I miss so many people from home, but I miss you most of all.
There are lots of folk who know you here. The Iron Bull, Cassandra, Asala, Sera, Cullen, Krem...but I don't think any of them know the you I know. They speak very highly of you - they recognize your skill with a bow or a blade, your wit, your beautiful voice - but I think you're already more of a legend than a woman to most of them. Asala and Cassandra, not quite as much...but you and I were young together, and that's always a little different, isn't it? I like your Inquisition friends, though. They're good people. It's especially fun to actually meet Cassandra after hearing of her in your letters from Val Royeaux - she is exactly as you described!
Alistair and I are running a tavern here, and you're one of the few people who wouldn't think that was so very odd. They all know him as The King of Ferelden, not the Warden who never wanted a crown or a country. They know me as The Hero of Ferelden, not the girl who would have preferred to marry her human lover and go fight more Darkspawn instead of leading anybody to anything. But you know us, the real us. I'm sure you'd have no trouble imagining us slinging pints and being disgustingly publicly affectionate.
We decided to call the tavern The Rose, and we're having a very good time with it. I enjoy making the liquor, but I particularly love running the bar. There's always someone to talk to, always a new story to hear, and every now and then I even get to help someone through a problem without having to kill anyone. There's still something trying to kill us every few weeks, of course, but it's yet to be anyone trying to kill us personally, so that's nice. Especially since I'll be putting down my blades for a few months.
That's the big news here: I'm going to have a baby this summer. It's unexpected, of course, and I'm so happy I could just about jump up and down with it. I'm a few months along now, just barely starting to show, and of course I worry about all kinds of things. I'm following the healers' advice to the letter, because I know this is almost certainly my only chance, and I don't want to jeopardize it for anything. So for the first time in my life, I'm being good and taking it easy. I can't decide if I'm hoping for a boy or a girl; I don't think I actually care. Half-elven children almost always take after the human side physically, so either way I'm probably going to be towered over by the time they're 6 years old or so.
I hope all is well with you. The last letter I had from you was just after you lost Dorothea; I hope time and justice have eased that wound somewhat. I worry for you sometimes, you know. You take so much on yourself, and I'm not sure you even let Andraste take much of the burden from you anymore. I was talking to a young woman today who reminded me so much of you. She was calling together a bunch of women to play music, just for fun, and she was so passionate about it. On the surface you're as different as can be, but I saw that spark and that love of music and I couldn't help but think of you. She was the one who suggested that I write to you, even though you won't get the letter. I'm going to burn this paper when I'm done, and I'll toss the ashes into the wind on the mountainside. I'll take a deep breath, and let that damp, ice cold air remind me of our first climb up the Frostbacks on the way to Orzammar, when you tried to convince Morrigan to upgrade her style a bit and she looked at you like she wanted to set your hair on fire with her mind and Zevran laughed and Alistair looked for a rock to hide behind if Morrigan finally lost it and Wynne smiled that smile that said she had a quip that she was keeping to herself.