for me until I married.

Glancing in the till, I sighed when I noted how little money there was. For the furniture and house I would receive perhaps two thousand gold coins; more than enough to pay for the dowry. But because of the nature of such large transactions, it would be several months still before I had all of the money. At the moment I had perhaps a hundred gold coins, seventy five silver, and numerous coppers. That gave me a total sum of about one hundred seventy gold with which I was to live for the coming months. With the five hundred coin debt, I would be able to pay the rent on the apartment and live comfortably, if not lavishly, for about eight months.

A knock on the door announced the arrival of a visitor. Startled, I hurried to open the door. It turned out to be a servant of Garlamin's delivering a letter. I thanked him and gave him a copper coin for his troubles. The man bowed but did not leave, saying that his master wished a reply, and I sat to read the letter. I was surprised to realize that it was not from Garlamin or Lienin, but from Gormin.

Breaking the wax seal, I read the letter quickly and was shocked to see what it said. Gormin, the wild, rude, ill-mannered urchin boy from the streets of Minas Tirith, was inviting me (very politely, I might add!) to spend a day with him in a week! He said it was to get to know each other a little better.

Blinking, I rummaged around a desk that had not been sold to find a pen, some ink and a piece of parchment paper. I wrote a polite reply, accepting Gormin's invitation (what else could I do when he had asked so courteously?), and sent it back with the servant.

When the man had gone, I sank down into a chair and sighed.

The last weeks had been filled with far too many shocks and surprises, but I knew that the chaos had only just begun.