Disclaimer: I only made up Mithra, Eleniel and Mathas. The idea for this story was my own, but everything else is Tolkein's.
A/N: This is my first fic, so I hope you enjoy it! I hope somebody will read this and leave me a review! Constructive criticism is more than welcome, but please, don't be nasty.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Mithra
Mithra sighed. It had been a long day. In the past, the peace and tranquility of Lothlorien had been soothing, but now the quiet was agonising and the loneliness was overwhelming. The fellowship from Rivendell had left weeks ago, taking the playful young halflings with them. The laughter of Merry, Pippin, Sam and even, from time to time, Frodo, had lifted the darkness that was overshadowing Lorien, and their cheerful voices had brought joy to her heart.
Even the Men and the Dwarf had been a welcome breath of fresh air. They spoke of great cities of the South and of great works of their people, people Mithra longed to meet, cities she longed to see.
Mithra was not like the other Elves of Lothlorien. Some of her qualities were more human than elvish, as her quick temper, inquisitive character and dislike of singing often displayed. She took little pleasure from nature and music, delighting rather in words and dreams of faraway places she read so frequently of in books.
"Mithra?" She looked up to see Eleniel, one of the Lady Galadriel's maidens, watching her from the doorway of her home: a small couple of rooms built on a wooden platform around one of the tall mallorn trees.
She could not help but harbour a small dislike for Eleniel. She was an example of a perfect elf-maiden: tall and fair, waist length golden hair, wise blue eyes set in a beautiful, proud face. Her pure white gown was impossible to look at for too long in the bright sunlight. Mithra felt rather small and insignificant dressed in dull green, but she had never understood or felt the need to look radiant in white all of the time. The colour had never really suited her anyway.
"Eleniel." She nodded. The elf seemed to glide into the room, her gown glistening as she moved.
"I come bearing good news," she said. Her voice was deep and melodic, and the elvish tongue she spoke with made it sound even lovelier than it really was. "The wounded warriors that returned from the battle at Helm's Deep are all hopeful. Many of them may yet live to pass across the Sea."
Mithra put an expression on her face that she hoped looked glad. She knew she seemed selfish when so many of her kinsmen had suffered, but there was only one she truly cared for, only one. She forced back the tears that wanted to spill down her cheeks.
The slight smile on Eleniel's face faded to be replaced with a look of mild pity.
"I'm sorry, Mithra." She laid a slender white hand on Mithra's shoulder in an effort to comfort her. "All who knew him loved him, he is sorely missed."
She was talking about Mathas, the Elf that had once been Mithra's guardian and mentor. Only weeks ago, he had marched away to battle in Rohan, never to return.
Mithra didn't say anything. She sat on the edge of a couch with her hands folded neatly in her lap.
"We cannot linger forever in a frozen moment," Eleniel said. "The river of time flows on; you must let yourself be swept along with it, or dwell eternally in an age of pain. Your life will carry on as it once was."
Mithra wondered at the lack of comfort or understanding in words from one seemingly in possession of so much wisdom. Mathas had been her life: her teacher, her only family, her special friend. What happiness could exist without him?
"Mathas' life has come at last to a sorry end," Eleniel continued, "But I know he would not have you mourn for him. You are fully grown now, and accomplished in both body and mind. You have by nature a strong character and you must use this strength to banish your grief."
"Thank you for your kind words, my lady," Mithra said, though she could think of many things that Eleniel could have done to make them a little more sensitive.
"We shall see you smiling again, ere the high summer comes," the Lady's maiden said. Mithra was not certain whether this was an instruction or a hope and did not trust herself to reply. Standing slowly, she bowed her head again in reverence and watched Eleniel leave.
As soon as her visitor had disappeared from view behind the golden leaves, Mithra half ran into her bedroom and threw herself onto her bed. A single solitary tear rolled down her cheek, dampening the pillow.
No measure was made of the time she laid there motionless, running memories through her head. Happy memories, yet painful to her. Wiping the tears out of her eyes at length, she sat up. The sun was drawing its last rays away over the mountains, but they still glistened, shining on the polished wood of her carved bedposts. Small faces were hidden in-between the typically Elvish designs of trees and flowers. Their clear mirth unsettled Mithra: they appeared to be laughing at her. She scowled in reply.
"And you can stop your grinning," she muttered.
The faces didn't change and she threw a pillow at them with all the strength she could muster, crying out in frustration, anger and grief.
"He promised he would come back!" she told them. "He promised!"
The carvings continued to smile at her, unheeding, and she turned away, folding her arms in her temper. New tears formed only to be blinked away furiously, but Mithra's mind was filling with memories again. Her thoughts went back to the most painful parting she had ever been through.
"I'll come back to you, Mithra," Mathas had told her, holding her in his arms. She wept into the cold, unfamiliar armour of his shoulder and clung to him desperately. "One day," he continued, "We'll go walking together in the woods, just like we always used to."
"Promise to come back," she whispered.
Mathas smiled. "You have my word of honour."
Honour. Mathas had always held honour and nobility in positions of great importance in his life. He encouraged her to be like him, though now she was reluctant to possess the qualities that had made him so eager to go to battle.
"You've got to have dignity, Mithra! A little pride in yourself never hurt anyone!"
A small smile graced her lips; she had heard those words so many times. Hugging her knees under her chin, Mithra let her eyelids droop.
A minute later, they snapped open again as more of Mathas' words came to her. Now that she was a beautiful young (as far as the Elves were concerned) maiden of much intellect and virtue, he had told her countless times, without him, who would protect her when the suitors started arriving?
A/N: Don't worry; it gets more light-hearted as you get further in… I promise! Now please, please send me a review!
lama :D