Amongst the people of Middle Earth, none are as sensitive, arguably, than the elusive elves. Of course, there are exceptions, on both ends of the proverbial scale. War will do that, to even the bravest of souls. On one of the ends of the scales, was a relatively young soul by the name of Gliriel, which in her native tongue meant: Daughter of Song. Indeed, her voice was exquisite to the ear. And were it not for the painful shyness she possessed, more would probably have been enchanted by it. As it stood, though, they did not. But all of that was about to change. For Gliriel was on a journey, a journey to find her inner voice.
Pain, so profound it threatens to consume the soul, was filling her slowly. So often, her shyness got the better of her. Socializing was so much easier when Tinulos was still with her. Her sister possessed the right disposition. More often than not standing up for her younger, shy sister, protecting her. And in turn, Gliriel, with her eternal positive disposition, kept their moral high. Yes, they were a team. Inseparable since youth. Together, they had travelled far from their home in the Greenwood. Saw so many sighs. But all of that changed when Tinulos was gravely injured one day. Devastated, Gliriel was left behind without her sister, refusing stubbornly to travel West, in order to honour her sister’s soul and life-force. But she lacked her sister’s strength, and without strength, tenacity does not stand long…
“Oh Tinulos… how you would tease me… scold me even…” The beautiful, frail Eldar female whispered onto the breeze that gently drifted through the narrow paths of the homestead, as if it would carry her words to her beloved sister, her voice rich and melodic, and with none there to bear witness, there was no stutter in her voice.
Times had been difficult on her. She felt isolation, the invisible barrier of her painful shyness keeping her from approaching others as freely as she would like. And when attending meetings or social gatherings, she kept to the background, drawing attention only when lost in song of tale. And of late, that happened with less frequency. And so it had come to pass…
“How I wish… you were here… to offer advice… You'd declare me a fool…” A sigh escaped her full, cherry lips. “But I was so afraid… I know you would state I am being weak, but… You left… I do not wish to intrude on the life Athlidhrael has with her betrothed… And my situation prevents me from forming new bonds… There was just… him left. When he stated… he was leaving to die… I could not, would not… it was impossible to let him go without a fight. And that fight might now mean the end… Loneliness is one of our greatest enemies… Life without our kin is not worth thinking of… Without those I care about… I would rather not be at all…”
A confession that came from the very core of her being fed the feelings welling up within her. Bright eyes the colour of freshly cut emeralds peered up at the sky overhead, where stars shone magnificently, as involuntary tears riveted down her pale cheeks. Pain, that threatened to suffocate her caused turmoil in her very being.
Days had turned into weeks, weeks into months, as she sought fervently for him. Shores, caves, mountains, crevices… she had sought everywhere. To no avail.
She had brought in her friend, Athlidhrael, who, together with her extended menagerie, helped her search the river banks and beyond. And even between the two of them, and the animals, they had not found all that much to go on. A wild goose chase.
Now, the lady Yende had joined their search. A Noldo who seemed somewhat hostile to her, Gliriel found. She had understood, instantly, where this hostility came from, and it had shocked her somewhat. But that which would, under other circumstances, have caused her to retreat instantly in her shell of shyness, now gave her strength. What mattered, was the safe return of him whom she had sought all that time; Lord Arvaryar. She could go back to being the shy wallflower she was when he was saved. And time was running out.
Ancient runes, found in a cave, had been translated by the Dwarf who had witnessed the supposed demise of lord Arvaryar.
‘In your house, in your dreams, I will come to you, you who seeks me.’
The words had sounded strange, at first, almost as if written for her to find. And rekindled hope had lit a fire in her heart. She had sped back to her home, and had settled in her favoured chair when meditating. Due to the multitude of conflicting emotions, it had been hard to find the concentration. But eventually, the familiar feeling of free-falling into a different realm of consciousness had taken her in…
She felt herself being drawn from the house, and a rider passed, a tall, dark-haired warrior, on his way to the river. Urgently, she followed suit, and there she saw him. Standing at the riverbank, he turned as she approached, ethereal as many a soul in the realm of dreams through which the Eldar are reputed to travel. Upon her approach, he turned.
“You took so long, he was beginning to doubt you would come…” He spoke. He looked like Arvaryar, but… younger. It wouldn’t strike her until later.
“I.. I was b-blinded by s-sorrow… it t-took me time t-to find the message…” Even in the realm of dreams, her stutter got the better of her under the circumstances of heightened emotion.
The conversation of souls commenced, and he revealed to her, that he was uncertain if he would be able to return, what his true feelings were on the matter of her person. That his life force was dimming, and might soon fade altogether. In turn, she disclosed that were she able, she would offer her life force to save him, the words legends are made of. And she meant them, every single one, of such intensity was the fire that burned within her that she would forfeit her own life, if it meant he had a chance.
Then it happened… He was being awoken, and Gliriel instinctively knew, someone had found him. She knew who. Bringing herself back from the realm of dreams, she sat up in her wicker chair, and glanced instinctively to the nearest window. Darkness still held the world in its grip.
Waiting out the night would be the only possible option, and thus, with a heavy heart, she set to preparing her return to the Blue Mountain, where hopefully, a conclusion would come to the frightful ordeal.
