To Live Again: The Road to War {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}|

Dagorlad: Part II

The Woodland Realm: Greenwood Orchids. SA 3434

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{Clara POV}

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The sun is low in the sky as I watch it through squinted eyes, shielding them with my raised hand. The days have been long, and the nights longer and I think I am beginning to feel the weariness set in now. I clutch the wicker basket tightly in my arms, it is heavily laden with more apples than I can easily carry but I have to try. Our numbers are barely a fifth of what they normally are; there are not enough bodies in the fields and orchids to carry out the harvest. Yet we try our best, with our small but rather formidable force of farm labourers, healers, lords and ladies of the court, and the odd handful of determined little elflings.

Speaking of said little elflings, I twist around to seek out my children who mercifully have been exceptionally good in understanding that everyone, including Nana, has to help with the endless task of harvesting. Legolas in particular, has taken his role as protector of the family very seriously and presently insists on escorting his little sister everywhere. I chuckle at the warm sight of them huddled under an apple tree, with Legolas fussing over Celairiel as she tries to pick too many apples off the ground at once. My face falls a little though, for he is so young and this is an incredible burden to put upon him. He puts on such a brave and determined face that sometimes I forget how worried he must be. Sometimes I sit and watch him sleep at night, and I know he has nightmares, he is restless and like me, the strain of the separation from his father is beginning to show. I have noticed how he stays close with me and his sister, he takes it upon himself to enquire as to my wellbeing every day, and he vainly tries to make me smile or laugh if he senses I am particularly sad. In realizing this I have tried to ensure that I do not show too many of my unpredictable emotions in front of both he and Celairiel, I save my tears and worries for the nights I lie awake behind closed doors. I am first and foremost their mother, and it is not their job to care or worry over me.

Sighing at the endless guilt that swirls around in my already tormented mind, I carefully pick my way back towards the stretch of wagons and clusters of elves working on sifting through the produce. Smiling tiredly at a very familiar elleth, I drop the heavy basket to the ground with a grunt, and then straighten up to rub the dirt from my sleeves;

"I think you should call it a day my lady," Gilron murmurs, as she lifts her sad grey eyes to meet mine. "You have been out in the fields and the orchids since before dawn, the little ones will be getting hungry soon, and you have not slept in well over a month."

"You never miss a beat," I grin and tiredly rub my forehead with the back of my hand. Gilron chuckles and shakes her head, returning to her task of stitching up cloth sacks for the harvested fruit to be stored in. "What about you, hm? Are you still taking those tonics I sent you?"

"It is grief that keeps me awake Clara, no amount of sleeping tonics will bring my mind any ease," She sighs and tsks, patting the ground beside her as a gesture for me to sit, which I do without complaint. I can't remember the last time I took the weight off my feet today. "But it is getting easier, and knowing that you fuss over me so helps an old lady remember that there are others who still need her around."

"You are very much needed," I assure the elleth that feels like family to me, and I reach out to squeeze her shoulder just to prove my point.

"Tell me," Gilron begins, as she sets down her needles, and eyes me curiously; "have you communed anymore with Thranduil since the night you felt his distress?"