Of The Line Of Estelondo: Percival's Tale.

Chapter 20: At Last They Rest

Eventually, Rainëwen came to find him, and found him inside, holding the baby fox. Is he holding a skunk?  She had first thought when she saw the small black and white creature in his arms. "Métimfoa, I have gathered all of the wood we will require."

"Are you sure? It takes a lot of fuel to accomplish what we are trying to accomplish."

She smirked at his scepticism. "Well, I had two hours since we split up. Is your sister ready?"

"Not yet. I got a little bit distracted by this little fox." He tried to hold up the fox, but it began whimpering again, so he held it against his chest even tighter. "It is alright, Wiaion. I need you to go to Rainëwen now." The fox whimpered again but consented to being handed over as he then picked up the jug of oil, and set it on the bed. He wrapped the sheet around his sister as tightly, yet as gently and tenderly as he could, while still leaving her face uncovered. Then he took the jug of oil, and poured it over her, watching to make sure that the sheet was entirely soaked with the oil and herbs. Then he poured the rest of the oil mixture onto her forehead, saying "With this anointment, I send you at last to Mandos and his Golden Halls. Weep never more, and laugh forever. You deserve that much, at least."

He then picked up her corpse, which was lighter due to its hundred years of decomposition, and carried it out past Rainëwen, who watched wordlessly as he lay Orónëminya's corpse upon the pyre. The thinness of the blanket, and the darkness of her hair made every strand of her long dark hair visible underneath the sheet he had wrapped her in. Her overcloak covered up most of the sky blue robes she wore underneath it, yet he could not help but think of her abilities as an enchantress. She was so much more than that though. 

Métimafoa began to speak out loud, his voice directed toward his sister for the first time in a hundred years. "Orónëminya, I do not even know where to begin. How does one bid farewell to a sister, who they thought they would have the rest of time with? You taught me so much, in our time together, that I will forever be grateful for, but I still have so many questions. What do I tell our siblings? Where do I find the words to explain to them that our beloved sister is dead? If you were here, you would probably say something like 'Do not expect to find the words or to have them given to you. You must make your own words.' But sometimes, there are no good words. Sometimes, it is impossible to make a situation good, no matter how you phrase it. How do I tell them that it is my fault that you were shot because I went to return for Nolgaion? How can I explain to them that if I had been mere days faster at identifying the poison, you would still be here? How do I explain to them that I was more concerned with building a house than I was about spending our time together? What can I say, to justify the fact that I allowed your corpse to rot a mere mile away from where I have been for a hundred years?" He paused to take a breath and looked at her, his beloved sister, who had died for his sake. "I am so incredibly sorry, Orónëminya. I failed you. The fact that you lie here upon this wooden pyre is all my fault, and there are no words I can say that will change that. It should be me up there, not you. I should be dead, not you." He looked over the pyre toward the stream in the distance. "I should have died in that river."

That was the only warning he gave as he ran toward the stream, intent on jumping into it, but a blur of yellow from the side tackled him to the ground. For the next three minutes, Rainëwen let out a string of expletives that would have made the Tiefling God of Swearing turn his ears in shame. "You are the most selfish, foolish, and asinine elf that I have ever met, and my father ran away when I was three to join a literal travelling circus." She glared into his eyes, the blue glints in her grey pools reflecting the sunlight, making small bolts of lightning in her storm grey eyes. "You would try to end it all; after all everyone has done for you? How could you?"

But Métimafoa was equally enraged by her detainment of him. "I am alone, Rainëwen! Do you know what it is like, to lose the only one who you had left? To live as you watch all of those you love die? To know that every death that has been marked against your family was entirely your fault?"