No clutter up here. Notes dispensed below. ; )
/\/oOo\/\
There is something painful about perfection . . .
Nimiriel could see her daughter.
She could see her directly in front of her, the roses in her cheeks and the glitter in her eyes so real that she could almost reach out and touch her.
Almost.
The little elf child laughed, and she could hear it echoing through her own mind, achingly, heart-breakingly lovely. She beckoned to her mother as she twirled, still laughing, a happy sprite to bring peace and joy to all those who beheld her.
Nimiriel didn't note the exact moment she began crying.
Her little elfling's silky, glossy golden tresses whirled about her perfect face, shimmering golden silk in a halo about her head, the vivid blue of her eyes recalling with painful accuracy and beauty that whom her father should have been. She could see his eyes in hers, almost feel the delicate smoothness of his own neatly bound tresses through watching hers, though she had never dared reach out and touch those belonging to he.
Her own smile danced on her full, pert and moist lips, her own face, round with childish innocence gleefully surveyed her woods, and the dress that her own hands would have wrought with care and love in every stitch flared at her tiny ankles.
She felt her heart stutter. The child was so unbelievably, frighteningly perfect.
Nimiriel had seen beauty, and seen destruction. She had felt sorrow deep enough to change her forever, but never had she seen something so destructively beautiful to her as this sweet, paragon child, this child that should have been the ultimate promise and product of the love that ripped through her heart and seared in her veins, that pricked her every thought and stabbed with daggers of flame through her very heart. The child that should have been shared with her and the one true love that she would never have.
She knew that this child was everything she could ever have wanted. She had known her before she had even entered this world, her arms had been crafted by the gods to hold her within them, and her hands to fit hers with a perfection that none would ever be able to imitate. She was everything to her.
And she would never know her.
Nimiriel watched the child with streaming eyes as she danced along her merry way deeper into the woods, and knew she could not follow. She closed her eyes, as if to save herself from the knife-edged pain that seeing her drift away forever would bring. But she could hardly bring herself to open them again, and gaze out into that beauteous, empty forest, and know that somewhere out there, oblivious to the devotion that wracked his princess's heart, the only one she could ever love with such total and utter adoration went through the motions of his watch, as he had done countless hundreds of times before.
'Nimiriel.'
Her mother's voice came from behind her. Nimiriel gasped, and turned at once, ashamed to have been caught at her weakest, and ashamed for the thoughts that had caused her to feel so. Her cheeks burned with a scarlet flush, as she prayed her mother was unaware of her deepest desires, futile as she knew such hopes to be.
She met the azure eyes of her mother, the eyes that looked through her to her very heart of hearts, and found answers to silent questions there. Her mother's eyes softened and she held out her arms to her daughter.
'Oh, Nimiriel …' she breathed, but needed to say no more.
Her daughter fell to her knees before her, hands obscuring her face, as if in a prayer that they would somehow shroud the deepening hole in her heart, a lasting testament to the bitter-sweet reality of love unrequited.
/\/oOo\/\
A/N: Whoo. Wow, I must admit, I have no idea which frightening and dark recess of my brain this little piece flew from! I'm normally not good at serious stuff in the slightest. Granted, I have no idea if this was good or not (it could be purple to the point of violet for all I know) but it just flowed out of my in under fifteen minutes. Like it had been writing itself for weeks.
Nimiriel is a name I (shame on me) made up. It's after Galadriel (big surprise there) and Nimrodel, the river that flows through Lorien. I think 'miriel' means gem also, but that was unintentional.
Well, it's quite odd, but I sort of like it. I may do a few more about her if you guys like it. This is comepletely the product of reading Breaking Dawn and seeing that clip from The Return of the King when Arwen sees her son in the wood, whilst listening to 'The Man Who Can't Be Moved' by The Scripts.
AND VERY IMPORTANTLY! Just to clear it up, I am well aware that Galadriel only had one daugher, Celebrian, married Elrond, had Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen and was then attacked by Orcs and what-not, culminating in her leaving of Middle Earth. Bear with me here, people. Pretend she had a sister who remained in Lorien with her parents. PRETEND. ;)
Anyway. I hope you like it. Please review and tell me.
You didn't honestly hope I was going to leave that out, did you?
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings belongs to Tolkien, and what-have-you.
Edit: Wow, this is really rough! Eee! Not so sure about it any more. I may clean it up in the future. Anyway, Wraithlike out!