So many departures. They knew that this day would come, that they would have to be prepared. It still made her wonder, despite their training, were the Fountaineers ready for this? As she left the Pillar hall, her conversation with Tingruviel still rung in her ears.
Never before had she seen the lady Ambassador so stricken with sadness. She had stopped talking of the disappeared Celephindir long ago, Himwen realised. Perhaps it was because it hurt too much to fear that he was gone? No one knew where he was. Better to not think of him at all. Himwen, despite her irritation with the lord bannerman, hoped that for Tingruviel's sake, Glinthir and his investigation would find out his whereabouts.
And that Jarpr... Puzzled she stopped in her tracks outside the Fountain hall. Tingruviel had met him too, before herself, during the Pillar expedition to Thorin's hall. Himwen realised that from the descriptions all had given about this dwarf, he had indeed changed from being a young, happy go lucky spirit to something... darker. Having seen his companion plummet to his death at the hands of the Good Captain must have made a deep impression on him. For his sake, she hoped that he was well somewhere. Hopefully in the company of Celephindir. A dwarf and an elf. Together. What an odd idea.
Another thought struck her as she entered the halls to find the necessary items for travel. As she approached her own office up the stairs (another odd idea, she had an office now!) she remembered what this journey would mean to her, to her family. Was she ready for it... to see her father again?
Coming back from her thoughts, she looked out across the hall. It was unexpectedly quiet now. Ealendil, Manadhlaer and some others from her house had since the meeting wandered off to pack necessities. Earcalie had left to escort the Mithdirith out of the valley and across the Bruinen earlier the same evening. Amarthaniel had offered herself as a representative from the Arrow, and would ask captain Saranasse for leave to go with the troops. They were many and would have to travel fast to reach their destination.
Lorien. Himwen swallowed again. Her father might approve of her new standing in the house, but... to see his only daughter wandering around without a dress and in armour as well... she knew he would detest the idea.
Of course he had wanted her to join the flocks of flimsy ladies in their colorful gowns, playing silly music for their husbands and brothers all day. That was never anything for Himwen. His disappointment had been great and unfortunately only waned once she wed her beloved Tindir. Evidently her father had assumed that Tindir would demand that his wife stay at home and care for him. Hah! It had been one of the few times she had agreed to wear a dress herself, though to her own surprise, the idea had over time begun to grow on her. Perhaps marrying someone who loved her for who she was and moving away from her parents had given her the opportunity to not rebel all the time, like how she used to in her younger years.
Though Himwen's father had been rejecting her way of life, her mother had been quite accepting of her daughters feisty personality and celebrated the different aspects of Himwen's development during her early years. She was overjoyed however once Himwen had found Tindir. Upon seeing her daughter again those many years ago, she had revisited her own marriage day in her mind and had told both Himwen and Tindir all aspects of married life. Mostly the positive, as one would not want to ruin a newly wedded couples day.
It had been a wonderful reunion, until the eve they would leave for Imladris. She could still remember her fathers dire gaze upon her back as she had left them again. Left the security of the Golden Wood to serve a house far away. To do battle.
It had been Himwen's mother who had contacted Wenyalisse all those years ago. Himwen heard the tale for the first time as a married elleth the evening before embarking on the returning journey. Wenyalisse had grown up with Himwen's mother. They had been best friends from a very young age and to Himwen's astonishment, they had both trained with the spear. If Himwen's mother had not married her father, she had confessed, she would have been a spear maiden. It had been a struggle to leave everything behind, but with a spouse with a stronger will than her own, she had relented. A warm embrace later, she confessed that she was more proud of Himwen than ever before. That she went her own way and had found someone who accepted her willingness to fight for what was right. Glistening tears had fallen down both their cheeks as they said a silent prayer to Elbereth, that their beloved Wenyalisse was still alive in Middle Earth, fighting against the darkness.
A slam of the doors woke her from her day dream of times long past. It had been a dulled noise, made by someone in a room far down the corridor who was busy packing, no doubt. For a moment, she wondered about the new discoveries they had made recently. How the Mithdirith had nearly lost the bulk of their kinsmen. It was a loss too big to bear, and no wonder lady Lothoniel had been struck by sorrow. They were suredly back in Lindon by now, tending to a much emptier house. Many departures indeed.
