Two journal entries in the hand of Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, speaking to the men in her life and of the nature of home.

Úrimë 3020

The bright sun of summer now rules over the plains. Not a breath stirs the long grass; waves flowing through the tasselled green signal clearly that a rider is coming or going. The distance is full of silence, or sometimes the humming of insects in the heat.

I love my new husband and my new life, but I miss you, Father, and I miss the sea. I miss the smell of salt and water-weed and the clean, sweet taste of spray on your skin when you come to kiss me goodnight. I miss the singing of the waves that I did not even realize accompanied my steps as I danced through my days. I miss the curling, plunging froth of foam where you taught me courage and to trust myself. I will trust myself, and know that this is the current that flows through my life.

I am sometimes a little melancholy at low tide, when the receding breakers leave me feeling stranded on alien ground. Sometime my star falls, blazing, from the sky and lies trapped in the tidal pools, searching for shade and longing for the deeps. But though the waters of Belfalas have ebbed, the waters of The Mark have rolled joyously in. Before too long, my husband's arms will surround me, lift me like a wave and offer me the depths of sky or sea, whichever will fill my need for home. And every day, I willingly fall again, to feel myself lifted by that wave.


Dol Amroth
Úrimë 3024

It seems strange to me to be sitting in a courtyard, high above a city that has no taste of rich turned earth nor surging current of soft-scented green that billows all the way to its doors. Looking down, tier upon tier of buildings and roads remind me that I am back in the Land of Stone. Only when I raise my eyes to the horizon, to the constantly moving waves, do I feel a connection to the wind in the high sweet grass of home.

I have spent much time before the hearth, holding my brother's new baby, watching my father's face glow and laughing at tales of childhood adventures. I have been sharing warm wine and eating mussels from the shell, savoring the taste of the sea on my lips, knowing that if you were here, you would kiss me to share the taste - not wanting to have the cold, wet morsel in your own mouth.

At night the sighing of the surf sings a sweet lullaby that reminds me of the winds that whisper about our windows when you stoke the fires and blow the candles out· and especially when you do not.

I have loved this shared time, the linking of arms and hearts that keeps a family strong. But now my heart cries to be with you, and the sky and the sea join in the longing. I cannot remember so many storms in a season since the summer that Grandfather died, when every day the sky would cover the tears on my face with its own.

I miss you, beloved, and rejoice that soon I will turn my craft and steer for the safe harbour of your heart and our home.


October 18, 2003
For Starlight of Dol Amroth, and Louis of Meduseld
Congratulations on the joining of your lives. May every day you share make you feel more at home.

This story was written for the "Letters and Journals" challenge at Open Scrolls Archive

This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for private enjoyment, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.


October 2003
henneth annun
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