[A letter of warm-brown toned paper adorned with neat writing. It has been ruffled a bit and now carry creases created by emotional and upset hands belonging to reader. Despite Arindiis' messy tendencies, this letter is kept in the best condition possible, lying flattened between the pages of an elven book of lore she curiously keeps in her pack.]
My darling daughter Arindiis.
I will spare you a painful wait, by answering your request now, and then try to explain myself.
No, my cub, I will not see you return home yet.
I will understand your disappointment and your sadness. Perhaps you are angry, though I cannot call forth any memories of you in such a state. I pray that you will understand my wish and, if not, at least respect it. I have sought the council of many of the elders, as well as Illías. They believe, as well as I, that your trials are not over.
My sweet child, I hope you know that I love you. I doubt you have ever heard me utter those words, but they are as true as our honey is sweet. Not many hours pass without me thinking of you. When I tread the white snow of the Misty Mountains and a chilling wind bites my skin, I am reminded of your icy eyes, all the emotion they are capable of carrying and the wonderous frigid feeling that I have come to miss. At the briefest mention or sight of burgundy, I remember the scarf I gave you. The scarf of your mother, which meant so much to me after her death and the feeling of absolute delight and pride of seeing it wrapped around your neck. I was honored that you wore it, despite not being as meaningful to you. I often wonder if it is still with you.
The stars upon a cloud-less night sky reminds me of your freckles and your warm smile, guarding a secret sorrow. The wild flowers blooming throughout the calm of the vale brings back bittersweet memories of watching you leave our homely boundaries to pursue your own, lonely adventures.
You were a child born at the wrong time. Your brothers blamed you for the death of their mother. I never blamed you; though through my grief I may have neglected the beautiful daughter, I was finally gifted. Had things been different, life would have been easier for you. And I am so sorry this was the way it had to be.
Arindiis, I am a proud father. Proud of my little cub growing up into both an enchanting woman and ferocious beast, despite the misfortune and blame she has endured.
Please send my regards to both Askelin and Dalfura for taking care of you. Let Dalfura know they are both welcome to return home. I spoke to Grimbeorn. He was happy to learn Dalfura is safe, though saddened at the fate of her mother.
I hope you remain safe, my dear cub.
Your ever-loving father
