"He can ask no more of you Herufuin!"
"Gil-Galad is our king, Amarthwen. He can ask everything of me; you know this." Herufuin's fingers effortlessly pulled the taut horsetail string of his bow. The supple wood bent under the weight of his efforts, the soft red flesh having seen many wars in its long years under Herufuin's charge. Amarthwen watched the gilded handle of the bow as it caught every fleck of gold in the waning light of the evening sun. Her mind would give her no rest; she felt that Herufuin would not return from this war- not this time.
"Would you leave though it displeases me so?" He gave her a reproachful look.
"You speak as though I were abandoning you forever."
"What of my dreams?"
"Dreams do not foretell the future; I shall be ruled by no fate save that which I make. The Valar are ever watchful over their children. Send them your prayers and worry not for my safety." Sensing her emotions found no purchase, save upon tenterhooks, Herufuin touched his rough palm against the top of her hand, rubbing it soothingly. "Tell me, have I ever broken a promise to you before?" Tears fell unconscious down Amarthwen's face, mounting the crest of her cheek and sliding in wet rivers down the length of her neck.
"Never…" Her words were little more than a whisper as Herufuin drew her close. He smelled of the warm breezes which rolled inward from the Gulf of Lune. She burrowed her face into his soft clothes, inhaling every bit of air her lungs could bear. "I still ask you not to leave. I fear you shall not return."
"I promise to return. As the sun does constantly fall below the horizon, yet rise again unfailing, so shall I return to you. But for me, there is something you can do…" She breathed in shakily.
"What do you ask of me..?" Herufuin pressed his hands against her swollen belly, now a full eight months since conception. He traced his fingertips across the soft arch, feeling for a moment a swift nudge from his son.
"Send word- through whatever means, when he is born. I much desire to meet this fellow who has stolen my heart, and the heart of my Amarthwen." She gave a weak laugh and whispered an assent, allowing him to part from her side as he gathered together his remaining weapons: a long set of ebony-handled knives and a delicately wrapped set of arrows he had fashioned but a few weeks ago. His voice tried to sound hopeful; doubt and fear however, crept as thieves into his speech.
"The muster of Eriador shall not fail in its task; trust to hope, Amarthwen."
^
How often had my mind returned to how proud and noble Herufuin had looked upon the morn of his departure? His tall, fair visage undimmed by the dull rise of a red dawn; his long blond hair caught in the gentle warming breezes as he rode alongside his brethren, marching towards the south, marching towards war. He had turned but for a last glance at where I stood, and even now I could feel the warmth of his smile bathe me in serenity one last time.
One last time.
Had my feet carried me to the city gates again today? The distant crashing of waves upon the western shores of Lindon resonated within my ears with a terrible fury. How great was my longing to see those shores ere my last days upon Arda's soil. Fear felled even my greatest desires, for though my heart begged me to walk the seamless shores of white pearls beyond the borders of this world, I found I could not leave the ground upon which I had built my dreams nor depart the soil from which I had gathered the shards of my shattered hopes.
I could see the horizon, dotted with the distant shadows of ancient trees. The sunset of an autumn eve fell with passionate fires of crimson and gold, as a great artist had once spoken to me: "When they ask me "Of your creations, which is the finest? Which the most fair?" I find no answer, for with the effortless fall of Arien, Eru brings all things wrought by our hands to naught- for he is the master painter, sculptor;, visionary beyond even our immortal sight.". Each crevice of the land beneath my vantage had been bathed in a prism of colors falling away from the flaming orb as she made her way towards the sea and gave Tiliron leave for the night.
Sorrowfully I turned again towards the darkening city. Shadows filled the spaces of my mind and found niches aplenty in the deepening forest all about me. The unforgiving blackness of night was often my most voracious foe. He knew my fears.