Fear

Istamírë sunk exhaustedly into a warm bath, the water fragrant with herbs designed to help her recover emotionally as well as physically. She leaned back gingerly, mindful of her newly healed back, and did her best not to think. It did not last long, for suddenly another was there with her, someone she knew intimately.

"Almaron!" she cried, sitting up quickly. She barely had enough time to pull her arms up to wrap them around his neck before he had pulled her into a crushing hug. She gasped as it pulled on her back. His arms instantly loosened.

"I'm sorry, my love," he murmured into her damp hair. She could feel him trembling, and she was too, she realized, with the backdraft of his emotions as their bond flared fully into life. Ebbing, but still very much present, was his desperate fear; growing stronger, his joy and relief that she was here, she was safe…

Something about that last emotion broke something inside of her, something she had been holding tightly in check, and suddenly she whimpered, burying her head in her husband's shoulder as fear suddenly enveloped her. Intensifying it was her uncertainty as to why it even existed: she had not been this frightened in front of Melkor himself!

"Easy, Istamírë," Námo said soothingly, laying a hand on her back. Istamírë realized Almaron must have called him.

"Almaron, help me get her out," Námo murmured, and together they lifted her from the bath, wrapping her in a towel. Istamírë never let go of Almaron. When she was settled, Námo simply pulled both of his Maiar to him, sandwiching Istamírë between them.

"It's alright, sweetheart," Námo said softly. "You were so very brave. You are feeling all the fear you refused to let yourself feel then. Let it out; don't bottle it up inside or it will destroy you."

Istamírë clung to them both, her only anchor as the wild storm of her emotions swirled. But slowly, they settled again, leaving her exhausted. Her grip loosened, but she cuddled closer as her eyes drifted shut in sleep. The last thing she heard was Námo's soft hummed lullaby, it's reassuring comfort bringing a small measure of the peace she had first lost at her capture returning to her heart.

When she woke, she was swaddled in warm blankets and rich pillows, all of which she recognized as her little sister's handy-work. Nyárë must have come while she was sleeping. But now Námo was the only other in the clearing. He was sitting next to her, his back against a tree, one leg drawn up. He had been staring up, a pensive expression on his face, but as Istamírë stirred, he looked down at her with a gentle smile.

"Are you finally awake then?" he asked her.

"How long have I been asleep?" Istamírë asked in confusion.

"For six revolutions of this planet," Námo replied. Istamírë blinked in shock. She had ever only slept for at most a half revolution, and usually less.

"As Estë would tell you, you slept that long to heal," Námo explained gently. "Your back, at the very least, should not give you any more problems." Istamírë experimentally stretched, pleased to find her lord correct as her muscles flexed without protest.

"As for what else your sleep was able to do for you…" Námo continued, "How do you feel?" Istamírë paused to consider her emotional state.

"Better, I think," she finally said. "I'm not scared…not right now. But there's still something…" she paused, trying to figure out how to articulate how she felt.

"Fragile," she finally decided was a good term for it. Námo watched her closely.

"That's only to be expected," he said. "Do you feel up to rejoining the others?"

"No!" Istamírë said instantly, as fear began to well up in her again at the thought. Námo instantly pulled Istamírë into his arms.

"Shh," he soothed softly, and Istamírë calmed again. She idly smoothed her fingers over the embroidery on her nightdress, remembering when her sister had gifted it to her. That memory held no fear, so why did the idea of seeing anyone other than Námo or Almaron hold such fear for her?

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know why I'm so frightened." She bit her lip. Surely she was stronger than this. She had responsibilities! There was no way she could lay here like a frightened child. She had to get up, be strong, take charge, pull Námo's people together again after the turmoil that would have surely occurred after her capture. That is what she should do; that was what Námo was counting on her to do as his chief Maia.

"It's alright, Istamírë," Námo reassured her. "You are still healing. It will take time." Frustration swelled. No, she didn't have time…

"What is it, Istamírë?" Námo asked her, sensing her distress. Istamírë shook her head.

"Istamírë," Námo said firmly.

"I can't…I can't be your chief Maia like this," she finally whispered brokenly.

"Oh sweetheart," Námo whispered, "I am not replacing you, my precious daughter. Do not even think it for a second. I cannot even imagine another in your place. You will heal. You will see. However long it takes…though I do not think it will truly take that much time. You will see."

"I think…I think what frightens me most…what if I had…" Istamírë trailed off.

"I would have never stopped loving you," Námo said with soft finality. "And I would have done whatever it took to bring you home. No matter how long it took. I would never leave you to the darkness."

Istamírë wrapped an arm around Námo's neck, buried her face, and wept, finding release in her tears and the soft hand that stroked her hair. Finally, her tears found an end, and she wiped her cheeks.

"Truthfully, Istamírë, I do not think I am ready to leave here and to rejoin the others either," Námo murmured to her. She looked up in confusion. Námo gave her a half-smile.

"I was frightened too," he murmured. Understanding dawned as Istamírë found the empathy in Námo's eyes. And that understanding brought peace: peace and patience. They both needed to heal from what Melkor had done to them—though that was thankfully far less than what might have been. But heal they would. Together.

So I originally wrote Loyalty Christmas of 2013. Now a year and half later, I finally find the inspiration to write the second bit...so yes, this is going to be a threeshot, for all of you that wanted it!