[Nerindel]

Vanwe

It was with a heavy heart and a strange sense of foreboding that Vanwe left Rivendell with the others. And even as they reached the eaves of the forest she turned in her saddle and looked back over the valley, silently wondering if she would ere return to walk in the gardens of her kin. But even as her eyes lifted and she looked further unto the west, she thought of her room, as modest as it was at forsaken inn and the friends she had made therein. It comforted her to know that they were safe, unmarred by the shadow of her mother. A smile as sweet and innocent as the morning dew played upon her lips as she turned thinking of the stable master tending his chores with his loose and easy whistle and the innkeeper and her ever welcoming countenance, even of cook the dowdy hobbit woman who often and anon complained that she did not eat enough she also thought on fondly.

Feeling her fathers gaze upon her, she turned and saw the warmth and affection that only a father has for his child when he perceives happiness in their face. “What fond memories doth bring so sweet a smile to my child’s fair features to chase away her bitter sorrows?” he asked as he came up beside her and for the first time since they meant Vanwe perceived that she saw the first hints of a genuine smile, not a weak smile borne out of sorrow or pity, but of affection and interested curiosity. She returned his smile and silently wondered if the warmth she now felt was what it felt like to be part of a family, did families share both happiness as well as sorrow? So eager was she to know her family she decided to open up to him. As they rode she recounted to him her time at the Inn and of the friendships she believed she had established as a member of it’s staff as short as that time was. But ere as she spoke the healer within her strove to draw out her father believing that if he to could remember happier times it may in some small way aid in the healing of his sorrows.


All went well as Menecin shared with her his time under the tutelage of Maglor, the greatest bard the elves have ever known he told her reminiscently. He spoke of names and places in a time long forgotten and not known to her but it mattered not! That he was sharing these things with her made her happy and while she kept on smiling Menecin continued to speak of such times, until eventually their talk came back to Naiore and the pain and hurt embroiled in her memory that neither one was yet ready to share and so a gloomy silence eventually ensued.

Is this the way it will always be? she thought miserably, will she always be a thorny wall between us preventing us to fully embrace each other? NO! she thought defiantly then turning to her father she spoke to him of her life in Harad, wither he would hear it or not! But in none of her recount did she seem bitter to toward her warders, “fear controlled their actions, fear of Naiore and fear of what they could not understand,” she told him seeing the hint of anger burning in his eyes. Then pulling the small piece of twisted leather from her pouch she held it out for him to see, I have carried this as a reminder of what lay behind a reminder to always look forward, but look now my mothers golden strands have become entwined with the reminder of that prison which she construed, a bitter irony don’t you think? But still their was no bitterness in her words only sorrow.

As she returned the leather to her pouch, her father spoke, soft and gentle were his words, “You are a stronger person than myself, to forgive such wrongs and stronger yet in mind than perhaps even your mother perceives, this may yet aid you my child, but yet be cautious for our hearts can sometimes betray us!” then lowering his head he rode on to speak with Amandur.

She sighed deeply shaking her head sadly. “Will he ever find peace?” she whispered as Léspheria’s white mare drew up beside her. “I don’t know?” Léspheria replied sympathetically “but that doesn’t mean you have to give up trying,” she smiled encouragingly. Vanwe nodded as she stare at the weary hunch of her father shoulders, so heavy with burden that she would eagerly lift for him if he would just let her.

Suddenly Léspheria stopped her body suddenly erect, her head turning slowly, listening! Vanwe thought as she too reigned her mount and strained her ears.

“What is it?” Amandur called noting their halt.

“A horse!” Vanwe suddenly cried recognising the clip clop of hoofs upon the soft snap of dried twigs.

“One and riderless,” Léspheria added. Amandur nodded as if a silent conversation had passed between them, then he rode off in the direction Léspheria indicated the sound was coming from leaving Vanwe and the others to anxiously await his return.