Family

Born in the year 720 of the Second Age in a small settlement of her people near the western shores of Lake Nenuial. She is eldest of four children; having two sisters and her brother, the youngest. Their father is Curwe Limbetanwë ((S: Lintanor)) of the Noldor; a skilled craftsman of Nargothrond and Aerynbess Celebfindriel, a Telerin elleth of the elves of Doriath and Eglarest is their mother.

((The parchment this is written on is speckled with tear stains and even looks to have been lightly crumpled at one point.))

I write today to release much anger and hurt I feel now. Papa and Father have hurt me deeply because they do not understand… they just don’t.

"A lady walks gracefully, A lady does not scream or shout, she is patient and waits for the appropriate time to act." These words resounded in her mind as she awoke at dawn. Was she still the Lady that Rohan molded her to be? Did she ever meet such a standard? Those words in her mind once came from the lips of her own Mother. While Shield-Maidens were not necessarily forbidden in the land of her ancestors a Highborn's daughter was expected to embrace a specific type of femineity.

Syllea woke this particular day to Cat jumping on the bed and licking her face. She giggled and wrestled with him a bit on the bed, After sometime Syllea sat up and placed her feet on the cold tiled floor. She assumed no one was in the house besides her since no one ever seemed to be. Assuming this, she walked out of the room in her underclothes that she had slept in. As she walked to the kitchen Syllea heard some rustling in the kitchen.

(OOC Author's note: It has been brought to my attention that this story might possibly seem pointed, and even possibly at more than one person. I would like to assure anyone and everyone who reads this, that it is simply a piece of Berarna's backstory, and her view on it. My story has no target.)

The time had inevitably come where Daphne was leaving Esgaroth and heading home.

It had now been a few months since Daphne had arrived at the home of her mother's blood relatives, and she was becoming increasingly homesick. Her aunt Berarna knocked gently and entered her room as she was packing her belongings.

"Daph, what are you doing?" She crossed her arms and frowned at her niece, who was kneeling on the floor at the moment. "You're not leaving now?"

After Daphne first met her grandmother, the middle-aged woman insisted she stay with the family in their home. The house was very large and fairly lavish, but also held the whispers of memories of a time it had not been nearly so empty. Now, it only held Daph's grandmother, a few servants, a friend of her grandmother's and her Aunt Berarna, who was only around ten years older than Daphne herself and remained unmarried.