"Seven Stars Set in a Silver Sea"
Herein is the told the story of Arwing, daughter of Aragorn and Arwen, and her friend, Silwen, daughter of Faramir and Éowyn. The first letter opens twenty-seven years after the destruction of the One Ring and the return of the king.
Author's note: We have done our best to keep accurate all Tolkien's characters mentioned in The Lord of the Rings, and in our invention of new characters we have tried to remain true to his style. Arwing, though her character was imagined for this story, could have been one of the daughters mentioned in the appendix to The Return of the King. Silwen's character is a little more arbitrary, being invented entirely for the progression of this story.
We have had a lot of fun putting these letters together and hope you enjoy them.
We would love feedback (i.e. positive comments or constructive criticism)!
~*Vané Alasse and Daughter of Elessar*~
PS Apologies if we've totally messed up the Elvish! We tried...
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A LETTER TO THE PRINCESS OF GONDOR
My dear Arwing,
How are you? How fares life in the White City? All in Ithilien goes well; the flowers are in blossom and Father is home for a while. You know how he has been so busy these past years with the conclusions of wars, as has your father.
You write much less now than you used to. Are you ill? Perhaps you are absent from the City? In that case, why do I bother to write? Well, dear, I have nothing better to do and, besides, I long for your company.
How is your brother? Does he continue to grow more like his father every day? I so long to visit you, but I do not see this happening any time in the near future. Mother has been trying to arrange a trip to Rohan. Perhaps the next time I write I shall be far away in a strange country, though this will not bring me any closer to you or Minas Tirith.
I have never set foot in either land of my ancestry, but am so at home and content here in the forest and woods. I love the stillness and the lushness of such a place. And the elves! How I love the elves. Father laughingly complains that Ithilien is not what it once was now that the elves have settled here. He says the woods are alive now, while before they were caught in a sleepy stillness. I cannot imagine it otherwise than it is now. The elves seem to belong here, as do the soft shadows naturally gracing the floor beneath the boughs of the aged trees.
Speaking of elves, I long to see the sea! The elves here are constantly chatting and singing of its glories, and I feel I cannot wait much longer to see it. Lord Greenleaf is especially anxious to leave, although if you understand elves, and since your mother is one you should, anxiousness in an elf can last for several thousand years of song and tale with no carrying out of anything. So, as much as I am fond of Lord Greenleaf and his tales, I fear I have not much hope of him ever taking me to see the white gulls and silver shores.
Boromir is getting so tall of late. As you know, he is two years younger than I am, being seventeen, but already he has far surpassed me in stature. Father says he has been fittingly named and that the semblance of his sleeping brother lives again in his son.
How hard it must have been for Father to loose his brother in the War. Mother, too, suffers great lose from the battles. I often see them walk together under the moon-lit trees and hear them whisper of days long gone by. When they return Father's face is always graver and shivering tears trace Mother's face. But together they are strong and by morning, after the calmness of the cool night, they are quite themselves again. (You may think I have been eavesdropping, but there is almost no such thing as regular sleep here while the elves are present. Their peace and their voices calm us and the need for much sleep is not present as you talk of its necessity in the City.)
Oh dear, I must end once again. Little Théodwyn is calling me...
Mellonlín,
~Silwen
Herein is the told the story of Arwing, daughter of Aragorn and Arwen, and her friend, Silwen, daughter of Faramir and Éowyn. The first letter opens twenty-seven years after the destruction of the One Ring and the return of the king.
Author's note: We have done our best to keep accurate all Tolkien's characters mentioned in The Lord of the Rings, and in our invention of new characters we have tried to remain true to his style. Arwing, though her character was imagined for this story, could have been one of the daughters mentioned in the appendix to The Return of the King. Silwen's character is a little more arbitrary, being invented entirely for the progression of this story.
We have had a lot of fun putting these letters together and hope you enjoy them.
We would love feedback (i.e. positive comments or constructive criticism)!
~*Vané Alasse and Daughter of Elessar*~
PS Apologies if we've totally messed up the Elvish! We tried...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***********************************************************************
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A LETTER TO THE PRINCESS OF GONDOR
My dear Arwing,
How are you? How fares life in the White City? All in Ithilien goes well; the flowers are in blossom and Father is home for a while. You know how he has been so busy these past years with the conclusions of wars, as has your father.
You write much less now than you used to. Are you ill? Perhaps you are absent from the City? In that case, why do I bother to write? Well, dear, I have nothing better to do and, besides, I long for your company.
How is your brother? Does he continue to grow more like his father every day? I so long to visit you, but I do not see this happening any time in the near future. Mother has been trying to arrange a trip to Rohan. Perhaps the next time I write I shall be far away in a strange country, though this will not bring me any closer to you or Minas Tirith.
I have never set foot in either land of my ancestry, but am so at home and content here in the forest and woods. I love the stillness and the lushness of such a place. And the elves! How I love the elves. Father laughingly complains that Ithilien is not what it once was now that the elves have settled here. He says the woods are alive now, while before they were caught in a sleepy stillness. I cannot imagine it otherwise than it is now. The elves seem to belong here, as do the soft shadows naturally gracing the floor beneath the boughs of the aged trees.
Speaking of elves, I long to see the sea! The elves here are constantly chatting and singing of its glories, and I feel I cannot wait much longer to see it. Lord Greenleaf is especially anxious to leave, although if you understand elves, and since your mother is one you should, anxiousness in an elf can last for several thousand years of song and tale with no carrying out of anything. So, as much as I am fond of Lord Greenleaf and his tales, I fear I have not much hope of him ever taking me to see the white gulls and silver shores.
Boromir is getting so tall of late. As you know, he is two years younger than I am, being seventeen, but already he has far surpassed me in stature. Father says he has been fittingly named and that the semblance of his sleeping brother lives again in his son.
How hard it must have been for Father to loose his brother in the War. Mother, too, suffers great lose from the battles. I often see them walk together under the moon-lit trees and hear them whisper of days long gone by. When they return Father's face is always graver and shivering tears trace Mother's face. But together they are strong and by morning, after the calmness of the cool night, they are quite themselves again. (You may think I have been eavesdropping, but there is almost no such thing as regular sleep here while the elves are present. Their peace and their voices calm us and the need for much sleep is not present as you talk of its necessity in the City.)
Oh dear, I must end once again. Little Théodwyn is calling me...
Mellonlín,
~Silwen