Middle Earth Gamer

Five Years After Aredhel's Departure

he Shire, a peaceful haven tucked away in the corner of Middle-earth, was as beautiful as ever. But for Taranis, it felt a little quieter, a little lonelier these days. The sun still rose over the rolling hills, and the birds still chirped their merry songs, but something was missing. Something—or rather, someone.

Aredhel had left five years ago, just as suddenly as she had arrived in Taranis's life. At first, he hadn't realized how much her presence had meant to him, how her laughter had brought warmth to his heart and her gentle guidance had steadied him in ways he never expected. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the absence of her became more palpable.

She had left without warning, with a simple note, one that had broken his heart in a way he couldn't have predicted. He had never asked her to stay, never demanded anything of her, but he hadn't expected her to leave without a trace either. The note she had left, written in elegant elvish script, was brief, but its words echoed in his mind with a pain he couldn't ignore.

*My dear Taranis,

I must return to Mirkwood. My people need me, and my heart calls me home. You will always have a place in my memories, and though our paths may diverge, know that I will carry the time we shared with me always.

Farewell, my love.*

Taranis had read those words over and over, each time trying to make sense of them, trying to understand why she had gone, why she had left him behind. He had never truly confessed his feelings for her, never told her how much she had come to mean to him, and now, with her gone, it was too late. He had tried to move on—tried to fill the hole she had left behind with the simple routines of life in the Shire—but it hadn't worked. Every corner of his house, every quiet walk through the hills, reminded him of her absence.

And every night, as the stars twinkled above the quiet Shire, he would lie awake, thinking of her, wondering if she ever thought of him.

Taranis sat on the porch of his small cottage, staring out at the sunset as the orange and pink hues painted the sky. It had been years since he had seen Aredhel, and yet, her memory was still as vivid as ever. He could still hear her laughter, still see the way her eyes would light up when she spoke about the world beyond Mirkwood.

In those five years they had spent together, he had come to care for her more deeply than he had ever realized. They had talked about everything, from their adventures to their hopes and fears. Aredhel had become not just a friend, but someone he trusted with his heart. She had been the first person to truly see past the walls he had built around himself, the first person to make him believe that he was worthy of love and connection.

And now, she was gone.

Taranis's hand clenched around the mug of tea in his hands, the warmth of it offering little comfort against the cold emptiness in his chest. He had known, deep down, that she would leave one day. She was of Mirkwood, an elf with a duty to her people. But he had never imagined it would hurt this much.

There were days when he thought he could move on—when he told himself that it had been a brief chapter in his life, and that it was time to let it go. But then there were nights like this, when the silence of his small cottage was overwhelming, and the only thing he could think about was her.

"Taranis?"

The familiar voice cut through the quiet, and he looked up to see Frodo Baggins standing in the doorway of the house. Frodo had become a close friend during the years Taranis had lived in the Shire, someone who had listened to his stories, shared in his victories, and supported him through his hardest times.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," Frodo said, stepping into the room. "But I thought you might want to join me for a walk."

Taranis forced a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'd like that, Frodo. I could use the company."

As they walked through the Shire, the familiar landscape stretched out before them—the quiet fields, the distant hills, the rows of hobbit holes nestled in the earth. But Taranis's thoughts were elsewhere, still lost in the past. The beauty of the Shire didn't seem to match the heaviness in his heart, the gnawing sadness that had taken root there since Aredhel left.

"So, how have you been, Taranis?" Frodo asked after a few moments, his voice soft but probing. "You've been distant lately. Is everything alright?"

Taranis sighed, glancing at the young hobbit beside him. Frodo had always been perceptive, and it was no use pretending. "I'm just... I don't know, Frodo. I've been struggling. It's been five years since she left, and sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get over it."

"Her?" Frodo asked, raising an eyebrow. "Aredhel?"

Taranis nodded, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "She was... everything, Frodo. And now she's gone. I didn't realize how much she meant to me until she left. I didn't tell her how I felt, and now it's too late."

Frodo was quiet for a moment, seemingly weighing his words before speaking. "I know it's hard, Taranis. I do. But you can't live in the past. You have to move forward, even if it means letting go of something you once wanted."

Taranis stopped walking, turning to face Frodo. The words stung more than he expected, but they weren't wrong. He knew that deep down. "I don't know if I can. Every day, I wake up and I think of her. The house feels empty without her laughter, without her presence. I miss her so much, Frodo. I don't think I'll ever stop missing her."

Frodo placed a hand on his shoulder, offering a comforting smile. "You won't forget her, Taranis. But life moves on. You can keep her memory close to your heart, but you have to let the rest of it go. There's a whole world out there. You can't spend all your time looking back."

Taranis didn't answer right away, instead taking a deep breath and looking up at the sky. The stars were beginning to twinkle in the distance, and he realized that Frodo was right. He had spent so much time focused on the past, so much time trying to hold on to something that was never meant to stay, that he had forgotten to look ahead.

"I suppose you're right," Taranis said finally, his voice soft. "I don't want to live in the shadow of my memories forever. I have to let go."

Frodo smiled, his eyes full of understanding. "That's the first step, Taranis. And you don't have to do it alone. We're here for you."

The two of them continued their walk, the silence between them comfortable, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Taranis felt a sense of relief—just a little—like the burden he had been carrying had been lifted, even if only slightly.

A few hours later, Taranis returned to his home, the warmth of the evening and Frodo's words still in his heart. He walked inside and glanced around. The house was quiet, as it always was now. A part of him had feared it would always feel empty without Aredhel, but the truth was that he had begun to fill that emptiness with other things—his friendships, his work, and his own personal healing. He would never forget her, but he could move on.

As he sat down in front of the fireplace, staring into the dancing flames, Taranis made a silent vow to himself. He would keep Aredhel in his heart always, but he would also open himself to the possibility of new beginnings. The past would remain with him, but it would not control him.

And with that, he allowed himself a small, fleeting smile. He was ready to keep moving forward.