Laer o Faen

Im Núro lín

A/N - Explicit content.

Third Age of Middle Earth - 2840

Êr pedo i beth ad na be iest lín, gwathan le an hidh o dû, dan natha sui gurth enni. Egor pedo manadh prestart aen, ad eno nín an le, ad pan i ngerin, pan im ego esteliatha na natha lín sui hae sui uir breniatha.

The unseasonal cool weather and stiff breezes gave an almost ominous quality to the first change in the forest mantle as Lavas settled its cloak around the landscape. Flowers had become fruits and berries, and the bushes and trees were laden with them.

"It will be a harsh winter," Nieniriathlim mused softly, but aloud.

"Yes, my lady," one of her maids answered, from where she hovered nearby to where, kneeling, Nieniriathlim drew her cloak more tightly about her shoulders. "Lady Nieniriathlim, if the air is too chill, we should return indoors. The king—"

"I will not have this garden see another autumn nor winter looking like a tangled wreck," she said – soft but firm. "King Thranduil does not need to be bothered by tales of a little cold causing me to tighten the cloak around my shoulders."

Defiant of her maids' worry, she leaned forward onto her hands and began plucking at the long dead leaves, tangled with the weeds that grew like unto a ball of yarn that had been set upon by a palace kitten. Her fingers worked lovingly to separate vine, from weed, from strangled plant and little by little, one slowly recovered inch at a time, Nieniriathlim began to clear the flower bed close by to a bench that felt so familiar to her – comfortable, yet at the same time...

A fist closed about her hair, jerking her head back painfully on her neck, and she responded with reflex amid the panic, to reach for the blade carried hidden within the folds of her gown, yet... even as she did, her unseen assailant hauled her painfully to her feet, snatching at her wrist.

Fingernails scraped cruelly at her soft skin, caught at the multi-stranded silver that graced her arm with the flash of starlight with each gesture she made, the tightness gave, and...

Nieniriathlim shivered, her fingers still within the loamy soil as she teased at the tube-like root of an insidious weed, tangled with a slender, harder strand. She frowned, and withdrew her fingers, reaching for a small trowel with which to ease back the soil still further and free the tuber, and whatever passenger it carried.

She took her time, her patience and curiosity vying for expression for she did not wish to damage whatever it was she had found, feeling around with her sensitive fingers as she teased it free; by touch identifying several small nodules. After many more, long minutes of working, her fingers beginning to ache, the deeply rooted plant came free, and with it the piece of a fine chain, which even though muddied with soil, still shone with a brightness enough to tease her grasp with light, and the gems which clung through time to the chain, were as the burning stars in the firmament, and warm as though some inner fire gave them life.

"Water," she murmured, for reason unknown to her, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. "Please... bring me water."

A maid rushed to obey; furnished Nieniriathlim with a shallow bowl, filled with clear water from the fountain nearby. She dropped the piece of chain and gemstones into it, and with meticulous attention, cleaned every piece of soil and the detritus, it seemed of centuries past, from chain and jewels alike.

When she was done, she lifted the fragment of jewelry from the water to dry it carefully upon the cloth that lay rested over the cloak covering her bended knees, and her heart pounded as the light of the late afternoon sun drew white fire from each gemstone that sat in her lap.