A/N: Warning! There is some descriptive violence towards the end of this chapter.
This Chapter is dedicated to Aunt Pat, Uncle Donald and Uncle Alex who left us in the summer of 2003 to be with the ancestors. Namarië!
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Chapter 33
Ninniach's Lament
Even the skies were overcast, grey and moisture laden as if they too, were in mourning for the passing of a friend. Long ages had it been that the old Maia, the one called Ninniach, had walked beneath the skies, tending to her children, not only at the bidding of the one who had sent her, but out of her own love for all things on Middle Earth that grew and flourished. Though every being knew, in their hearts, that death was not the end, rather, it was just another new road to travel, they could not help feeling sorrow for the loss of a friend, one who had guarded their reality and therefore their existence as fiercely as any warrior that had ever lived.
As the long line of mourners began to assemble outside the Last Homely House, their silence gave mute testimony to the heaviness of spirit they all were feeling. Finally, the doors opened and the Lord of Imladris walked into the open air. As he looked at the elves who had come to escort Ninniach's mortal remains to her final resting place, a tear, unashamedly rolled down his cheek.
Lord Elrond began the long walk to the tomb followed closely behind by the linen wrapped body of Ninniach, carried gently and tenderly by Elladan and Elrohir in the front, and Aragorn and Legolas in the back. Their burden was precious to them, and they walked slowly and with as much dignity as the old woman had shown in life.
Behind those who bore Ninniach's remains, Amrún walked, clinging to the arm of Glorfindel as if it were a lifeline. Though no one had ever heard the girl utter a word, her eyes spoke volumes of the sorrow that was tearing her heart in two. Even her escort, Glorfindel, and elf who had seen more and experienced more in both his long lives than was imaginable, was feeling the emotion of the moment. It was only through a great effort that he was not shedding the tears he felt in his own eyes for he knew he had to be strong for the young girl who was clinging to his arm.
Behind Amrún and Glorfindel walked the Honor Guard, the four Thurin Tirith warriors, resplendent in both uniform and carriage, who walked proudly, protectors one last time, of an old woman who had died for them all.
Gandalf the Grey and Radagast the Brown followed the Honor Guard as representatives of their race, as well as friends of the one taken from them. They were emotionally moved by the many elves who had gathered to show their respect and love for the one who was making her final journey.
Finally, after the two wizards had passed the gathered elves who had lined both sides of the path to the tombs, the long procession began as the mourners moved forward to follow, to help lay the old woman to rest.
Lord Elrond had not seen Anayah all morning and had even delayed the beginning of the final walk, in hopes that she would make an appearance. Finally, it could not be put off any longer and they had to leave without her.
As he led the long line of mourners around the last bend in the path that led to the tomb where the body would be buried, he saw her standing beside the open tomb with a fresh bouquet of yellow mountain daisies in her hands, a final gift from a friend to a friend.
Her raven hair that hung halfway to her knees was unbound yet undisturbed by the light breeze of the early morning. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed from the tears she had been shedding privately. Yet, at this moment, she was composed, and as the linen-wrapped body was laid on the bier at the tomb's entrance, she walked to the body and laid the daisies upon the linen wrapped hands.
She stepped back, then, and as the long line of mourners continued to arrive, she gave a last gift to the old woman as well as a gift of release to those whose hearts had been broken by her death - she sang.
(To be replaced in the near future)
Lord Elrond hung his head, his shoulders shaking from his silent sobbing. Gandalf laid a comforting arm on the Noldor Lord's shoulders, his own eyes brimming with his grief.
Though they tried their best to remain impassive, all four of those who had carried the bier were crying as well.
(Lyrics to be replaced in the near future)
Already the little glade was beginning to fill with elves clinging to one another in their grief. Though few had known the mortal form of Ninniach, every elf still knew her intimately, for she had been the very fabric of their world, her spirit a part of everything they knew and loved and in that respect, they knew her better than they knew themselves.
(Lyrics to be replaced in the near future.)
Now that all the elves of Imladris had arrived, they began to slowly file past Ninniach's linen-wrapped body as a last token of their respect, for they all knew the time was approaching when even her mortal remains would be lost to their minds and hearts for eternity.
(Lyrics to be replaced in the near future.)
There was a cry from overhead and when the elves and man looked to the skies, they saw Gwaihir, the Wind Lord, Landroval, his brother, and two of Gwaihir's vassals, circling slowly overhead in tribute to their departed friend. There were few hearts, in all of Middle Earth, that had not been touched by the old woman.
(Lyrics to be replaced in the near future.)
Downward the great eagles stooped, opening their great wings at the last moment to pass closely over the tomb.
(Lyrics to be replaced in the near future.)
After the last note of the last word of the song, had finished reverberating off the surrounding cliffs, the three young elves and human, placed the body inside the tomb. The door would be sealed later by stone smiths from Imladris who would also inscribe her name and tribute into the stone the door was made of.
Then, with the remembrances and tributes over, the mourners began to leave, for now, Ninniach would live on only in their hearts and no longer in their lives. As Gandalf walked past the old woman's final resting place on his way back to the Last Homely House, he paused, then spoke to her spirit.
"You did well old girl. Now it is time for you to rest."
He turned and walked away.
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More than one set of eyes was looking around for the young she-elf and more than one elf and man was beginning to worry about where she had disappeared to after her emotional tribute to her friend. Seeing Rahan and the other Guards looking around them as well, Aragorn decided to ask them if they knew where she had gone.
