*Tolkien owns all his characters
Amani waited, it had been a long time since she had seen her husband last and she watched the horizon for a sign that he may be near. But on this eve as usual, only the stars appeared on the horizon, not the silhouette of a man. The moon was new and it's thin crescent hung just above the treetops, already sinking, just like her hopes in the turquoise sky. She eased back in her chair, rubbing her calloused hands together and watched as the fiery pinks and reds in the sunset clouds faded to gray. She was fading too she thought; they had been newly wed when he left to fight this war, but that had been more than half a year ago and she felt her spirit growing thinner as each day on this lonely farm at the edge of Mirkwood passed in quiet solitude and toil. She only went to town once a month and most women were just as she was, too anxious and busy for mirth, even the land seemed to be holding its breath in quiet anticipation. But as the night sky darkened to a cobalt hue, she got up from her rough wooden chair. She knelt to the ground, and bowing her head she prayed, begging Ilúvatar and His host to bring her husband back so that her heart might once again feel happiness, the wind blew about her, carrying her softly uttered prayers with it, onto parts unknown. With shoulders sloping from the weight of her troubles, she turned away from the moonlight and went inside to sleep, unawares of the changes that were to come with dawn. ******************************************************* The Lady of the Stars brought forth the light of the morning star as the creatures of night retreated back into the darkness of their caves and wooded hollows. Those of the day still slept on, for even the cock had not yet begun to crow. Amani slept too, dreaming of a child she had never met, but she had always assumed would be hers.when Anborn returned. A sudden pounding on her door roused Amani from her sleep. She leapt from the bed, pulling her blade from beneath her pillow. The large hound she kept, paced and barked at the door. "Amani," a muffled voice called from beyond the door, "come quickly, oh come fast, they have, they have arrived!" Amani pulled the door open, her eyes wide with excitement; she grabbed the woman who was hoping from foot to foot in excitement by the shoulder, "They have returned?" The younger woman nodded breathlessly, "The watch spotted them coming from the Southern road just a few minutes ago." "Then lets be off," she said, slipping her shoes on and bolting the door behind her. They raced towards town, arm in arm while the silvery dog kept pace with them in an easy stride. The fields on the either side of the dirt lane sloped away, glowing a misty green as the morning dew rose from them in the warmth of the rising sun. Amani's heart was racing as they rounded the rutted bend into town, kicking up clouds of dust as they went. They slowed down as they reached the town; the crowd was too thick to barrel through. Women and children milled about everywhere most were crying, some from loss but others from joy. Amani lost her friend as she was swept into the throng of people. She eased through the mass of bodies searching and calling out for Anborn. She felt her apprehension grow as the minutes ticked by, 'surely he would not have stayed behind?' The sense of fear oozing in her stomach solidified into a great stone, the moment she saw the long faced Captain of the Guards moving toward her. His purposeful step and grim look said everything she needed to hear. "Dear Amani," he said sadly, "your husband lost his life on the field of battle, fighting as bravely as any great warrior ever had." She averted her eyes from his and nodded, feeling the tears already burning her cheeks. She could not speak from the tightening of her throat with grief so she simple patted his shoulder and turned away to leave. She had only moved a few steps before he caught her arm. 'You cannot leave Amani," the Captain said, his eyes pleading. "You must stay and feast with us this day, for the honor of our men, those who have lived and those who have died." She sighed, and agreed that she would stay, it was the right thing to do, and she had to honor the brave death of her husband. The afternoon moved sluggishly for her, she wanted only to return home to do what had decided upon the moment she knew he was dead. She felt dead inside and she wanted to let that feeling take hold of her, to lie down and never awaken. She smiled at this thought, to let her body fall to ruin while her soul searched for lost husband. "Little love, that's the first smile I've seen from ya all day," said a older woman sitting next to her. "Thank you Tired Peredhil, but I am only smiling for those who have found their loved ones, not for myself." "Oh now," said Tired, "you will feel joy again, though it will be hard. I lost Master Peredhil only ten years ago but every day it still hurts a bit. Now child, why don't ya come live wit me till you're back on your feet?" "Thank you again Tired," Amani sighed, wishing Old Peredhil would let her be, "but I've managed so far, I'm sure I'll survive." Of course she had no intention of doing any such thing. ****************************************************
The sun had sunk low and she, like most of the other mourners had slunk off back to their homes. She listened to faint sounds of revelry behind her and she wandered down the road. The sounds faded and were soon replaced by the lowing humming crickets and the ever-repeating crescendo of the locust in the forests at the fields' edges. The night seemed clean and peaceful and she felt suddenly that she might miss this lovely dusk if she ended her life, but she quickly dismissed the thought as cowardice. She knew exactly what she would do. Before Anborn had departed, he had planted a small patch of foxglove. He had acquired the seeds during his days as a Ranger in the Northern lands and he had planted them to be used as a final means of escape should the powers of darkness win the War.
