I avoided Cirdan's gaze.
"Elrond, eat something."
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat."
"Drop it!" I snapped.
Cirdan shrugged, stood up from the table, and left. I buried my face in my hands. Ithilwen, Gil-galad's other surrogate child walked in tentatively. She bowed her head and sat at the table. I looked at her, smiling weakly. She had known Gil-galad longer than I had. He had raised her since she was three years old, and had been more of a father to her than her own had ever been. She was still incredibly pale, and her eyes were greatly dimmed of their usual jovial light. I looked at her critically. Her hair was also more of an ashen shade of its former cherry-brown color. It clung limply to her face, as if it were wet.
"Ithilwen, are you ill?" I asked. She certainly looked it.
"No. No I'm fine."
I tried to smile, but the heaviness on my mind impaired any joyful movement. "Look at you. You are a wreck. You don't eat, sleep, you haven't smiled or even tried to since I returned from Mordor, since Ereinion..."
I stopped myself, unable to finish my sentence. Saying it again would bring a closure that I wasn't sure if I was ready for. Cirdan mercifully broke the news to her, sparing me the pain of it, and I still hadn't accepted what I'd lost.
"I do the best I can, Peredhel."
I put my hand on hers, in what I hoped was an encouraging gesture. Tears leaked down her eyes.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you." She said hurriedly. She got up and fled the room.
"Elrond, eat something."
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat."
"Drop it!" I snapped.
Cirdan shrugged, stood up from the table, and left. I buried my face in my hands. Ithilwen, Gil-galad's other surrogate child walked in tentatively. She bowed her head and sat at the table. I looked at her, smiling weakly. She had known Gil-galad longer than I had. He had raised her since she was three years old, and had been more of a father to her than her own had ever been. She was still incredibly pale, and her eyes were greatly dimmed of their usual jovial light. I looked at her critically. Her hair was also more of an ashen shade of its former cherry-brown color. It clung limply to her face, as if it were wet.
"Ithilwen, are you ill?" I asked. She certainly looked it.
"No. No I'm fine."
I tried to smile, but the heaviness on my mind impaired any joyful movement. "Look at you. You are a wreck. You don't eat, sleep, you haven't smiled or even tried to since I returned from Mordor, since Ereinion..."
I stopped myself, unable to finish my sentence. Saying it again would bring a closure that I wasn't sure if I was ready for. Cirdan mercifully broke the news to her, sparing me the pain of it, and I still hadn't accepted what I'd lost.
"I do the best I can, Peredhel."
I put my hand on hers, in what I hoped was an encouraging gesture. Tears leaked down her eyes.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you." She said hurriedly. She got up and fled the room.