"Rahan."
"Yes Lord Aragorn. How may I assist you?"
"Do you know where Anayah went?"
"I have seen little of her since Lady Ninniach's death and I am beginning to worry about her."
"I think I may know where she is." The Mirkwood Prince, though loath to reveal his sources, had just finished inquiring of the trees and they, in turn, had told him where she had gone. "I will go talk to her and try and find out what is going on."
"We would appreciate it, young Prince, if you would please let us know when you find her."
With a bow to the four Guards and an understanding look exchanged with his friends, Legolas turned and walked away.
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The trees had been right when they had told the Prince that Anayah had taken her tears to the "great one," as they called it and as Legolas reached the small outcropping above the falls, he could plainly hear the sound of his friend's grief. It saddened him that she seemed to feel the only thing she could share her grief with was the powerful waterfall that cascaded into the river beneath it. He found her, curled into a ball on the soft grass at the feet of her stallion who nickered softly at the Prince's arrival. For a moment he paused and stroked the big animal's head, thanking him for being such a loyal friend and protecting his Lady in her time of sorrow.
Kneeling beside the sobbing she-elf, Legolas drew her into his arms and began to rock her, resting his cheek on the top of her head and whispering words of comfort, hoping to sooth her spirit. After a very long time, her sobs quieted and when he looked down, he saw that her eyes were closed, for she had finally succumbed to her exhaustion and had fallen asleep, though her breaths still hitched from the force of her grief.
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The sun had already begun its downward arc when the young she-elf's eyes again opened and when she looked up and saw the concerned yet smiling eyes of the Mirkwood Prince watching her carefully, she realized what she had done, and tried to jerk away only to find herself restrained by his strong yet gentle arms. Finally, after she had quit struggling and had relaxed, he released her.
"Are you sure you are ok now?" He asked her.
"Aye, I am, though I must apologize for my weakness." She answered softly.
"Weakness? What do you mean?" He knew what she meant but also understood her need to vocalize what she was feeling.
"It is not fitting for a warrior to allow their emotions to rule them in such a fashion and I am embarrassed that you found me so overcome. Legolas, you are a Prince, for Eru's sake, and should not be sitting on the grass comforting someone who cannot control themselves."
He frowned at her words then, locking eyes with her, counseled her.
"Anayah, your emotions are not a weakness but one of your greatest strengths and I am sure that, in time, you will come to understand this. I do not believe that right at this moment you understand how good it is for you to be able to grieve and that doing so cleanses your heart and spirit. You are young yet, but you will learn, over time, that though grief is a powerful emotion it is also a healthy one and it is ok, upon occasion, to experience it. I just want you to promise me one thing."
"And what is that?"
"The next time you feel overcome by what you are feeling, please promise that you will find someone to share your feelings with. I promise you that there will be no shortage of beings willing to share your burdens. Do you promise me this?"
He lifted her chin until she was forced to look at him.
"Do you promise me this?"
"Yes." She whispered quietly.
He stood then and extended a hand to help her up.
"Good. Now if your very large friend here will oblige us with a ride home, I think you should go get something to eat and then sleep, for you are exhausted."
As she started to protest, Legolas held up his hand.
"Hush now young one. I am your elder and know what would be best for you in these matters." He said with a wink.
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Night had fallen in the elven realm of Imladris and Elrond sat at the desk in his study, rubbing tired eyes and thinking over the events of the day. It had taken the combined efforts of he, his sons, Legolas, and the raised eyebrow and crossed arms of a very large Thurin Tirith Captain to get Anayah to eat a small bowl of soup then drink the sleeping draught that was given to her. Now, she finally slept, as did the rest of the household.
He began to feel uneasy, sensing that something, somewhere very near, was very wrong. His stomach began to churn as he felt the danger draw ever closer. Then, it seemed as if his whole being exploded as slimy ethereal tendrils suddenly invaded his mind, violating it, touching and searching without his permission, his innermost guarded secrets laid bare. He felt the lecherous grin of the creature as it explored his memories of his love with his wife, for nothing was secret or sacred to the creature with the glowing red eyes.
He fought the demon, slamming mental doors in its face, only to have them ripped apart as the thing slipped into the next chamber of his mind. Then he felt the ethereal grasp of the creature as it clung to him, dragging him down, violating every thought and feeling he had as it did so.
His mind screamed in its torment as it struggled valiantly to rid itself of the vile and torturous grip of the tendrils that had spread throughout his body, mind and spirit. Then his violated and defeated spirit folded in upon itself and lay quiet, too exhausted to carry the fight further. In the world outside his mind, the exhausted body of Lord Elrond Peredhel lay with his head resting on his arms, fast asleep.
TBC
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COMING NEXT: The Death of Innocence: Gandalf raised his staff and stepped back, waiting. Slowly, a red, amorphous substance started to rise from the unconscious elf, its glowing red eyes glaring malevolently at the grey wizard, then, with a high pitched shriek, it flew through the ceiling and disappeared from Imladris.
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Soccer-Bitch: Thanks for the review. Hope school is going ok for you now. I know how hectic school can get, especially with a heavy course load. I did it for one semester in college – carried 21 credit hours. But like Edgar Allen Poe wrote : "Nevermore!" Quoth the Raven.