"If we should fail in this fight, take the leaves from this plant eat as many as you can. It will be foolish to fight then because there will be multitudes of Orcs and they will torture you for an eternity if you are found alive," he said as he held her hands in his, kneeling before the patch of freshly turned earth. Amani looked at him gravely, this was a great task for him to ask of her, "I will, but may it never come to pass." He smiled at her and kissed her forehead, "we shall pray it does not." Then together they rose entered the house for there was much to be done.
She stood in the garden, looking at the little patch of green. The moon hung above her head though passing wisps of clouds skirted it. Bending over the shrub, she pulled up several bunches of leaves. "Anborn," she whispered, "I'm coming to you, love, and I cannot be separated from you." She began to put the leaves in her mouth when she stopped short, the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight up.
She felt, rather than heard the approach of her old friend, for she moved as stealthily as the wind through the trees. "Put it down," commanded the voice behind her, soft but powerful, with a hint of sadness to it. Amani turned around, her eyes wide with shock. She stared unbelieving for a moment before she dropped the weed to the ground and ran to her friend, embracing the elf warmly.
"My goodness," Amani whispered, "what are you doing here?" "I'm here to see you, I need your strength, just as you need mine," the gentle lady answered Amani. She stepped back, looking at the tall elf. "Bragolfalasion," Amani whispered, "he is dead then?" The other woman only nodded, her grief apparent, even through the silvery glow that emanated from her person.
"How is it that you are pregnant then," Amani asked looking her friend's swollen abdomen. "Before he left, and now I am almost full term," she replied, "and when I learned that he had departed this world for Mandos' gray halls, I could not bear it, so I ran, and found my self in the woods when I saw you coming by the lane. The grief on your face was so plain, that I knew you were feeling the same loss as myself." Amani nodded, her eyes sparkling with tears, "Oh my friend, dearest Sariel, it has been ages since we walked together in these great woods, but now, at the hour of our greatest need, Ilúvatar has brought us back together. Now please, come inside with me, it is not good for someone in your condition to be out in the dewy grass."
Once inside the house Amani drew up water for tea and started the fire. "Oh Amani, you don't need to trouble yourself, just sit and lets catch up on our lost years." So they sat by the fireplace, talking until the dawn arose of all that had passed since they had last played as children in the great Woods.
More than a month passed as the two friends lived on the farm without much occurrence except for the various callers that came to console Amani's grief, but usually left entranced by the beauty of the young widow's strange cousin. (It had been many years since the Elves of Mirkwood had emerged from their ever darkening wooded home, and most rustic folk had simply forgotten they even existed.)
Life continued on until one night, Sariel felt the first pangs of childbirth. The birth was hard and lasted for over two days. Amani stayed tirelessly by her friend, working with her to bring the child into the world. It was only after another twelve hours had passed that a wailing elf girl uttered her first cry. "She is amazing," Amani, said, "such a lovely child." She placed her upon Sariel's chest and wiped her friend's sweat drenched face. Even though Amani tried to ignored the pallor in her Sariel's cheeks, the weakness in her eyes was unmistakable. "Yes," she croaked, her voice barely a whisper, "she is lovely, my little Elemmírëornendil. She shall be the star-jewel, and tree-friend, so those who were lost may hear her song and come back to the unending light and living waters."
"What," Amani asked, feeling rather puzzled and more frightened by the moment, "what do those strange words mean? Stay awake Sariel, don't fade from here." But Sariel could not keep herself from the light that was enveloping her, pulling her away from her own body and this mortal world, for too much blood had been lost. "Fear not, take the girl and raise her as your own, she will find her way if she wishes." Sariel breathed her last as the child began to wail. Amani wanted to wail also, but she knew she could not, for the child needed her and by Ilúvatar she would not fail her friend. *This was just setting up the odd circumstances of the girl's birth and the prophecy that will later become her destiny. Thanks for reading and check back soon.
