had placed ninglyr on my table, which was much more accustomed to seeing staves and swords as decorative pieces. My unfortunate guest must have been careful to not upset me that entire day, even walking on tiptoes around me.
The bouquet of yellow flowers are the exact same ones you placed in my hair the first time you visited the Drownholt. I wasn't sure if Thranduil's butler even realized the significance. Perhaps it was a lucky coincidence.
I wasn't sure what had inspired me to write this letter. Perhaps it was because I missed your warmth, having left my bedroll years ago. Or perhaps it was because I hoped that this letter would reach you somehow.
