[piosenniel]

Will Witfoot's post

The light of the morning sun gilded the scented garden's of the hidden valley, Imladris, and radiated from the robes of a lonely figure seated under a tree, making him appear as made of light himself. Then the wind granted the gardens it's chill kiss and the figure drew it's grey cloak around itself, dimming the light, and revealling a lithe, gaunt elf staring thoughtfully into the waters of the river Loudwater flowing past Rivendel, the Last Homely House East of the Sea.

Cerímb watched her son, her only child, sitting all alone with the same air of melancholy around him that had marked his life since he was born. When not practising with the sword or poring over the many tomes of the libraries, he could be found seated deep in thought, usually as far away from others as possible. Few were those whose company could provide him with any joy.
Desspite all the years of having to live with the knowledge of her son's dissability, Cerímb could not stop a tear from trickling onto her cheek.
As if sensing the presence of his mother, Eldín turned. Seeing her standing there, he got up from where he had been sitting, his cloak oppening to reveal an elegant blade seathed by his side. Realizing that his mother was crying Eldín embraced her, gently wiping away the tears that fell silently to Cerímb's cheek's.

'Is it time?' Eldín asked, using the peculiar mode of communicating through gestures that he had been taught since he was a small child.

Cerímb nodded. 'Yes, Arathorn is leaving. They will be waiting for you.' She knew that her son could read her lips, but she preffered using the same way of communication that Eldín himself used, when conversing with him.

Eldín leaned forward to kiss his mother on the brow. 'Fear not, mother. I will return as certainly as the sun rises.'

He turned from her and begun to walk towards the courtyard where he knew the warriors would assemble. Cerímb watched her son go, before bursting into tears.