“Dear Fin,

Have you only been gone for three weeks? It feels more like years, alone every night with no company but your paintings and the cats. It was wonderful to get your letter. I never expected you to write, you will only be away for about two months, after all, but we fell in love through letters. It made me smile to have our situations so reversed from when we first met, with me here this time and you back in Mithlond. No tent for me, no wind howling outside, I am curled up warm and safe in our cave, while I suspect your circumstances are rather more comfortable than I knew when I lived in the palace.

The building work continues on schedule, and the last of the barracks roofs have now been thatched to match the Hall of Fire. It all looks very pretty actually and I think will be lovely when winter comes and we have snow, especially with the trees behind them. The trees are starting to look as though they have always been there, not like something planted to form a windbreak – it all feels quite homely. I had to go across the river today and on my way back I stopped to lean on the bridge railing and just take in the scene. You would never say this was a military garrison with stores, commander’s quarters and barracks, it all looks more like one of those great estates that you told me about in Aman.

I am so glad you finally had a chance to spend time with your cousin, I know how fond you are of her and remember how you worried about her safety during the war. I am also quite excited at the thought of meeting the redoubtable Lady Galadriel for myself, and of course her husband and daughter. Elrond is rather less thrilled. He has under two months to organise a family-sized guest apartment and feels the time and labour could be better used on the proposed new dining area. Between us, I think he might be a little nervous at the thought of visitors. Tell her to be kind about the mess, could you?

My garden is coming along nicely, thank you for asking. I still smile when I remember the night I complained that there were no flowerbeds in Imladris. I had no idea you kept all my old letters, I was stunned when you brought them out to show me I had asked about flowers years ago. Such a romantic; my letters carefully stored in a basket you had made yourself. I still get a lump in my throat just thinking about it. At any rate, the land near our new apartment is perfect for flowers, sunny, not too big and sheltered from the wind.

I hope you haven’t mislaid the list of flowering bulbs I gave you. Just hand it to one of the palace gardeners and ask him or her to find everything for you. I tried to remember what was growing there before I left, but twenty years is quite a while to keep something like that fresh in memory. Perhaps if some choices prove difficult, they could suggest an alternative. I have finished deciding how to set out the beds so that it looks informal and almost natural, and Nibeniel, Galuarth and Lindir are helping me find stones with interesting shapes and colours. How would you feel about a lily pond? Elrond just looked at me strangely when I mentioned the idea.

I have to start packing soon, I suppose. I hardly know where to begin, it is quite startling to see how many ‘things’ we have accumulated in such a short space of time. I thought all the extra space we are about to move into would be too much for just two people, but now I am not so sure. Your art supplies alone will have no trouble taking up an entire room. The small room you originally chose strikes me as better used as a study, while that somewhat larger extra room has far more light, and I think you should have it. I am a little concerned about the living room, but I suppose we will manage to fit everything in somehow. The bedroom on the other hand is larger than we need. Not sure what to do – I thought of commissioning a new bed, larger than our current one, but I could already hear the jokes.”

Res put down the pen and flexed his fingers. The room was very quiet, no sound to be heard other than the ever-present rush of the water. He suddenly found himself missing Háran dreadfully, missing the warm presence and sound of breathing that had always been his company when Fin was from home on patrol or for any other reason that kept him away overnight. Háran had left them nearly three years ago now, but they had agreed to give it a decent interval before looking for another dog to share their home and life. The old dog had been a dear friend, neither of them wanted any suggestion of a replacement.

He told himself off for being morbid and looked around. Lamplight softened colours and corners vanished into dimness, but there was no mistaking this was a home rather than just a place to sleep and eat. The soft mohair throws for which Imladris was already becoming famous were draped over chairs, their jewel colours glowing in the warm light, rich tones of purple and orange, green, yellow and blue. Cushions, sent for from Lindon, offered additional comfort as did mats and skins on the floor, while paintings and tapestries brightened the walls. There were plants in the corner that received the most light when the door was open, because Res always had to have growing things around him, and Fin could refuse him nothing.

They had found they rather liked entertaining, so there was a table and six chairs divided from the main room by a prettily worked screen, while a bookcase disguised the work area, where there was a long table, one end of which was for Res, the other for Fin. Res’s side had an intricate filing system with shelves and pigeon holes, while Fin still somehow managed to work out of two boxes marked ‘to do’ and ‘done’.

The bedroom opened off the main room, the doorway covered by a curtain hung by loops from a brass rail. Res looked across at it pensively now. That room held a lot of their history as a couple. They had made love there for the first time, laughed together, argued, even talked all night on more than a few occasions because they never seemed to run out of things to talk about. All their most personal treasures were there. During winter or in bad weather Háran had slept on a blanket in the corner, sneaking onto the bed late at night…

Res turned back to the letter. Writing to Fin still felt as it had before, as though they were sitting in the same room, sharing thoughts. Right now, he needed that closeness, needed Fin’s solid warmth to block out the sadness he felt every time he realized they were about to leave these rooms and their magical memories forever. The move was necessary of course, desirable too. These rooms would be incorporated into a proper dining area, curved and gracious, with delicate pillars holding up a roof that would arch smoothly back to the cliff face, so Sael and the new architect, Rîwgann, said. He and Fin had been given a princely suite of rooms in the main house, with a wonderful view of the second waterfall and the tree-dark slope opposite.