Amani waited, it had been a long time since she had seen her husband last and she watched the horizon for a sign that he may be near. But on this eve as usual, only the stars appeared on the horizon, not the silhouette of a man. The moon was new and it's thin crescent hung just above the treetops, already sinking, just like her hopes in the turquoise sky. She eased back in her chair, rubbing her calloused hands together and watched as the fiery pinks and reds in the sunset clouds faded to gray. She was fading too she thought; they had been newly wed when he left to fight this war, but that had been more than half a year ago and she felt her spirit growing thinner as each day on this lonely farm at the edge of Mirkwood passed in quiet solitude and toil. She only went to town once a month and most women were just as she was, too anxious and busy for mirth, even the land seemed to be holding its breath in quiet anticipation. But as the night sky darkened to a cobalt hue, she got up from her rough wooden chair. She knelt to the ground, and bowing her head she prayed, begging Ilúvatar and His host to bring her husband back so that her heart might once again feel happiness, the wind blew about her, carrying her softly uttered prayers with it, onto parts unknown. With shoulders sloping from the weight of her troubles, she turned away from the moonlight and went inside to sleep, unawares of the changes that were to come with dawn. ******************************************************* The Lady of the Stars brought forth the light of the morning star as the creatures of night retreated back into the darkness of their caves and wooded hollows. Those of the day still slept on, for even the cock had not yet begun to crow. Amani slept too, dreaming of a child she had never met, but she had always assumed would be hers.when Anborn returned. A sudden pounding on her door roused Amani from her sleep. She leapt from the bed, pulling her blade from beneath her pillow. The large hound she kept, paced and barked at the door. "Amani," a muffled voice called from beyond the door, "come quickly, oh come fast, they have, they have arrived!" Amani pulled the door open, her eyes wide with excitement; she grabbed the woman who was hoping from foot to foot in excitement by the shoulder, "They have returned?" The younger woman nodded breathlessly, "The watch spotted them coming from the Southern road just a few minutes ago." "Then lets be off," she said, slipping her shoes on and bolting the door behind her. They raced towards town, arm in arm while the silvery dog kept pace with them in an easy stride. The fields on the either side of the dirt lane sloped away, glowing a misty green as the morning dew rose from them in the warmth of the rising sun. Amani's heart was racing as they rounded the rutted bend into town, kicking up clouds of dust as they went. They slowed down as they reached the town; the crowd was too thick to barrel through. Women and children milled about everywhere most were crying, some from loss but others from joy. Amani lost her friend as she was swept into the throng of people. She eased through the mass of bodies searching and calling out for Anborn. She felt her apprehension grow as the minutes ticked by, 'surely he would not have stayed behind?' The sense of fear oozing in her stomach solidified into a great stone, the moment she saw the long faced Captain of the Guards moving toward her. His purposeful step and grim look said everything she needed to hear. "Dear Amani," he said sadly, "your husband lost his life on the field of battle, fighting as bravely as any great warrior ever had." She averted her eyes from his and nodded, feeling the tears already burning her cheeks. She could not speak from the tightening of her throat with grief so she simple patted his shoulder and turned away to leave. She had only moved a few steps before he caught her arm. 'You cannot leave Amani," the Captain said, his eyes pleading. "You must stay and feast with us this day, for the honor of our men, those who have lived and those who have died." She sighed, and agreed that she would stay, it was the right thing to do, and she had to honor the brave death of her husband. The afternoon moved sluggishly for her, she wanted only to return home to do what had decided upon the moment she knew he was dead. She felt dead inside and she wanted to let that feeling take hold of her, to lie down and never awaken. She smiled at this thought, to let her body fall to ruin while her soul searched for lost husband. "Little love, that's the first smile I've seen from ya all day," said a older woman sitting next to her. "Thank you Tired Peredhil, but I am only smiling for those who have found their loved ones, not for myself." "Oh now," said Tired, "you will feel joy again, though it will be hard. I lost Master Peredhil only ten years ago but every day it still hurts a bit. Now child, why don't ya come live wit me till you're back on your feet?" "Thank you again Tired," Amani sighed, wishing Old Peredhil would let her be, "but I've managed so far, I'm sure I'll survive." Of course she had no intention of doing any such thing. ****************************************************
The sun had sunk low and she, like most of the other mourners had slunk off back to their homes. She listened to faint sounds of revelry behind her and she wandered down the road. The sounds faded and were soon replaced by the lowing humming crickets and the ever-repeating crescendo of the locust in the forests at the fields' edges. The night seemed clean and peaceful and she felt suddenly that she might miss this lovely dusk if she ended her life, but she quickly dismissed the thought as cowardice. She knew exactly what she would do. Before Anborn had departed, he had planted a small patch of foxglove. He had acquired the seeds during his days as a Ranger in the Northern lands and he had planted them to be used as a final means of escape should the powers of darkness win the War.
