Three Letters by Talullah

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Chapter 1

Azrubêl is Eärendil's name into Adûnaic and means "Sea lover".

Írimon is Tar-Meneldur's birth name; Anardil (friend of the sun) is Tar-Aldarion's birth name.

There are a few articles with detailed analysis of Tolkien's night skies, but I needed a cheap and dirty approach and based myself on the useful "shopping list" at Wikipedia.

Aldarion was born on 700 S.A.

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Six
Sorontil, Urimë 12th 706

My dearest darling,

I write this letter in the late hours of night, my sweet Almarian, after spending the better part of an hour telling (or rather, retelling, for the millionth time) to our dear child the story of Azrubêl. Please, do not wrinkle your beautiful forehead, my darling – I know how important it is to you to keep a semblance of a routine, but surely I am allowed to spoil our little Anardil and myself a little during this short time away. You said we needed a break from the daily routine of Armenelos and you were thoroughly right. I am finding much peace in the starry skies and long, vacant days.

As for our son, you should see how his eyes glint at the mention of our illustrious ancestor and of his swan wife and their enchanted ship sailing through the skies. As soon as the first light of Gil-Amdir shines, he runs out of the tower and into the clearing and lies on his back, on a perfumed bed of pine needles, staring at the sky much like we used to do on our honeymoon. I should probably not confess as much, but he is a persistent little fellow, our little Anardil, and independent-minded. I imagine you are probably smiling, imagining his latest antics.

Speaking of which… when can we expect you to join us on our little holiday? We both miss you terribly, my Nierninwa. Is your mother faring better? I do hope so. Please send her, and your father, my regards.

Today my letter shall be brief. We are to awake in the dawn to watch the shooting stars. Anardil already knows where to find Wilwarin, and below it, the skyscape where the meteors will appear. I have not explained to him yet what it is exactly he shall see – I mean it to be a surprise. I must invent some fable to amuse him. Shall I tell him they are faeries? Or powers of the West? Perhaps not that… one should not want to be impious.

Do not worry, though, about the late night and early rise – I will make sure Anardil will take a nice, long nap in the afternoon. I will probably join him myself. You are all that is lacking for our perfect happiness here.

Your loving husband,
Írimon.

Urimë (hot) is the Quenya calendar month equivalent of August and the 12th is meant to coincide with the Perseid meteor shower.
Wilwarin – Cassiopeia. I could not find a Tolkien equivalent to the Perseus constellation but hopefully this will do the trick.
Nierninwa – Sirius.
Gil-Amdir – Another name for Eärendil’s star.

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Sixteen
Rómenna, Ringarë 24th 716

Dear Mamyl,

I swear I tried to follow your advice. By the Lady Uinen, I tried, but Father does not listen. I probably should have said goodbye before leaving, but know that I am well in Grandfather’s house and that I am loving Rómenna as always, despite the miserable weather.

Is Father very angry? Do you think he will send for me? I do not wish to return to Armenelos to sit idly in the council room, listening as the old geezers talk and talk and talk only to arrive nowhere. Father is not yet king and already wants me to start learning the trade. Sometimes I think Aunt Silmariën would be better for the job, despite being a woman. Father only ever goes about ruling as if it were a great burden. He would rather sit up north, in his tower, thinking of abstract notions instead of producing the vital knowledge our mariners need. Ai, the blood of Eärendil seems not to run as strong in his veins as it ought to. How can he not feel the urge to set sail, instead of remaining in our little island? There is a full world out there, and instead he tells me to see the small things through new eyes each time. Does that even make sense? Oh, I know that to you it does, Mamyl, but I am not built that way. Grandfather Vëantur understands me best.

I am sure that by now you already have heard his version of the events. In my defence I have to say that I never lied – I simply did not tell the whole truth. There is a difference, do you not think, Mamyl? I can almost see you shaking your head, but I did not mean to deceive Father at all. Longitude is the greatest problem that any mariner shall face. As you well know, the dead reckoning we use allows us to sail a few miles west or east but as soon as we lose sight of land, it becomes unreliable. If we are ever to reach the continent without major losses of ships or time, we need to find a more accurate way to navigate. Father does not understand this – he goes on about the Ban of the Valar, even though I have promised him again and again that I only want to sail east and see the lands there, and the elves.

Grandfather Vëantur says he agrees with me but that he will not interfere. It kills me, absolutely destroys me, to think that Father has all that knowledge stuffed in drawers, that he has tables upon tables of data that could revolutionize the way we move in the world… What he forgets, is that he has spent years talking about the night skies and that I have learned much from him. Even if he forces me back to Armenelos, I will continue working. Every night I will measure, several times, the distance from the moon to Borgil, like he has, and maybe one or two other celestial bodies. I shall need then to compile all this information and prepare it in a way that the average mariner can easily use. I will need a lot of time to do this.

Mamyl, please forgive me for involving you in this feud between Father and me, but could you ask him for the tables? I will do this one way or another, but with the tables at hand, I could focus on other things that are crucial for Elenna to venture out into the sea. You are the daughter of a great mariner, surely you can see how important this is…

I am sorry, Mamyl, if I am a disappointment to you too. I hope not. I will make you proud one day, you will see, and I will bring you fabulous gifts from the continent, for you, and for little Ailinel. How is she? I hope that she is not missing me too much. I will give her a big kiss and throw her in the air as many times as she wants when I am done with this task.

I saw Great-aunt Mairen the day I arrived. She said I was welcomed to her house. I was glad. It is not my fault if Grandfather Elendil and she do not see eye-to-eye. I wish all the family feuds would be over.

Oh, by the way, Grandmamma sends you her love. She says you should come and visit. She is not feeling well again. Aunt Fíriel is here to help her with the exercises for the bad leg.

Mamyl, please forgive me the long, rambling letter and the way I left. I love you very much. And Father too, despite that he sometimes makes me so angry.

Your loving son,
Anardil

Borgil – Aldebaran
In maritime navigation, longitude was a problem notoriously resistant to solution – I just gave Aldarion a leg up. ;)

Ailinel would be 4 here.

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Twenty-six
Rómenna, Lótessë 4th 726

Dear daughter,

How fare you? I hope that this letter finds you in good health. And Ailinel? She had grown so much, the last time I saw her. I miss my granddaughter! When will you give us another little bundle of joy? Oh, I have news – your mother has finally persuaded your little brother that it was time to marry. Now we have guests for dinner almost every night! You are too kind to make sport of anyone, but I am not – it has been a true procession of candidates, each one more dressed up than the previous!

How is my law-son? Still rowing against the tide? Anardil is a born mariner, and the blood of Eärendil runs strong on his veins. I am glad that over the years they have made concessions, side-to-side, but I fear that our boy will still lock horns with his father many times in their lifetime. Anyway, the future will take care of itself. I am writing to announce that we will be trying for the continent for the first time. Anardil has worked relentlessly. I think it will be fine!! We do need you, my darling. Your mother should be the one bringing the oiolairë to the ship, but she says it might be too much standing for her poor legs. She is walking less and less these days.

I can think of no one else I would rather have in her place, and neither can Anardil. I am sure my sister and her daughters will turn up their noses… I am grinning, just thinking of it. Oh, do not mind me, I am a wicked old fool who loves you very much.

We will sail at the next full moon. We will be waiting for you.

Your loving father,
Vëantur