They were very lucky and he knew they would soon settle in and be happy there. Just – packing up and leaving was so very hard to do, made harder still by Fin’s absence. They were so good at making one another laugh, cheering one another on through difficult times, he had quite fallen out of the habit of managing alone.
“Remember to try and find me some books, I am desperate for something new to read. Also, if you can find a few natural history or astronomical works, they would be a useful addition to the library. We could have parts copied as study aids for the young ones as well. Someone needs to do something about a proper syllabus for them, not the haphazard system by which they currently receive their education. I wonder if His Majesty could be prevailed upon to supply us with a teacher, someone who likes children? Could you talk to him before you leave? I’m sure you could persuade him.
That reminds me – I hope you didn’t forget to give him my letter. I told him how much we would all love for him to make the journey out here to visit us once the next building phase is finished. I emphasized that because I know Elrond could not deal with a royal visit at this stage. We have far too much work to do without that level of distraction, and he would want it all to be perfect. He is so proud of Imladris, he always likes newcomers to see her best face.

They wanted to cover up the firepit in the Hall of Fire! One of Rîwgann’s bright ideas, yes – it could only come from someone who never sat out the war here and had no way of understanding the sense of community that hearth gave us. Amareth put him straight in short, sharp sentences. I thought Sael would sink into the ground. I love the way he always gets so uncomfortable when his wife expresses herself in such a forthright manner, but is so proud of her ability to stand her ground as soon as she isn’t around to do just that. Anyhow, the Hall will remain as it is, just get a few daubs of paint and a nice rough-stone path leading from the main entrance of the house.

The ducks are back, by the way, greater in number and messier than last time. I have no idea what we are to do, but there will be weeping children if we start killing them for the pot. They are as bad as you, busy naming the ducklings.

Love you, my Fin. Miss you terribly. This will be the longest two months of my life. Next time you have to visit Lindon for any reason, I am going with you. Imladris will not fall down without me here, Elrond will just have to see to his own administrative work and accounting. I still have no idea how I ended up doing this, I am useless with money, as you know well.

Enjoy the big city (I know you will) and take care on the journey home. I think of you every night before I go to sleep and every morning on waking, and most of the time in between. Hurry home.

All my love, always.

Res.”

~*~*~*~

“Dear Res,

You are quite right, I have a full suite of rooms overlooking the sea with far more space than I could ever need for myself; it just cries out for your presence. I took a walk a few days back and visited the staff wing, so I have finally seen the view you used to describe to me. You would have been on the first floor, I suppose? I almost feel that I should have asked for your old room. I wonder how much everything has changed in the past twenty years.

I spoke to Gil-galad about sending a teacher to Imladris and said that if he wished for more details, he should write to you. He decided it would be a waste of time and energy on his part and that he may as well give in and get it over with. That was the voice of experience; your reputation for never taking no for an answer has made its mark. As for books, I have already found a good book supplier and will bring a few works home, with others on order. Yes, I remembered.

I am glad to learn the thatching was finished well before the cold weather and that it all looks so well. Your description of the scene from the bridge made me feel quite homesick. And I am happy that you will have your garden at last, heart’s own. I know how much that means to you. I have most of the bulbs you asked for, plus some packets of seed and a number of young plants which I have been told to transport with the greatest care, water along the way, not allow to tip over, keep free of pests, and an almost endless list of other warnings. I hope they reach you alive, I feel quite intimidated.

Galadriel is well, as always. I still have to think before I use the name but I am improving. Her husband and I get along quite well, but the one I have spent the most time with is my young cousin Celebrían. She is a wonderful companion, very warm and friendly once she gets over her shyness and very intelligent. She has travelled all over with her parents and met all manner of people. She can even say a few words in the dwarvish tongue. I think she and Elrond will get along very well when they come to visit; he is far too serious for his own good sometimes.

Perhaps we can contrive to damage the bed when we move it across? Then we could replace it without embarrassment and just happen to settle on a larger one? Something with pretty hangings. The bedroom I have here is nicely furnished with a big four poster bed, a comfortable chair by the window for reading, a wardrobe (with a mirror on the door, a truly novel idea), and a table at the foot of the bed for flowers and book. I thought we might try something similar?

Where did Rîwgann think the Hall of Fire took its name from? Well done to Amareth for saving the firepit! It has been the heart of Imladris from the start, more friendships than I can count have been forged there, still are. I plan to take Gil-galad there and introduce him to that dangerously potent ale from Bree when he visits. I suspect he will enjoy it, he has an amazing head for alcohol. (don’t ask) As for the ducks; I fear you will have to put up with them for yet another year, love. I draw the line at allowing anyone to eat a bird that has been given a name. How would Elrond feel about a pond further down? We could try and train them to stay there.

The city is empty without you, every time I see something interesting or beautiful my first thought is to wonder what you would think or say. Next time, if there is a next time, you are most certainly coming with me. I am enjoying the exchange of letters once again but nothing can substitute for your presence, for being able to touch you, hold you, stroke your hair, kiss your lips. I had no idea it was possible to miss somebody so much.

I bought a few things I think you will enjoy and have ideas for other purchases, most of them for our new home. I think we need to make a few changes, otherwise it will be too much like transporting our first home into a bigger space and finding that nothing fits properly. I admit I will miss the old rooms, they hold so many shining memories of the last twenty years. Strange, looking at what I just wrote I realise the past twenty years have held more consistent happiness than the rest of my two lives combined. Thank you, heart’s own.

Take care, be happy. I will be home before the trees have finished turning.

Love you always,
Fin.”

~*~*~*~

Beta: Red Lasbelin
AN: written for Agie, with love.