continued from here
"I hope so," she said of returning to the North, wanting nothing more than to be on those fair lake shores. She almost wanted to smile at Elladan’s assuring words. Ever was he one to soothe troubles and unrest, and it had always endeared him to her. But she had been vague, and her words hid half truths long buried, and so despite his kindly meant words, they did not quite bring her the peace he sought to give, though he tried. This fate had been of her own making, despite how impossible it had seemed that it would pass; she would not regret the choices she had made that lead down this road. There was a ghost of a smile at her potential title, however. "Those days had formed us and given us life,” her words were nearly a whisper, spoken as they had been by her lover long ago, “but we will live that life, for all the good and ill it brings with it.”
But with the thought of a potential future, one of hope and yet hidden fear, so too did her mind turn to another- one that she very well might not see at all. So much had weighed on her mind these many months. and even before their company had left Rivendell, there had been little time to think, let alone process the thoughts and worries that warred within her. There was only the singular focus of traveling south with her kin, to fulfill a destiny long in the making, from the lips of a seer long ago- a standard borne aloft, and a message given and received. But there were no words now, no prophecies foretold to give her comfort or assurances.
It was the words of Halbarad, instead, that lingered heavily in her mind.
She had accepted her duty held the likelihood of death, long ago. And now at the end of all days, where so many had been lost, and hope seemed such a fragile thing, a part of her almost welcomed it: twined with fear and shame and grief all at once. ‘This is an evil door, and my death lies beyond it. I will dare to pass it nonetheless.’
Death, in the face of ones duties. Death, that had taken the lives of her kinsmen on this journey, those who would never live to see their sacrifices made. Death, that hung above them like the thick, acrid smoke of Mordor, threatening to choke out the stars that hung in the sky, one by one. Death, that had spared her, yet not her friends; their bodies left where they had been slain so cruelly, far from home, the blood on the walls and the floors glistening as the torches went out, and the war chants and cries of the dying filled her ears--
She swallowed thickly, forcing herself out of the memories she had tried so hard to shove down, a tightness in her chest that squeezed the breath from her. In that moment, it was as though in one night many years had fallen on her head. Grim was her face, grey-hued and weary.
“Elladan, I...” He had tried so hard to bring levity to her, and she almost did not have the heart to voice her question. He had spoken of the North, of home, and she turned to face him fully, gripping both her hands in his. “I have one last favor to ask of you.”
She saw it so clearly now: the swaying of the blossoming willow trees, their tendrils and leaves perfumed with the sweetest of scents. The sunlight dappled on the blue waters, glittering like a thousand gems as the waves lapped at the shore. The city she so dearly loved, in ruins yet no less beautiful; home, as it always would be. Where she belonged.
“If I should die tomorrow, or in this war--I want to be buried in Evendim.”
@mindsmade
