Pleading and crying, Morinvala gasped quietly for rest. She had endured the cold silence for long enough, the stranger leading her through the pass, sometimes quickly as the familiar cries of Orcs gained upon them. Narmia slowed down the horse, and helped himself down, turning quickly; he lifted his hand and helped Morinvala down. All strength had left her and she collapsed beneath her tired legs staring tiredly ahead. The shadow of Hithaeglir towered around them; they had crossed through the mountains successfully. Glancing towards the bundle on his steed, and Morinvala, Narmia had thought to take her to Laurelindórenan, but his knowledge of the maiden was dim.
“Melywen-” He started, but Morinvala was on her feet, she crossed to the steed who snorted softly at her touch. Without an effort, Narmia watched as she pulled off the body and laid it on the ground, Morinvala dragged off the cloak, uncovering the mess to all eyes. Morinvala looked away, the memory of her dead lover echoing against her memory. Her hands trembled as she placed her palms upon the body; her eyes fell upon Narmia’s and for a moment, he saw deep into her soul, blackened with sorrow and loss. Narmia tore his gaze away and gasped at the immense heat that radiated from Morinvala, in a flash of fire, it was over. The body was gone; Morinvala lay bent over, gasping quickly.
* * * *
Morinvala wanted it over; to be rid of her love was less effort than to be rid of her own self. A thought struck her as she lay doubled over, regaining her lost strength. A new life, a new try. To not be trapped within the sorrowful Halls of Mandos forever, but to be reborn. She lifted her head warily to the stranger, and held out her hand, which he grasped gently and pulled her to her feet.
“What is your name?” He asked softly.
“I am-” she paused, “Kaladrin. Of Lindon.”
Narmia shook his head not satisfied, “You will not return unaided. I shall take you to Laurelindórenan, there we shall rest, and I will ride with you to return-“
“Nay, it is of no use. I wish not to return home, there is nothing for me there, not anymore.”
Narmia paused, to bring upon the subject of the missing body but knowing it would cause more damage to her current state of mind. Though, as he gazed upon her, she shifted slightly and moved away, he felt her weariness, and what he saw within her gazing eyes filled him with dread. Some evil had passed through her, leaving an echoing presence upon her.
“Do you wish to rest before we move?” He motioned towards his steed, which moved gracefully to his side. Morinvala nodded, that night, she had decided, she would no longer be Morinvala, Princess and heir of the Moriquendi and the destroyed city of Lothlann, and mother to the dead spawn of Melkor; but to be of Kaladrin of Lindon, mother of no one.
* * * *
Narmia offered to stay on guard, though the mountain pass was behind them, fear of Orcs and wolves still wandered through the realm. Morinvala settled herself upon the earthen ground, closing her eyes she breathed in deep, relaxing herself. She knew where to start what to do first. Her eyes opened, no longer tainted green, but satin red, power trickling behind the color. Every muscle at her command, seeing through a different perspective, she slowly stood. Morinvala made her to Narmia, who stood just ahead, his back turned to her. Narmia, feeling a presence behind him, turned, his eyes widened at the sight of the maiden. Morinvala lifted her hand and placed it gently on his forehead, whispering in the tongue of the Moriquendi, she poured her energy into him. Erasing his recent memory of her, changing everything he knew about those latest days.
Morinvala pulled away and Narmia crumpled to the ground. Morinvala stepped back and collapsed upon her knees. Her hands traced over her hair, the strands becoming no longer black, but of flaxen waves. Taking another breath she opened her mind to the loving memories of her family. Of smiling faces and joyful, haunting laughter. A last memory of herself, no more was she to be Morinvala. Closing her fiery eyes, she pressed her palms against her forehead and leaned over, the last memory of her mother’s smile before all went dark.
* * * *
A silvery voice sparked a light within her darkened world. She opened her eyes to the sturdy elf warden who had saved her only the day before. She smiled as he lifted his hand to her and helped her to her feet. Narmia’s smile slowly turned to a frown as he studied Kaladrin’s face. She felt his finger trace over her forehead, she gave a slight yelp as a searing pain fell over her.
“Sorry.” He whispered, “It is just-” He dropped his hand to his side, Kaladrin gazed questioningly. “A scar, there is a small scar… it was not there before.” Kaladrin frowned, and traced her own finger over her forehead, feeling the slight edges of a newly formed scar, and the same surging pain. A reminder, of who you used to be. An echo, a slight tremor of voiceless whispers echoing through her memory. Kaladrin closed her eyes, feeling that deep inside this was a new beginning, not knowing how, not knowing why, but it was.
Author’s Note: Yes! I finally completed this! *ahem* Anywho, I shall now be posting in the revamped sequel to this story that many of you may have already read, Dark Maiden of Lórien. Than, will come the sequel to that story, which I shall now start writing. Im glad that you all have enjoyed this story!