As you'll know if you read my various other fics, nothing is being updated recently. Life has just caught up with me, and I have a lot to do. This means I have very little time to write. Novemeber is NaNoWriMo month, as well, so that will be hard. I am trying to, though, hence this chapter – written originally in pencil, while I was on the bus standing up and leaning against a window. It was 7:45 AM, so forgive any glaring errors :D
Hopefully things should be back to normal soon. Thanks for all your invaluable support – it really means so much to me.
I tried to upload this story ages ago. I only just realised it didn't… *abashed grin* sorry about that! I was wondering why none of you were reviewing chapter three…
Please review!
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'Anoniel?' asked Mithmír very softly.
A little look of sadness formed on the other Elves' faces. Tirathnavir reached out to clasp his love's hand in comfort, and Mithmír found herself wishing that Legolas was here to support her. Here to hold her hand through hard times and bad news.
'What?' she asked softly, unaware that her fingers gripped the chair so hard her knuckles were white. 'What's happened to Anoniel?' She had lost so much already, with her father dead and her mother bound to suicide after her wedding, that she could not believe Ilúvatar would be so cruel as to allow more bad luck to strike her.
'She is not hurt in body,' Haldir assured her quickly.
'And no great injury has come to her soul or mind,' Tirathnavir added in a slower voice, as if he dreaded the words he must speak. 'Though in deed she has suffered sorrow and tears, as have we.'
Dread grew in Mithmír like the spreading of the Black Breath. 'What sorrow?' she asked tentatively. 'Has some terror befallen Imladris? Is her husband well?'
'It is for the love of her mate Elardil that she is gone.' Tirathnavir's eyes did not meet Mithmír's, as if he were ashamed or perhaps maybe suffering to much pain to face another person.
'Gone?' the word was bitter in Mithmír's mouth and her eyes stung with tears. The two Elves on the bed were silent. She knew they could not bear to speak, and nor could even their eloquent tongues find the right words. They too had loved Anoniel, and for many centuries more than she. 'The Havens?' she asked when she was able.
Tirathnavir nodded very slowly. 'Elardil was wounded by an orc blade. He was to go West for healing. Anoniel went with her love when he Sailed.'
'She was loath to go without seeing you, Mithmír,' Haldir assured her in a quiet voice. 'She wept often and took days to make her choice… But she did what she had to, Mithmír, and what was best in the end, for her, for Elardil, for you, and for us. And she always said that she was sure you should follow her across the Sea, one day.'
Mithmír choked and a tear traversed its way down her cheek, mingling with rain drops and the dust of days' travel. She still hadn't washed. 'I don't know if I can…'
Tirathnavir straightened and brushed her tears away with the back of his smooth hand. 'You will one day, Mihtmír, when you are ready. We know this. In your heart, you know it. And I would guess that you have made such a promise to Legolas, though he would never hold you to it if you did not wish.'
His surety calmed her, and she nodded slightly. 'And you two? You shall Sail also?'
There was a long silence. Haldir and Tirathnavir looked not at her, and they clasped hands so tightly that it looked almost painful. Mithmír could feel the hurt and grief on the air, as tangible as all the Elves' emotions.
'You're staying, aren't you?' she asked in sudden comprehension. The words scared her even as they left company with her lips. 'The Golden Wood is too much your home to leave. You shall stay here and Fade…' she looked on their faces with concern. She could picture no fate more terrifying than to weaken slowly in the world till you were gone completely. A bravery to face such an end, even for a place she loved, was not in her, and she admired them as much as she felt grief. Her heart ached as she noticed that Haldir was crying silently. Perfect Elvish tears of fear and grief and pain tracked down his beautiful face. He was hauntingly beautiful as he rested there in his lover's arms.
'We shall never see the Land across the Sea,' nodded Tirathnavir, speaking quietly. He was more at terms with the fact that Haldir, who though he had made his choice was obviously scared by the full meaning of it. 'We shall stay here together, in this Wood our home, and Fade away.'
'Together,' Haldir repeated in an empty voice as another tear rippled down his smooth cheek. 'Together we Fade and are forgotten, till we are called to Mandos' Halls.'
And then Mithmír cried also, for she realized that her temporary parting from Anoniel could never be as painful as that from Tirathnavir and Haldir, for when Elves are gone to Mandos' Halls there shall be no second meeting, and friend shall never laugh again with friend under the bright starlight.