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Chapter 25

Chapter 25

"I don't think...you understand me, but that's ok."

Nínimiel was sat up in an unfrequented flet. From it she could see the Pavilion, and the Fellowship. They couldn't see her, well she was sure Legolas could but he hadn't said anything.

She sat with her legs dangling over the edge, the squirrel in her lap.

"I...I think he is afraid. But it is unlike him to show fear as such."

"Of whom do you speak?"

The elleth yelped and nearly jumped off the flet in her surprise.

It was the Lord Celeborn. He had seen her.

"You need not be afraid. Tell me what it is that troubles you."

His voice was quiet, but no less regal, and he stood a little ways behind the elleth

Though everything about him screamed power, he seemed not as powerful as his Lady - though this is not necessarily a bad thing - and Nínimiel was not afraid.

She looked out at the pavilion once again, sighing when she saw them.

"Aragorn i eneth dîn."

The elleth was quiet for a moment, allowing Celeborn to interject if he so wished. But he did not, and he motioned for her to continue when she looked at him.

"Cenin… I know not how to... t-to say in the t-tongue of our...kin. I see… I see different." She chuckled nervously, it seemed she could not explain in Westron either. "The Grey Pilgrim did not die, though it seems...it seems he did to the others who saw. I did not see him die. My eyes did not tell me hope was lost, that was where our paths forked."

Nínimiel paused again as her mind replayed that moment, but slowly just to see if perhaps her eyes missed something. But alas, it was the same.

"He walks a new path now, but I hope his will cross...soon enough. Cross ours soon enough."

Celeborn had sat next to her, and it surprised her. Though as far as she remembered, she had little experience with royalty, it did not seem like a normal thing to do. If only she could read minds, then she'd know that he had sat beside her in an attempt to put her at ease. It worked.

From then on her speech was calmer, and she didn't feel so nervous, even though she did not know him.

She explained her sight to the best of her abilities, but unfortunately the Lord Celeborn could not provide answers, though he said that he would see what there was to be found in his library.

"I...I think we fear what we don't understand, Men especially. He is afraid of me...he fears what I see. But...not like him at all. Never has he feared me. Now...he lashes at me all the time, he is angry to hide fear."

The silence that descended lasted a while, and Nínimiel set the squirrel down, watching it scamper up into the tree. She didn't mind the quiet as her companion processed and pondered, and the elleth spent the time watching her friends.

They seemed a little more carefree today, their shoulders lighter, burdens lifted for but a moment. Everyone was still exhausted, and were taking full advantage of the abundance of food and baths and beds, but somewhere in between all that there was time for stories and jokes and small games. It was nice. And though she wished she could join them, it was clear at the moment, with Aragorn the way he was, it would not be so enjoyable for her. Nínimiel truly cared for him, but did not know how to fix what had broken - his faith in her.

"I think, perhaps, if you knew more about the way your eyes worked, you could explain what you saw. Though the only way to do that would be to return your memories to you."

"Y-You can do that?! Why do you have them and how do you know about them?"

The elleth stared hard at him, watching to see any signs of deceit and there were none.

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant! We don't have them, however we may be able to help. My Beloved spoke of your situation."

She deflated a little, not quite sure how to respond, but knowing they might help eased her worries a little.

But what if they were all as traumatic as the ones she had recovered thus far? What if they changed her? Nínimiel had no idea who she had been in her life pre-wandering, in her life before she woke in the lake. What if she didn't want to go back to being like that? And if her friends didn't like her as she had been long before she met them? Legolas might've been ok, as he seemed to have known her, but the others? There was no way to tell. What if remembering rendered her unfit to continue with the fellowship, or they didn't want her?

She was panicking.

Everything was spinning and pulsing and the air was too heavy, it was too hard to breathe. It was all too much. Too many thoughts too fast. All at once. Too much too many too fast.

It felt like she was falling, spinning and spinning and falling.

The elleth only wanted it all to stop.

The nausea set in very quickly. And it only worsened as the floor tipped up on its end. No one was there, the pavilion had vanished and she was falling through an endless sky.

_

Translations :

Aragorn i eneth dîn - his name is Aragorn - literally, I meant it as "it's Aragorn"

Cenin - I see