Letter #1: Mather to Meira.
Those who have read Snow Like Ashes should be able to guess during what event Mather would have written this.
Those who have read Snow Like Ashes should be able to guess during what event Mather would have written this.
Song best paired with this letter: “Whispers” by
Dave Baxter
Meira,
I’m
sure the first reaction you’ll have when you see this letter is shock that I’m
writing you at all. You, more than anyone, know that I’ve never been good at
expressing myself, especially now, when my trouble voicing how I feel has
messed things up so much. Ice above, everything
is messed up—and I can actually hear you calling me an idiot to that because
everything has been messed up for years.
But
it all feels different now. It all feels . . . real. And ice, Meira, I don’t
want this to be our reality. I won’t
let this be our reality. We got cheated out of the childhood we deserved, and I
won’t let this war take our future too. I used to think that future was in
Winter, and it is—but it won’t mean a damn thing if you aren’t next to me when
we reclaim our kingdom.
I’m
sorry it’s taken me this long to tell you. I’m sorry . . . for a lot of things.
But I realize now who my future is—and I will do everything I can to make it
our reality.
Mather
(I
hope you are shocked that I’m
writing you, because it won’t be the last time I surprise you.
If
you want me to.)
Letter #2: Theron to Meira.
Again, it should be fairly easy to tell where this letter fits into Snow Like Ashes!
Again, it should be fairly easy to tell where this letter fits into Snow Like Ashes!
Song best paired with this letter: “Falling Slowly”
by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova
Lady
Meira, Just Meira,
I
doubt I will gather the courage to give this letter to you for many months (or
years, more like—golden leaves, can we truly speak of things in such lengthy
terms?). Nevertheless, my heart and head are disquieted, and I take comfort in
pouring the cacophony out via pen and paper.
In
the short time we have had together, I sense in you the same desires I
nurture—longings for an accepted existence, free from the expectations placed
on us by factors out of our control. The lives we have been given are not
without their constraints, and I had every mind to fight my father’s wishes
with my dying breath . . .
Until
I walked into that library tonight, and I found myself gripped with the most
inescapable thought: “This girl is a
masterpiece.”
Truly,
I do not know what you are. That was merely my initial judgment, one crafted
based on appearance and the sheer energy you emit. The only thing I know for
certain is that I would very much like to find out what kind of masterpiece you
are, Meira. I hope you permit me to do so.
Most
Sincerely Yours,
Theron
