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CHAPTER THREE- The Strength to See the Truth

Atara woke up. Now she finally had mustered the strength to go and see her sister. She walked with leaden feet, her usual light step weighed down by the grief that she was feeling. The tent where the dead were laid out was black, and as she entered she could feel the death and sorrow trying to consume her. Suddenly her eyes snapped over to a blanket with the emblem of her house emblazoned upon it. Slowly she approached, dreading that which was underneath it, not wanting to see it, to have such final proof that her beloved Menel-Ithil would never walk with her again.

Time seemed now to still around her. All that she could see was that blanket. She walked to it, bent down, and slowly pulled it back. Her hand shot to her mouth to cover her own scream of "NO!" Her eyes flashed wide open, and then her face clouded over. For under that blanket, as she knew there would be, was her sister, her face pale as the niphredil flower that grows in the Golden Wood, but marred by streaks of dirt and blood. Atara held in her sorrow and continued pulling the blanket down. She saw the deep puncture in Menel's chest, obviously from the fatal dagger's thrust. Her raiments were stained in may places with trails of dark blood. Atara recovered Menel-Ithil's body and said (have to change this, it's not right, it says 'may THEY find peace after death'...) "Hiro hyn hidh ab'wanath." Then she walked back to find solace with Elladan and Elrohir.

She wept again as she walked towards them. "I saw her. I saw my poor sister's body." she said in an anguished tone. Her face was twisted again, in sorrow and rage at the ill fortunes of her day. She was injured, why could she not have died? "It would have been simpler that way," she thought to herself. Her parents had disapproved of the sisters becoming Rangers...why then should they even mourn for her sister? Little did she know that they were already mourning. Atara's mother had a crow fly discreetly over the girls at all times. He had seen Menel fall and had immediately flown back to Mirkwood. He told Atara's parents within minutes of her knowing.

The brothers embraced her again. Too many thoughts to count were running through Elladan's mind. There had always been a deep connection between the four Elves, but always Elrohir and Atara had been very close, as had Elladan and Menel. Now their quartet was missing a member. Among other things, the four had loved to sing together. It was perfect, for Ataraastald had a high voice, Menel-Ithil's was medium, Elrohir had a wonderfully normal male voice, and Elladan's had a deep tone. They were much respected by those for whom they had performed. And, of course, their wonderful and harmonic voice relationships were wholly reflections of their actual lives. They all loved each other dearly, and they got along very well. Atara's parents had been close friends with Elrond and Celebrían when the children were born, and so they all became friends very early in life.