Almárëa

4

               Estel

Almárëa really did not sleep well throughout the night. In fact, she lay awake most of the night, afraid to sleep after the terrible nightmare that plagued her about her mother and stepfather's deaths .

Everything in the dream was pushed out of proportion. Their deaths looked more dramatic than it really had been.

Morning broke bright and beautiful with the Sun greeting her warmly through the open window of the room Lord Elrond had shown her to at bedtime.

" Elves do not need to sleep as much as we do, Almárëa," her mother once told her. She'd understood that she herself didn't count into that category because she slept as much as everyone else.

She sat on the wide windowsill, her heart aching at the memory of her mother's voice echoing in her mind.

That was all she will ever have now; an echo of a forever silent voice.

A tear slipped down her left cheek and she did not care to wipe it away. She let it drop down to her knees that were pulled up to her chest.

With the traveling to get to where she was now, she had no real time to grief the loss of her mother and stepfather.

Now that she was here, it seemed to try and pull her into the depths of despair. She did not want to go into those depths. She was afraid that she would never find the way out of it.

She missed her mother so very much.  The way she hugged her. The way she laughed. The goodnight butterfly kisses that warmed Almárëa's heart like the warmth of the Sun that now made her golden hair look like a crown of fine gold silk. Her mother's  floral scent. The rumbling beat of her heart when she held her close. Most of all Almárëa missed the love of her mother.

That love was something she could almost touch when she was little. It weaved around her like a blanket and held her securely in its safe embrace.

" I love you, My Alma," her mother used to say hundreds of times a day and Almárëa never grew tired of hearing it. 

"How much," she would ask and her mother's soft laughter would lift her heart and make it soar to the heavens above.

" As much as the tiny little lights in the sky," Nellrien would answer.

Almárëa smiled sadly at that memory. Oh yes, she truly does miss her mother.

There was a soft knock on the door of her room before it was pushed open and Lord Elrond strode in, a small smile on his ageless lips.

He was like her, this tall dark haired elf. He was half an elf and yet he chose immortality while his twin brother had chosen to be mortal.

He had told her that the previous evening. He has so many stories that she doubted she'll ever get to hear them all. Time was a strange thing. It ebbed and flowed in a never ending ocean, washing away many things that should have been remembered. She would've loved to hear all his stories.

" Good morning, Gwinig. I hope you have slept well?"

She climbed off of the windowsill without replying. He didn't look impatient or angry at that because he surely understood that she wasn't as talkative as many other children.

" Breakfast are almost ready. Eristien will be dressing you again today. I hope you don't mind."

He was talking to her like she was an adult. She appreciated it more than he'll ever know.

"I shall take my leave then. I will see you at breakfast." He bowed his head and left her alone to ponder on what he truly had come to her room for.

Was it only to say "Good morning" ? Should she have spoken to him?