Hello, everyone. Mother, Father. My friends. All of you.
I am writing to you from directly outside of Lórien. See how beautiful it is, even here, the forest outside Lórien lit by the moon and lantern light. It is calm, and relatively comfortable, for a mere campsite for those who may not enter the wood. I stopped for but a moment to change my clothes and make myself presentable. And then, excited to return home, I entered Lothlórien.
…And then you, my own people, struck me down as an outsider – an enemy – as I entered our woods. An arrow was let fly and lodged in my shoulder, and a second nearly missed my back as I tried to get away. Nearly incapacitated by the wound, I crossed the river to safety, and Thalya dressed my injury. I am in shock.
You know me. I am Valaraen Avariquen, daughter of Valaríon and Alatháriël. I am known within this wood, my family is known within this wood, as well as Mirkwood to the south, and Rivendell to the west. Have you put into exile my family?
It is incredibly painful to write this letter – emotionally and phsyically.
I left with your unconditional love and support. But now, upon my return, I was shot by my own kinsmen. If my family and friends – my own people – will not welcome me back to my own home with open arms… Perhaps I shall find someone who will welcome me to theirs.