Dreams in Reverie
Through the perspiring fog she walked, alone, in death. it wrapped around her like a silk scarf, caressing her skin, her thoughts. From the parting air a figure approached silent and mournful, expressionless. He stopped, Morinvala paused, waiting. “The leaves have fallen, the grass has died. Winter of death is upon us, and all is night. He lives.” The voice, cold and daunting, drifted towards her. He stepped forward, raising his hand to her, answering her silent and pleading question. “I am You. You are Me. We are We. I live to see another day.” With his sharpened nail, he carved a wicked T into his palm. Morinvala raised her hand; her own blood fell from her palm, the letter carved thickly in the middle. “No… no!”
Morinvala thrashed awake, glancing around the shadowed room fearfully. Fresh tears ran down her damp cheeks as she traced her finger across her palm. A dream, it was a dream. But was it? Her fingers traced across a carved letter in her palm, healed and scarred.
“Morinvala-?” A voice, dreamy yet awake. Falasna. His warm hand ran over her arm, and she smiled down at him. “Is everything alright?” She lay back down, as he wraped his arms around her, “Yes,” she replied. “It was just a dream.”
* * * * * *
Morinvala stroked her long hair, clearing it of its morning gnarls, and stared thoughtfully into the mirror. She traced her hands over her skin, which was no longer tight and worn, but fresh and new. She had tried many times to forget the year before, to forget what had happened. But since that day, she had been plagued with those dreams, and she feared that they would be with her for the rest of her days. Falasna knew of these dreams, but did not ask what they contained, Morinvala loved him for this.
“Mela, are you ready?” Morinvala turned and smiled as Falasna entered the room, dressed in his finest robes. She replied only by taking his hand and allowing ihs kiss to envelop her. He pushed away a sliver of hair from her fair face, “We must depart now.” She wrapped her arm around his and they descended from the room. They were destined to Lothlórien that early morn, a message to be delivered to the King and Queen of the Galadhrim. Fear had drawn to the West, of a nameless shadow growing in the East, where an evil grew, and its hordes multiplied. Yet, the name of Galadriel stirred Morinvala’s memory, but she could not place it.
“Ah, I see that you are departing now.” Gil-Galad rang as the two elves entered into the sunlit courtyard. the king crossed the courtyard briskly, his robes caught in the morning breeze as they fell around him.
“I bid you farewell, and good luck.” He placed a light kiss on Morinvala’s cheek. “Thank you my lord.” Gil-Galad then grasped Falasna’s hand tightly, “Take care, and be wary of the Mountain pass, this age has brought much evil.” Morinvala took notice at the parchment that Gil-Galad handed to Falasna, and also of the ring that stood fixed upon his finger. She frowned slightly at it, she shivered slightly as a shimmer of force vibrated the air. “Morinvala?” She snapped her head up, “Yes… yes, I shall see you soon my lord.”
She lifted herself onto her golden mare, and Falasna onto his black steed. With a final farewell they departed from the safe borders of Lindon, a feeling of dread growing in Morinvala.
* * * * * *
Days passed quickly as the journey drew on, they only stopped for rest, and was wary of the shadowed lands. The anxiety within Morinvala grew with every stride of her mare, as they slowly drew near to Hithaeglir. She could no longer fall into reverie, for her dreams were different, horrible, more vivid. Orcs, in the Mountains. Slaying every being they came across. Thirsty for the blood of Elves. Morinvala could not say anything, no alarm she wished to fall upon Falasna. And yet, the day dawned in which the tall Mountains fell across the land, and the Mist loomed above.
“We shall cross the pass of the Caradhras, it will take longer to go around.”
As Falasna spoke those words Morinvala’s heart fell, she opened her mouth to retaliate, but no words came. Swallowing hard, she nodded her head and followed Falasna, reliving the dream of his slaying on the Mountain pass.