Tengwar: To The Letter by cuarthol

Óre (heart)

She was sitting in a tree...
(No warnings.  Drabble)

Túrin had been a quiet child, but thoughtful and quick to learn.  Nellas cherished the rare smiles she coaxed from him, the rarer laugh.

As he grew, he turned to heavier matters - swordplay and warfare, eager to follow his father’s path.  She mourned the loss of his companionship, but kept a close eye whenever he ventured into the woods.

His unexpected return from the marches made her heart sing.  How handsome he had become, full grown by his own measure.  How well he fought, despite his dishonorable opponent.

How deeply she loved him, knowing she would never win his heart.