Banishment- Chapter Two - Years without the Moon
'Luin, if you don't come back, by the Valar I'll go mad.' she whispered, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. Ri put her sword away and grabbed her bow, walking out into the sunshine, carefully watching for Thel, Ren, or Naurrís.
'Oh well. Soon. I know it has too be soon. Luin will come back and everything will be fine. I know it. He must come back!' She slipped out and found her secret practice grounds.
Swimming down a small stream, and then walking some distance into the woods could only reach her practice grounds. There was a clearing there, surrounded on three sides by rock. It was private, and useful. She took out her bow and an arrow, and aimed for one of the five trees that grew beyond the rocks. It hit it right in the center, where she had carved a target.
'Right in center. Much better than when Luin left.' She kept back the tears that had threatened to fall in the past twelve years. She stopped shooting, unable to concentrate. She swam back and dried off the shore-bank. After a few moments, she headed back to Imladris. That's when she knew something was wrong.
Naurrís was sitting in a chair, with Thel and Mithren next to her, staring at a worn letter.
'What's wrong?' Ri asked. No one answered. Mithren stood, and walked over to her younger sister.
'Riencuran, Adar has been killed, as has Luinithil. I'm sorry.' Ri stared at Ren. The older Elf put a comforting hand on Rien's shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
'No...Luin...' she whispered. 'No, it should only be Celebthoron who should be dead, not Luin...not Luin...'
'Rien! How can you say that about your father?' her sister asked, horrified. Rien didn't hear. She screamed, feeling not sorrow, but anger. She fell on the floor and beat it, cursing the Valar, cursing Iluvatar, and cursing the one that had brought down her brother. She got up, her gray eyes filled with a dangerous and wild flame, and ran out.
She ran to the stables, and jumped onto her black horse, Ránaraca, and rode away, her mind muddled. Luin. Dead. No. It couldn't be. He'd promised.
'Luin. You have to be alive. You have to be!' she whispered fiercely. She rode on blindly, and didn't see the low-hanging branch ahead. She was knocked off, and landed with a thud on the ground. Ránaraca stopped, and nudged her mistress, whickering. The black mare knelt, and flipped Rien onto her back. The horse then continued towards the place Rien had been thinking of. The south. Mordor.