Letters to Valinor – Lostechil
Third Age 109

Lostechil stood at his lathe, slowly working a piece of mallorn into a table leg of precisely the same size and design as the three others laid out beside him. He preferred to work alone and so the small private studio was housed in a building adjacent to his home. He was rarely disturbed there. His wife and children knew what hours he preferred to work, and few matters were pressing enough to warrant an interruption. The loud, rapid knock upon the workshop door suggested that today was different. Lostechil knew the sound of his daughter's knock but could not imagine what matter would bring her to his door. She was no fan of the woodshop's dust.

"Come in!" he called.

Tirith opened the door but did not enter. She merely peeked inside. "Pardon the interruption, but a package has arrived for you. Mother wanted me to deliver it."

"Can it not wait until supper?"

"It came on a ship from Middle-earth. Mother thought you might want to open it now."

At the mention of Middle-earth Lostechil's thoughts turned immediately to his elder daughter, but he knew if the package had come from Caladhel or any of his kin, Tirith would have said so. He stepped away from the lathe.

Tirith stuck her arm through the doorway and handed him the package. "It is a pretty case," she said.

He took what looked like a scroll case from Tirith's hand and she quickly departed.

Lostechil studied the case closely. It was a work of art, hand carved from wood in an intricate floral design and meticulously finished. It was clearly elven made, but the design was foreign to his eyes. Lostechil knew instinctively that this object was not Noldorin in origin but did not recognize its source. It was, of course, merely a case to house a letter, and Lostechil suspected it was the letter that was meant for him, not merely the housing. He opened the case and removed the rolled parchment, setting the case aside. The stamp upon the wax seal was also unknown to him. It bore the head of a giant elk such as he had once seen roaming the wilds of Hithlum. Lostechil broke the seal and unrolled the parchment to find a letter addressed to him written in a flawless, flowing script.

Lord Lostechil,

If the tales of Valinor are true, then I trust this letter finds you well. I wish I could deliver this appeal to you in person, but I believe it will be some years before the sea calls me home. Until such time, this letter must suffice.

I am unsure if we ever crossed paths before you sailed – if so, I do not recall. I fought in the War of Wrath with the former Lords of Doriath. I know you fought in that war, too, so it is possible we stood beneath the same tent long ago. If we did, I would not expect you to remember me. I am Thranduil, son of Oropher. I write to you now because I have asked your daughter Caladhel to be my wife and to dwell at my side as the Queen of Greenwood.

When I first put quill to paper, I thought stating my case in a letter would be easier than standing before you in judgement. I have since found that sentiment to be mistaken. My papermaker will despair at the lot I wasted in my repeated attempts to put my thoughts into words. I am usually more eloquent, but I have found it hard to describe the workings of my heart. Perhaps that is as it should be. Even so, I have tried to give an account of myself in this letter. If ever I find greater clarity of thought, I will write to you again.

I wish I could tell you that my love for your daughter was born the moment we met, but it will not take long for you to learn otherwise. The details surrounding our first encounter are fraught, and I prefer it if Caladhel and I shared the tale with you in person someday. What I can tell you is upon our first meeting I found your daughter infuriating. Caladhel assures me you will understand my meaning and that you will not take offense at this confession. Your epessë for her was well-chosen and I can attest to the fact that Naurhin's fire has not dimmed with time. Until I met Caladhel, I had never before known an elleth as intractable as myself. She challenged me – and I freely admit my discomfort at being unbalanced by her.

It was the same fierce spirit which first frustrated me that soon captured my heart. The shift was sudden, and it surprised us both, me most of all. The why of it is difficult to share with someone who is yet a stranger. What I would have you know is that before I met Caladhel I had resigned myself to remaining alone. I know every warrior carries wounds from past battles, but mine remain with me in flesh as well as in memory. Caladhel has eased the pain of both, and to my utter amazement, has come to love me despite my faults and imperfections. I had not hoped to be healed on this shore, but with Caladhel by my side I feel reborn – in spirit, if not in form.

I do not pretend to be worthy of your daughter's love. I can only promise you as I did her that I will strive to prove myself worthy in thought and deed every day of my life. Caladhel is my light and my heart. I will cherish and protect her always and I will see her days filled with joy. These things I promise you.

I do not know what else to say, except I hope that if I stood before you and spoke these same words that you would consent to my marrying Caladhel. Celeborn has already given me his blessing, as I am sure he will let you know, if he hasn't already. I trust him enough to believe he will give you a fair account of me, both good and ill.

There is one last thing I would have you know before I end this letter. Caladhel told me that in her youth you thought her too bold, too willful. Perhaps she understood you rightly, but I think it more likely that you feared a spirit as strong as hers would run toward danger and not away from it, as you might wish. If so, you were not wrong. Caladhel is beloved by my people and has proven herself to be worthy of their respect and loyalty. I will leave it to Caladhel to detail how this came to pass, but I will share that their devotion was not won by her turning away from danger. I do not know if it will comfort you, but I think the struggles between you both in those early years were because you were trying to raise a lady, who was destined to be a queen.

Perhaps I will have more thoughts to share with you in time. If so, I will write again.

Until then, may you be well.

Thranduil

Lostechil stared at the signature for a long time, pondering the ellon who signed it. At some point while reading he had seated himself at his desk and he was glad for it, too, for he felt more than a little disoriented by the letter's contents. Once the shock of the message wore off, he read it through once again.

Lostechil recalled meeting Celeborn's cousin Oropher once, but could not draw forth an image of his son. Calathiel might remember him, depending on when he was born. But surely Thranduil would have mentioned knowing Caladhel's mother if he had? When he reached the ellon's description of their first meeting, Lostechil could not help but smile. He had no doubt that his daughter could unbalance a king. Lostechil read within Thranduil's words much that was left unspoken, and he sensed that his daughter's suitor had suffered more than most. There was an undertone of sadness in the way he wrote of his love for Caladhel, and Lostechil could not help but wonder at this pain Thranduil bore that made him feel so unworthy. He would no doubt learn more of Thranduil from Caladhel, but despite his curiosity, Lostechil had no doubt that any ellon who could capture his daughter's heart would need to be extraordinary.

It was the final part of the letter that left Lostechil ill at ease. It should not have surprised him that one who loved his daughter as much as he did would see into the heart of his fear, but to state it so plainly…

It was clear by Thranduil's words that Caladhel had recently run toward danger and it was also clear that the very trait Lostechil had tried so hard to stifle had proved her worthy to be his queen. He did not know at the moment how to reconcile the dream of his daughter, with who she had grown up to be.

… you were trying to raise a lady, who was destined to be a queen.

Lostechil's gaze returned repeatedly to that line. He could not help but wonder if this ellon was right. He would have to think on the matter further, but first...

Lostechil tucked the letter in his breast pocket. He departed the workshop and went in search of his wife.

~Fin~

A/N: I figure Thranduil HAD to write to Caladhel's dad, I just didn't think it fit into the SD narrative.