Surviving the Inferno - Battle Beneath the Trees

Surviving the Inferno

A/N: Short but hopefully decent. Written as an entry to The Battle Beneath the Trees contest by Stars_Alight. Thank you for your consideration.

For my regular readers, this IS canon for The Fëanoriel Chronicles. Enjoy!

Word count: 537

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She found it more and more difficult to sleep these days. Blending waking world and dream only resulted in the inferno returning to the forefront of her mind, a constant roar of yellow and red flames engulfing her beloved home. And so instead of sleep, she found herself sitting alone outside the great gates of Thranduil’s Halls. Night fell quickly, and the stars of Lady Elbereth brought some small comfort these days after the War of the Ring.

Nimwing stood from her spot against the rocks. Her white dress blew in the wind, and she shook her head to dislodge her blonde hair from her face. Her thoughts wandered to the discussion circulating the great Halls of Mirkwood. Legolas had returned but a week prior, and with him had come news of the reclamation of Ithilien and destruction of the Ring. He had proposed to his father to take those of Mirkwood’s people who wished to leave, and found a settlement in Southern Ithilien.

She placed a hand on a burned tree trunk. These trees had been her friends. Tears streamed down Nimwing's face as she tore her hand away and found it black with charred bark like charcoal. Her friends were dead, both the trees and the elves. In the days after the Battle Under the Trees, Nimwing found bodies everywhere. Carmegil, her mentor, insisted she look away after the fifteenth friend she’d found burned and broken on the forest floor. And he shied from nothing.

The devious orcs of the enemy took what she loved most, and Nimwing would not soon forget it. Between the nightmares and the anger, she knew the fire in the trees had kindled a fire in her heart. The desire to leave Mirkwood behind and see new lands caused a great turmoil in her. Most of Mirkwood Forest lay in ashes on the ground. What was left but pain here?

As she halted her walking, she came upon a burned clearing. In anger she picked up a tree branch that had escaped the conflagration and split it in two, splintering the wood. Sauron had caused so much pain to Middle Earth. Nimwing’s face grew hot. She flung the broken branch pieces far away with a shriek of pure emotion.

If Legolas would do as he spoke, she would follow him. Though sworn to protect her King till death, her spirit had perished in the orcs’ flames. All she wanted now, peace, seemed far out of reach. With Carmegil sailing West in the coming days, and Laswen her best friend already sworn to follow their prince, she would do the same.

Nimwing turned her eyes back to the forest. Blackened stumps and blood splattered trees met her gaze. It had not yet rained in Mirkwood since the battle three weeks prior. And so all stayed as is. The twigs and branches and leaves crunched beneath her soft footfalls. The open sky above, filled with stars, offered little guidance.

Instead, she looked to the flames. They would guide her now, both the old and the new. The inferno ingrained in her memories, and the spark forming in her chest, of a desire to see new lands and forget her hardships, drove her on.