Shadows and starlight mingle as one. I know it is not only I who thrills in Tilion's, the Maia of Ithil, coming. Darkness spreads his nimble fingers through the valleys, ravines and all paths. With uncertain pace, as ever was and ever shall be, Ithil, soft and glorious with luminous beauty, appears from behind the sailing ships of cloud. His light is lesser than that of Anor, but no less beautiful is in the eyes of the Elves. Ithil in all his luminous splendour is the sign to me, to us, that whilst his light still remains, there is still some good left in this world. Evil will not prevail over us in the end. Aman will not fade. But I now I begin to wonder just how true this promise of the moon is.
For am I not fading?
Another day passes, the sun sets and the moon rises. Another day of my world weary life passes and his filled with happiness and joy, a blessing that can only be felt by a mother. Another day of my world weary life also passes with the hidden pain and sorrow, a burden of the past shadows that still exists with in me. The pain that can only be felt by one who has lost and is lost to lobed companions due to misfortune.
For where now is Nimrodel and Amroth? Lost they seem, but they still exist within my heart as tearful memories.
The shadow of wondering of the existence of my friend and lady still exists within me. Despite all the joy you have so generously given me, all the love that you have shared, you still will not see it. Are oblivious to this shadow. And I know that you cannot erase it. How ever could such an anxiety be removed from one's heart?
Amroth is gone, or so it is said, but still Nimrodel's account is untold. Could it be that she too has been lost, in the White Mountains where we had parted? Or is it by chance that she found a ship that would bear her to the West. Is her tale finished? Is that she was never to be reunited with her beloved Amroth her final fate?
And what of my tale and fate?
Is my ending to be here, in the forests of Belfalas with you, Imraz˘r, to be the mother of our two darling children? Is it to be that I shall never see the shores of fair EressŰa or the beauty of Nimrodel's face? Will I ever be at peace within? Will there be no white ship to bear me West?
So many questions Imraz˘r, so many thoughts and anxieties. You hear none of them, for they are all within my heart, a place so deep that even you cannot reach. You lie in your child-like sleep next to me, without a clue that I am in emotional torment. You are so beautifully oblivious to my silent grief.
I take my eyes off the ceiling and turn my head to you. Indeed you are asleep, calm and serene without a care in the world, an image of what Galador will look when he has grown to his full stature.
How is it I feel as such when I have a wonderful husband as you? After all that you have done for me alas it seems that it is not enough to render the disquiet in myself.
To what cost would I pay to have the disquiet vanquished?
I see my option but dare I take it? Dare I break many hearts and bonds just for my own personal concord? Dare I leave my darling Galador and sweet Gilmith motherless and you without a wife so I may find my rest in the West? So that I may have the ending to my tale? So that I may possible see Nimrodel again?
You are asleep and you do not see the questions that face me. You do not see the heart breaking decisions that I must face, alone, for you and our children would never be allowed admittance as mortals. You do not see how much of a burden I shall place upon your shoulders as a sorrowful, fading, dieing wife in the years to come. You do not see the reasons why my choice has been made and why I hold true to it. You will not understand that I love and our children more than the fair Mellyrn that grown in the woods of my home.
You will not understand because you do not see my pain.
And so it is with tear filled eyes and a heavy heart I take my bag which has long been packed and hidden from your eyes. You sleep and I kiss your brow, but you neither hear, feel or see me. It is worse that you do not see me leave than if you did.
Quieter than the leaves falling in Iavas I leave our bedchambers and go slowly towards the two rooms in the house than I could not bare to see before leaving.
I open the door to the first and walk in slowly. Silently do the tears falls from my eyes as I watch our son slowly breathe in and out, his eyes wide shut and his small fingers clutching tightly to his chest a doll of a N˙menorean soldier. I see your face in his, even as he sleeps with your eyes closed under his lashes. I will see your face in his for as long as my life lasts, for I shall never forget the face of my dear first born.
His room is scattered with the toys he had been playing with this evening, though he knows that he is to keep his toys in his toy room. I clear some of the toys away from the side of his bed, so that in the morning he shall not trip and fall, and search for something, anything that I could treasure that he would not remember. A small white wooden marble ball comes into my hand. A whole collection of different colours does Galador have, which he trades with the other children in Belfalas. I slip it into my bag and kiss his forehead gently, a single tear of mine falling upon his pillow.
I leave his room and walk across the hall to his younger sister's room. Inside the room it smells like the trees and sweet smelling flowers of the forest. I look to the table and find a new pile of pine cones and flowers which our darling daughter collected this afternoon, another basketful to add to her "treasures". She has the same likings as me.
She too is asleep, as everyone else in our household. The blanket is on the ground beside her bed and she is curled into a ball. I pick the blanket up from the floor and gently put it over her. A gold hairpiece in resemblance of a flower is still in her hair. A small frown is on her little eyebrows as it digs into her little head. I carefully slide it out of her air so she is able to sleep peacefully.
Even if I cannot sleep peacefully I will make sure that our children are able to.
I kiss our little daughter, only of few years of age, on her cheek, slipping my finger out of her small squeezing hand and slipping the golden hair piece in my bag so that I may have something of her belonging as well. She sighs my name and turns over. She is young and will wake up to find me in the morning, but I shan't be there.
Not as quiet as I had left our bedchambers, as I am now crying, I return to blow out the candle I had lighted, whilst fetching my bag. I blow it and there is no light in the house, save that of Ithil and the stars. I leave a brooch, carved of wood in the shape of an elanor, a flower from my homeland, upon my pillow and with one last look at you, I leave.
Alas! For the woods and bays of Belfalas, neither the love of a husband nor two children are able to quieten the heart of Mithrellas. But another day has passed. The Sun has set and the Moon, my Sun, has come out. Soon it shall vanish with the stars, as soon enough I shall fade. Dawn shall arrive with the promise of a new day, a new time, a new life for you, our children and all the Mortals. Dusk shan't come with the knowledge that the time of my people will fade.
But no matter dawn or dusk, know that I still love you.
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