An Unexpected Love

NINETEEN

Navaheya sat sill, the only movements coming from her were her eyelids blinking and the movement of her chest as she breathed. The cool air that surrounded her blew her hair around her face. The seamstress sat outside the palace, in a rocky field, outside of Rivendell city for the first time since she had arrived there two and a half months prior.  A week before she had received a letter, given to her from Lord Elrond, that the Greenwood prince had written for her.

The former seamstress had yet to read the letter, yet she always kept it on her person, even if it was still sealed. The letter was thick and she wanted more than anything to open it and read every word on every single page. However, she hadn't mentally been able to open his letter yet.

Her anxiety was crippling, but she knew she had to accept the situation she was in before subjecting herself to potentially more pain. So instead of ripping open the letter that she played with in her hands, she watched the sun rise over the trees in the distance.

The dress she wore was green, a change from the black garments she had been wearing since her arrival in Imladris. She should have been wearing a cloak due to the cold temperatures and the spikey frost that coated the ground. But Navaheya wanted to feel the warmth of the sun on her pale skin as it rose.

She wanted to feel the light on her arms and face, she needed it. Navaheya was finally coming to terms with the fact that she would most likely never see Prince Thranduil again, her mother would die away from their home, and she would forever be missing the love she truly needed.

The seamstress had left the palace early in the morning, under the cover of darkness, leaving a rushed note on her pillow stating she had gone for a walk to not worry the dark-haired elvish lord when he came to wake her in the morning. He believed she was still in the same mental state she had been in when she arrived in his city. But, that couldn't be further from the truth.

Yes, she was still quiet, not speaking to anyone. Yes, she still wasn't eating much. And yes, she had been wearing and creating black clothing up until that very morning. However, she was now talking to her mother, instead of sitting there staring at her lying in the bed. She was sneaking down to the kitchens for nuts late in the night as a snack, she was sleeping better, and she was designing garments that weren't depressing in nature. Navaheya wasn't showing it much, but she was doing so much better than she was before.

As the sun rose, her thoughts were calm. She wasn't feeling crippling anxiety and shattering depression filling her entire body. The only troublesome feeling was that her limbs were beginning to become stiff due to the cold nipping at her skin. She didn't expect anyone to see her progress, as she had not shared her progress with anyone to begin with. It wasn't their business. It was hers.

After about an hour of sitting outside and watching the sunrise, she stood up from her spot on the frosty ground and walked back towards the secret entrance to the city. Navaheya wanted to be back in her room, or her mother's room before the entire city was awake and moving around. She was making progress, but she wanted to take her process one step at a time.

The guards at the back entrance nodded at her with small smiles as she entered back through the doors between them. Similarly to her time working within the walls of the Greenwood ELven Palace, the guards, and staff who lived and worked in Imladris could only express positive feelings about the young seamstress. Elves in Imladris were not as rash, or as oblivious about their surroundings and thought processes as the elves who resided in Greenwood. They all had observed the prince's and seamstress's love for each other as clear as day when they had traveled together, therefore, they all also say the heartbreak she was experiencing. Navaheya knew they tried not to give her looks of pity, but failed all the same. She was broken, she knew that, but she no longer wanted to be treated like she was. So as the silver-haired elf passed the guards, she winked at them with a small smile, a small show of her once normal sef to settle the stares that flowed through the halls. She trailed through the halls with her head held high towards her mother's room. She had begun sketching in her mother's room, just to be close to her.