Death Is A Lie

Lithariel

I trudge along the trail, it's well worn paths being known to me. The rugged landscape of Udûn is lifeless and dull, and when compared to Nurn, which is lush and beautiful, it is even worse. It does me little comfort to think of the poor souls who once walked these paths. The outcast slaves are the ones I have little pity for, however. They knew what they were running into. I turn my gaze back on the Gravewalker, who stands behind me.

"Soon we must find shelter. The nightcrawlers are vicious, and they like the dark. I'm guessing you already knew that though." His eyes flash with surprise and he nods.

"Sorry, you caught me off guard there. Yes, the wastes of Udûn and Gorgoroth are not to traveled at night." He returns to looking to the side, whispering to the wraith. I would find it unnerving had my mother not been so ill.

"Here should be good." I say a few minutes later, looking at a clearing with a rock for shelter. I set up my tent and climb inside. Then I spread out my sleeping mat. "Care to join me?"

"No." I'm shocked at his blatant reply but stay silent as he continues. "I will watch the night. I do not need sleep nor rest. I would go on, but you are mortal, and I do not know these hills." He glances away, sadness shining in his grey-blue eyes.

"If that is your wish, so be it." I murmur, turning to go back inside.

"No, do not be upset, Lithariel. I am simply grieved." His voice calls me back outside where a fire begins to smolder. We must not have a roaring fire, but embers will do.

"Do you wish to speak of your sorrows? Sometimes it is speaking of that which wounds us that heals us." I reach out and touch his shoulder. He turns away, and I think he is abandoning me, when he speaks quietly and gravely.

"I had a wife, a son." This was known to me. I knew he had a family, and that the orcs killed them. But never had I heard such raw emotion. "My wife, you would have liked her, I think. Her name was Ioreth. She was...so beautiful. Her heart was so pure. She saved my life you know, in Gondor. I was to be executed for loving a Numenorean, such is the prejudice there. She saved me by revealing she was pregnant with our son Dirhael. Her father gave me his spot of the rangers of the black gate. I was simply exiled, and there Ioreth had our son. He was everything, handsome, strong, loyal. He was to become a ranger of the gate when-" he breaks off suddenly. "When the Hand slit his throat and bled him, as he did to my wife and to me."

"That is horrible. I knew that you had family on the Black Gate, but I never heard the full story." I well with sympathy, but try not to let him see it. He doesn't want it, I can see it.

"I've only seen one other woman since then, and that was Eryn, wife of Hirgon. But she was different from Ioreth. You, you have the same fire and determination. Every time I look at you I see her." He suddenly turns back to face me. "That is why I am so awkward around you, and saddened. It is my wife that I see looking back at me. Not you."