I disclaim the characters and lands of JRR Tolkien. *sniffle*


Even now, with her spirit crying out for release, still she kept a tenuous hold on her being.

Her husband crouched over her; a desperate guardian against the darkening days. Always, when she had the strength to open her eyes, he was there, warding away the malevolent dreams. The healing of his beloved wife, his soulmate, was utmost in his heart and mind.
What oceans of blame would he lay upon himself, if she lacked the strength to go on?

Their daughter was with her, through dawn till dusk, and often through the long watches of the night.
If she despaired of the beauty of Middle-Earth, would her daughter wither and fade as well?

Both their sons rode with the Dunedain, determined to wreak their fury on those who had trespassed against their mother, descending into a spiral of mad self-destruction.
If the call of the West grew too great to resist, would the fragile hold on their sanity be shattered?

Imladris was strong. Imladris would endure her passing. She was but one elleth. One leaf on a tree. Her family could go on.

Yet every time her husband's despairing eyes met hers, every time her daughter caught hold of her hands as though to keep her from slipping away, every time her sons came back and she glimpsed past their crumbling façade of control…

Even now, with her spirit crying out for release, it was her family who needed her, her family who kept a tenuous hold on her being.


Thanks for reading; please review =]