All Who Wander Are Not Lost

Chapter 10

"Grief never ends but it changes it's a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, but the price we pay for love." -Unknown

Returning to Imladris was a silent affair. All the siblings were dealing with the fact that they would never see their mother again until they felt the call of the sea. They would often wander the halls, eyes hollow of any feeling as they passed their mother's many haunts before her capture. They all avoided one another, trying to reason away what had happened, saying that is had all just been an awful dream that they just needed to wake up from. Arwen became silent, her laughter dried up, and she slipped into shadows. The twins were in open denial that their mother, their naneth had left them. They seldomly ate anything, they were shocked beyond what they could believe. But life slowly went on, though their hearts ached.

Hurrying from her room, Thennil raced through the halls, a piece of parchment held within her hand. A smile lit her face and her eyes sparkled with joy as she stumbled into the sitting room, laughter beginning to bubble out of her as she charged towards the chair by the window.

"Naneth! Aravorn's- her throat tightened as she surveyed the empty chair, which was covered in a small amount of dust. A wave of nausea washed over her as she remembered that her mother was not there to join in her excitement any longer. She began to tremble, her legs shaking as she slowly slid to the floor, crossing her arms over the seat of the chair, tears leaking out. There would be no tinkling laughter or tight hugs from those arms that she longed to be encompassed with. There would be no kind words and gentle encouragement, no shouts of surprise when she would sneak up on her mother.

The weight within her chest seemed to grow heavier with each passing day that she stayed within her home. She had not visited Aragost and his children, missing the many achievements of his oldest son, Aravorn, and how his daughter's had matured and learned things that she had wanted to teach them. She had not felt that she could abandon her family, not when the grief was so fresh within all of their minds. Her father had become more shut off, more serious than he had been. The laughter that had filled their halls had lessened, the faces of their people had grown more sorrowful as they grieved for their Lady. Her sister had become sober, the smile that had once reached her eyes now was a distant memory. She felt the change most within her brothers, and it was not a sadness, it was a loud, hot, seething anger. Their eyes flashed when they sparred, filled with malice and hate. Whenever a group of orcs passed anywhere close to the Hidden Valley they would disappear. When she entered the training field, and would begin to spar with them she could feel the anger radiate off them like a wave of immense hate. And she knew that they blamed her. That it was her fault.

Looking out the window that the chair faced, she watched the clouds roll across the sky as her heart clenched. The walls seemed to close in on her then. Her breath became ragged as she saw all of the memories that she had held on to flash before her eyes, when she had first learned to read, how she had learned to ride, when she had scraped her knee on the stones and her mother had bandaged it up, the soothing words that she had spoken when she felt down, the joy that had flashed in her mother's eyes when she watched her do something that she loved, and the pride that shown when she accomplished something that she had set her heart on. How she would take her in her arms when she was a frightened elfling when the thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed like a spear across the sky. The long hours spent learning how to sew, and the laughter that had filled the room when she had finished her first doll dress. The times that they would cuddle for long hours, reading stories from days gone by, or watching the rain fall softly onto the garden below her window. Taking walks down by the river, and talking about everything that had happened that week. Her heart physically ached as she remembered the soft hands that had been run through her hair on numerous occasions when she had cried because she had felt responsible for the deaths of those she had trained after a battle or skirmish, the words of love that were whispered into her ear when she needed them most. Every hall that she walked down brought forth memories that would leave her shaking, tears threatening to burst forth. The pain that she felt when she saw the way that her family went on was unbearable when she could have done something to prevent it. It was breaking her, tearing down the walls that she had built up to keep her emotions from showing.