Daughter Of Lórien || Book 1||

Ch 28 ~ Homeward Bound

Its been a month. A month since my brothers left this realm in search of our mother. And not a whisper of their journey had returned to Mirkwood. My frustration has been growing with the passing days, tinged with worry and regret. Frustration with my father's command to remain here, frustration with my brothers for enforcing that order, but mostly frustration with myself. For letting them leave me here. For not putting up a better fight.

The feeling of regret has slowly begun to eat away at me as my days in the palace slowly evolve into a steady routine. Wake, train, eat, sleep. Nothing more to be done. I can feel the walls of the realm slowly beginning to close in around me, suffocating me. There is something about the forest that unsettles me. It can't be the difference between living in a forest rather than a valley like Rivendell, considering that Lothlórien is a forest as well and is practically my second home. Yet there is almost a sort of darkness in this forest that I can't seem to ignore.

I shake my head as I walk through the dim halls, making my way to my room to freshen up after training. Maybe I am just being paranoid. Perhaps being stuck here for a month is wearing me down.

I long for my home. The open air, wide fields, and faces of my family. I miss waking up to the sound of my sister's gentle voice, not the insistent ringing of the servant's bell. I miss training in the wide glades of the valley, and not the stuffy clearings of the forest. I miss the racing on horseback through the fields with my brothers, the crisp air whipping stray hairs out of my loosely braided hair, my mother not far behind us with her long, silver hair streaming behind her like a banner as she sprints after us on her chocolate-colored mare.

I smile tugs at the corners of my mouth at that thought, yet the deep ache that begins to spread in my chest quickly drops it.

And I miss her. Her guiding hands, hands that could be so gentle as she healed and yet as strong as iron as she trained. Her bright, sea-colored eyes that twinkled like the sun on water as she laughed and yet turn as dark and unforgiving as a storm in her anger. My mother, who had always taken time out of her busy schedule to make time for her children. All four of them. My mother, who was now lost, and scared, and-

I jolt, a shiver suddenly running down my spine.

Dead.

She could be dead.

Lost to us forever, somewhere in the cold, dark of the mountains.

I feel a numb, tingling sensation spread in my hand and look down to realize that consumed by my thoughts, I had subconsciously wrapped my training bindings around my hand so tightly that they now cut off the blood flow in my fingers.

I curse softly as I unravel them, growling in frustration as they tangle and knot and do not give way. I reach my room and slam the door shut, bindings swaying from my palms. Collapsing onto the carpeted floor, the slammed door still echoing in my head, I let the silence settle around me.

I need to do something. I need to get out.

I feel my frustration sputter and spark, and then a swift surge of anger flood my veins.

Ada forced me to stay here. Elrohir did nothing to stop it. And neither did I.

I let one chance pass me by. I will not do so again.

Making up my mind, I slowly stand, shaking off the bindings from my hands a steadily lifting my chin.

I am going to find my mother.

I am leaving Mirkwood.

~~~

Still dressed in my training leathers, I make my way through the palace, hurried, light footsteps echoing off the walls in my wake. Dinner will soon be served and with the cook and servants in a frenzy to prepare everything in time, I should have no trouble slipping into the kitchens and quickly swiping a few provisions. And then, with everyone asleep in a few hours, I would slip away. Asfaloth was already waiting in the stables, saddled and ready.