Topic: Epistles

Peredhil

Date: 2008-05-08 18:42 EST
The white envelope, unremarkable except for the small Elessari emblem emblazoned on the back fold, arrived at the Studio in the late afternoon with the daily mail. In Peredhil?s tall, flowing script, the letter inside read:

Dear Juliane,

By the time you read this letter, I will have returned to Elessar. You probably wonder why I write you to inform of such a trivial event, but this time I plan to make my stay here permanent. I have sold my home in the Southern Glen and attempted to cut what ties remain in Rhydin.

Please forgive me for not saying farewell to you in person. I owed you that and more, but in the end I could not summon the courage to do so. It is much easier to admit the affection that I still harbor for you on paper than in the flesh. You have been a good friend, even when I did not deserve such kindness, and for that my gratitude extends beyond words.

As you are aware, Elessar continues to face dire threats. They require a clear mind and an attention to detail, but I was unable to possess either in Rhydin. It will not be easy to adjust to life without Rhydin, but adjust I must, for Elessar?s sake and my own.

My friend Wes will be in and out of the city over the next few weeks. In the case of an emergency, you may locate him at the Glenview Tavern in the West End. You can trust him to deliver any message that you leave with him. Juliane, you are the only one who knows how to contact me, so I kindly request that you keep this information confidential.

Have a wonderful life, Juli. I?ll miss you.

With great fondness,

Peredhil

Juliane Smith

Date: 2008-05-13 00:51 EST
The day had been a long one. The Lark had kept her busy, not to mention the afternoon's excursion with Jolyon for a most eventful lunch. Twilight was falling and yet she could not shake the remorseful feeling as she flipped the sign to "Closed".

Since the wedding and Juliane's adopted duties of shopgirl and house-sitter, the Studio had sat dark and empty. A moment lingered at the door before she nodded decisively and dashed back to the counter to grab her bag and a thin jacket. There was still enough time to make it across town before night fell in earnest, and the thought of puttering around a house that was not hers for another night in a row was enough to send her out the door in a whirl, the door locked shut tight in her wake.

Blocks blurred as her feet carried her on towards the building, pulling up short just in time to slip in the door before she would have ended up on the docks, unaware that she had passed it. The air was tinged with memory, an odor that triggered a smile -- canvas and stone, paint and metal. The Smith Studio mailbox was bulging and then quickly relieved of its burden as she tucked the mass of letters and mailings in the crook of her arm. "If Missus Fitzwilliam doesn't stop givin' m' name out ta paint all th' dogs in Rhy'din, I'm goin' ta have ta move." The gruff muttering echoed in the empty stairwell as the flights were managed two steps at a time.

The studio door swung wide and she dropped her bag and the mail on the work table. Leaving the door open, Juliane lit the work lamps from the glow of light from the streetlamps through the window and the stairwell light from the door. In moments, the room had adopted it's cheery nature, satisfied by the end of its temporary abandonment. The entrance pushed shut against the night, Juliane turned her attention to the clutter of mail.

"Advert, advert.. Johnny, advert, me..." The pieces were quickly sorted into appropriate piles before one odd envelope caught her attention. It was unlike the other missives received as of late -- those were heavily drenched in sickening perfumes of custom stationary and frilly penmanship including silly scribbles of "Please read!" or "Fifi wants to meet you!" Well, at least hers were. Her twin somehow managed to acquire sane clients with challenging commissions.

The envelope's edge torn open, the signature leaped from the page as nimble fingers unfolded the crisp letterhead. Leaning against the table, she read each line slowly, her lips moving in silence as the words sunk in. Her face could not hide the surprise she felt, on a wide span of levels.

Her arm quickly pushed all the other mail to the far side of the table before pulling a nib-tipped pen and a fresh sheet of paper from the nearby shelf. A reply was in order and would be dropped off to the Glenview before she returned to the Lark.

Juliane Smith

Date: 2008-05-13 19:19 EST
When unfolded, the handwriting that spanned the page in neat lines was crisp and fitting the writer, bending neither to convention or feminine abundance, but each letter clearly formed with a distinctive slant not easily mistaken for another.

The language, written in proper form and without the audible inflection of accent, still retained her voice and it seemed to ring in his ears.

Peredhil,

It is hard for me to comprehend how you could have made such a difficult decision. Yet, what I find even more puzzling is that you would have known the bent of your path at the last we saw each other and remained silent.

I can almost hear you offering up the reasons -- that the wedding was not to be marred with your news -- but you have friends who have always stood beside you and those who will continue to do so. Those relationships can handle even the toughest of moments. We may not be Elessari but that does not mean that your fate and that of your people is not of concern to us.

What is it about the male species that makes them think that they gain more by leaving than they do by staying? The women in their lives are always the ones having to adapt to their absence, adjust to holding onto memories instead of making new ones, and find contentment in sporadic messages in the life being lived without them. At least I've had some experience with it, I suppose. I had to survive Johnny's departure and will have to do the same with yours. Do not think that survival equates with happiness at the situation. If anything, it is an acceptance of what one cannot change.

There was a pause in the writing, a splatter of ink to one edge, as if the pen had been sat down for a period of thought.

A swath of ink created a line, more script below.

The last seems harsh, and I do not mean it to be. So I shall ask your forgiveness. You are doing right by your people and your father in returning home. My affections cannot supercede their needs or the issues facing them in the days ahead.

Know that you will be missed and if the time ever comes, you need not stand alone. It shall be hard to keep your absence, or the reason for it, from my family once they hear the news, but I shall keep your secrets safe as if they were my own.

There was no way for the letter to end that could perceivably come close to accurately containing the breadth of feeling contained therein. Only one word sufficed.

Juliane

Peredhil

Date: 2008-05-13 21:48 EST
Clasping the burly man's arm in greeting, Peredhil could not help chiding gently, "What was so important that I had to be called back to Rhydin?"

His eyes narrowed at the smirk Wes gave him. Watching with barely veiled impatience as his friend walked over to the small desk in his rather sparse room, Peredhil blinked in surprise when Wes pressed a worn envelope into his hands.

Opening it with nimble fingers, he skimmed the letter quickly, then returned to the beginning and perused each line carefully. A slight frown appeared as he reread the first part, but by the time Peredhil had finished, his face wore a pensive smile.

"Good news?" Wes ventured.

"Worse than I thought," Peredhil responded, chuckling at Wes' puzzled expression. "Shall we stop by the inn? I could use a drink."

Peredhil tucked the letter back into the envelope and placed it in his pocket. Stepping out of the Glenview Taven with Wes, the two walked in silence through the West End towards the Red Dragon Inn.

Peredhil

Date: 2008-05-24 13:30 EST
Peredhil's last stop before he left Rhydin was the central post office, where he deposited a blue envelope destined for the Smith Studio.

Juliane,

These past couple of days with you have been magical. I feel like I am still walking on clouds. Though our farewell this morning was not easy -- I cannot imagine it ever becoming so -- the knowledge that I will see you again shortly eases the ache.

Our relationship is at an inchoate stage, and I still have much to discover about you. I know enough, however, to recognize that you are an extraordinary individual, a rara avis (and that is meant as a compliment). You have given me comfort and hope, made me believe again that anything is possible. Someday I hope to show you how much that has meant to me, especially during these troubling times. Whether it was kismet or a lucky coincidence, I cannot say for certain, but I am thankful either way.

Please take care. Until our next meeting, I remain

Yours,

Peredhil