"If we should fail in this fight, take the leaves from this plant eat as many as you can. It will be foolish to fight then because there will be multitudes of Orcs and they will torture you for an eternity if you are found alive," he said as he held her hands in his, kneeling before the patch of freshly turned earth. Amani looked at him gravely, this was a great task for him to ask of her, "I will, but may it never come to pass." He smiled at her and kissed her forehead, "we shall pray it does not." Then together they rose entered the house for there was much to be done.
She stood in the garden, looking at the little patch of green. The moon hung above her head though passing wisps of clouds skirted it. Bending over the shrub, she pulled up several bunches of leaves. "Anborn," she whispered, "I'm coming to you, love, and I cannot be separated from you." She began to put the leaves in her mouth when she stopped short, the hairs on the back of her neck standing straight up.
She felt, rather than heard the approach of her old friend, for she moved as stealthily as the wind through the trees. "Put it down," commanded the voice behind her, soft but powerful, with a hint of sadness to it. Amani turned around, her eyes wide with shock. She stared unbelieving for a moment before she dropped the weed to the ground and ran to her friend, embracing the elf warmly.
"My goodness," Amani whispered, "what are you doing here?" "I'm here to see you, I need your strength, just as you need mine," the gentle lady answered Amani. She stepped back, looking at the tall elf. "Bragolfalasion," Amani whispered, "he is dead then?" The other woman only nodded, her grief apparent, even through the silvery glow that emanated from her person.
"How is it that you are pregnant then," Amani asked looking her friend's swollen abdomen. "Before he left, and now I am almost full term," she replied, "and when I learned that he had departed this world for Mandos' gray halls, I could not bear it, so I ran, and found my self in the woods when I saw you coming by the lane. The grief on your face was so plain, that I knew you were feeling the same loss as myself." Amani nodded, her eyes sparkling with tears, "Oh my friend, dearest Sariel, it has been ages since we walked together in these great woods, but now, at the hour of our greatest need, Ilúvatar has brought us back together. Now please, come inside with me, it is not good for someone in your condition to be out in the dewy grass."
Once inside the house Amani drew up water for tea and started the fire. "Oh Amani, you don't need to trouble yourself, just sit and lets catch up on our lost years." So they sat by the fireplace, talking until the dawn arose of all that had passed since they had last played as children in the great Woods.
More than a month passed as the two friends lived on the farm without much occurrence except for the various callers that came to console Amani's grief, but usually left entranced by the beauty of the young widow's strange cousin. (It had been many years since the Elves of Mirkwood had emerged from their ever darkening wooded home, and most rustic folk had simply forgotten they even existed.)
Life continued on until one night, Sariel felt the first pangs of childbirth. The birth was hard and lasted for over two days. Amani stayed tirelessly by her friend, working with her to bring the child into the world. It was only after another twelve hours had passed that a wailing elf girl uttered her first cry. "She is amazing," Amani, said, "such a lovely child." She placed her upon Sariel's chest and wiped her friend's sweat drenched face. Even though Amani tried to ignored the pallor in her Sariel's cheeks, the weakness in her eyes was unmistakable. "Yes," she croaked, her voice barely a whisper, "she is lovely, my little Elemmírëornendil. She shall be the star-jewel, and tree-friend, so those who were lost may hear her song and come back to the unending light and living waters."
"What," Amani asked, feeling rather puzzled and more frightened by the moment, "what do those strange words mean? Stay awake Sariel, don't fade from here." But Sariel could not keep herself from the light that was enveloping her, pulling her away from her own body and this mortal world, for too much blood had been lost. "Fear not, take the girl and raise her as your own, she will find her way if she wishes." Sariel breathed her last as the child began to wail. Amani wanted to wail also, but she knew she could not, for the child needed her and by Ilúvatar she would not fail her friend. *This was just setting up the odd circumstances of the girl's birth and the prophecy that will later become her destiny. Thanks for reading and check back soon.