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To Solais, High Queen of the Seelie, Bright Lady, etc

From Maglor, once Makalaure Canafinwe of the House of Feanor, now of the Drabwurld,

Greetings.

The High Queen Morla has seen fit to grant me the life of your Clarisse La Rue, as is my blood right for her execution of my brother. Accordingly, I have trusted this letter into her hands to give to you, since you saw fit to ignore the one delivered earlier. My little one, by the by, is displeased that you rendered her hard work moot. Clarisse La Rue is not safe from me. I trust that the letter is delivered by her hands will make this clear. But I wish her also to learn the bitter taste of mercy from her enemy's hands - her life is mine. And I choose to spare it. May the hot coals of my mercy be her bed.

Perhaps this is a lesson you could also learn, High Queen. Do you sleep well at night? Does the loss of your army trouble you? Or perhaps you are too high to care. Understand that this most recent skirmish you could have prevented. You could have prevented this fight, but instead you allowed it, and rejoiced as your armies defeated Morla's. They say you kind and gentle but I say you are treacherous, who hides cruelty behind sweet smiles. Does my brother's death please you? Did you smile as Clarisse took his life? Does it please you to send children to the battlefield, do you tell them that they will win glory and honor? There is no glory on the battlefield, High Queen, only misery.

My power is all but spent, and the flames of my life gutter low. But what strength I have, as my father's son, this curse I leave to you. May all you do come down to ruin, unless you learn again the value of mercy and teach it to your court. I do not trust Morla. But I trust you even less - and the enemy, they once said, of my enemy is my friend. No aid will ever come to you from me or mine, nor to any emissary from your court.

Maglor