FADING, BY EVENING NIGHTSHADE
DISCLAIMER: Sorry, own nothing, so don't sue!
SUMMARY: 'What will you remember, Naneth?' Arwen muses about Celebrian. Short, and somewhat angsty.
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What will you remember, Naneth?
Will you remember the babe you loved and nurtured since conception, the babe who cried the first time you cradled her in your arms? Every year, on the anniversary of my begetting, you recounted the tale to me, as is the custom of our people.
Will you remember a child with flowers in her hair, dancing upon the grass, singing with such youthful naivety? How we enjoyed those times alone in the garden, sheltered beneath the shadow of the rowan tree. There, you first taught me to sew, patiently guiding me through each stitch until I had confidence enough to attempt it myself? Do any of my tapestries still hang in your chamber, all that will remain of your daughter?
Will you remember the maiden they said walked in Luthien's likeness? Will you remember riding at my side the first time we journeyed to the Golden Wood without Ada or the twins? Surely not as vividly as I do. Though I may have come of age many years earlier, 'twas only then that I truly felt it. In all eyes but yours, I was still a child.
Will you remember the girl you left behind in Lorien one year? Never before had you done that; but I begged and begged until you acquiesced. I stood with my grandsire as your escort rode from Caras Galadhorn, watching you disappear into the afternoon. If only I had known I would never again see the mother I knew...
Please, no matter how hard it is, do not remember the pallid girl seated by your bedside, speechless with horror. Try to forget her tears, if you have not already. Never have I felt so truly helpless as I did then; I wanted to run, to hide away, but you needed the love of your husband and children, for only the hope of seeing us again kept you alive in those dark times.
Will you remember the tearful maiden who stood on the shore, watching your ship grow smaller on the horizon? As we turned back to the horses, I wondered how many years your chair would be empty at Yenearsira, how many Begetting Days I would celebrate without the one who gave me life, how long before I too would take the ship and rejoin you in the West. The knowledge that I will never see Valinor, never see you again, tears my heart.
Do you hate me: hate me for abandoning you, hate me for turning my back on my kin, hate me for loving him? I have wounded you; for that, I hate myself. Some mornings, I can bear neither the sight of my own reflection nor my husband; but I cannot blame Estel. I was the one who chose, and I am the one who must suffer.
Will you remember me at all? When millennia have passed, when I am but a tale shrouded in myth, will you remember your daughter, or will I fade even in your heart and mind?
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A/N: I consider this story in the beta stages, and would gratefully welcome all comments/constructive criticism. Thanks for reading.
E.N. :-)
P.S. Yenearsira is the Elvish New Year.