Disclaimer: Locations mentioned belong to the master, J.R.R. Tolkien. The character is mine. However, her name is derived from the Quenya language which also belongs to Tolkien.
Forgive me for the length of the chapters. I tend to favor short, emotionally-charged chapters over long, drawn-out ones. In my opinion, this just makes things easier to read.
Prologue
In the dark of evening, I wait. My hands held still, aching for the touch of a loved one, for the feel of soft green leaves. My lips quiver, parched with utter despair that comes with not having smiled in years. My throat burns with the pressure of trapped song, but no words will ever escape my lips again. As long as I retain the horror of my name, I can never speak. No word of mine will ever bring joy. No soft utterance will ever be whispered in the dark, for no ear will turn to catch it. I am death and pain. I am loss and misery. I am the weight of my past, the hurt of my future. I am nothing, no one. I am alone. I am lost.
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Once again, I apologize for the length of this chapter. The others will be somewhat longer.