[Mithalwen]

POSTED TO THE GAME ~*~ PIO


Spring SA 1705

Losrian woke to the now familiar sounds of Imladris but it seemed as if the world had been cast anew. She looked across at the one who slept peacefully next to her and smiled. She had not thought such happiness was possible. It had been hard bought but still she felt it undeserved.

Fifteen years earlier, not yet of age she had left Lindon and her parents and gone to seek what she thought to be her destiny in Ost-in Edhil. The fate was not as expected but, given that she could not return the dead to life, she would not exchange it. She looked up at the carved beams of her ceiling and laughed inwardly to think what Ferin would have said had he known how much of her time had been spent at working wood since the day when the Army of Elrond and the refugees of Eregion had come across the hidden valley of Rivendell. So few of the craftsmen had survived that even an apprentice such as herself had increased status and while she still loved metalwork most, in Imladris it seemed natural to shape the buildings to be in harmony with their environment and even the metal work took organic form.

It would be long before the work would be completed but once the essentials of shelter had been met, the natural inclination of the Eldar and the Noldor in particular to marry beauty with function had surfaced. Naturally Losrian had not neglected her own dwelling. Less affected by the loss of Ost in Edhil itself than many of those who had lived there longer, she approached the task of building the refuge with great enthusiasm, fuelled by her own happiness. Before they had met, Losrian had imagined marriage as somthing that would stifle her but Ondomirë's love had increased her self confidence and her creativity had flowered.She remembered the moment she had first seen the valley, and the rush of joy that had seized her, knowing instantly that their wandering was over, that this would be her home with Ondomirë.

A little time had been spared from essentials in those early days for her to craft with the more expert help of Cainenyo two slender bands of silver and the formal betrothal of Losrian and Ondomirë. was the first celebration held at Imladris. Losrian had worn the dress crafted for her coming of age by Laswen which had somehow survived months in a bag in a cart along with the few non-essential possessions that she had brought out from the ruin of Eregion. It was she thought, probably the first time Ondomirë had seen her in a dress.

The next time was at their wedding a year later. She had joked that the only reason she did not resent the customary delay was the need to sew her wedding gown and had hoped that the other elf women would take pity on her as Laswen had, especially since she worked long hours at forge and lathe in the common good. However to her surprise, with their guidance she found that her needle flew and she realised that as with the osanwë-kenta motivation was all. She wanted the dress to be as fair as possible as an expression of her love for Ondomirë and her will seemed to mould her skill. Though by the time of their wedding, their happiness was tempered by the knowledge that the valley was an isolated island in a sea of evil they trusted in "estel" that it would not always be so. Lying safe in her husband's embrace, their hair mingled raven and silver on the pillow Losrian found it easy to have faith.

In the early days the deepest shadow on Losrian's heart was a bittersweet one. As she had predicted some of the farming folk of Eregion had taken refuge in the foothills of the mountains; scouts had found them and guided them to Imladris. Among them had been Isilmë's maternal grandparents. Although Losrian had always spoken the proviso that she would care for the little girl unless her kin could be found the likelihood that this would happen seemed so remote that she had ceased to think it, and had started to think of the girl as part of her family. Although the child would dwell in Rivendell and she would see her daily, yielding the lass to her own delighted family had caused her an exquisite pain that she managed to conceal from most. Not from Ondomirë in whose tender arms she had wept long in private and not from Elrond who saw many things. He had stood at her side and watched with her as Galmir and Isilmë played together. His voice reached her mind "I think in the long term it will be better that those twain are not raised as brother and sister" . Losrian caught his meaning and was comforted. He added "and you will have more children in your house in time". "But not in time of war" she answered. "Wars do not last forever Losrian" he said before leaving her to her thoughts.

Galmir grew, thrived and treated the valley as a giant playground. While Losrian and Ondomirë worked hard they devoted as much time as they could to him and little boy who had been delighted when he realised that the wedding meant that they would live together "like ada and ammë" and had called Ondomirë, Ada-mirë.

Elrond had been right. Sauron's hold over had been short lived. The king of Numenor had sent a great army to the aid of Middle Earth and in 1701 the Dark Lord had been driven back to Mordor and the Westlands would have peace for many years.

As Galmir grew he began to show more traits in face and personality to his parents and grandparents. While he provided such fair remembrance of her lost kin, Losrian felt an increased yearning for another child, one who would reflect the likeness of her beloved Ondomirë and his kin, mingled with her own. In Coirë a year ago, all three of them had gone for a walk in the woods that lined the valley. Ondomirë and she had sat on a fallen trunk and watched Galmir attempt to climb a beech. Noting his lengthening limbs and increasing confidence, Ondomirë had commented that he would soon teach the lad archery and commented that he wasn't a baby any more. He had been surprised by his wife's wistful sigh at his remark. "What is the matter, melda? " he asked silently " You have seemed restless lately..... do you wish to go to Lindon to see your parents .... now that it is safe? " "No! - I mean yes I would love to see them again but .... that is not it " and she opened her mind to reveal the one thing she had tried to conceal from him since their marriage.

Understanding her he had laughed but asked why she had not spoken before knowing how much he loved Galmir. "I thought you would think we should wait a while longer ... but I do not want to wait any more" she said gazing at her feet.
"If you are ready, I am ready " he said and drew her to him, resting his head against hers in the same gesture he had made when she had accepted him nearly eight years before.

In the spring, Losrian conceived and it seemed to her that the changes in her body mimicked nature as it softened and swelled while the flowers budded and blossomed. The plants however rushed to full ripeness and in the autumn while they yielded their harvest, Losrian felt the first stirring of the new life within herself . Unable to express her joy in craft she took up her lute again and made music as long as she could accomodate the roundness of the intrument's belly against her own. In her happiness she lost her shyness and cared not who heard her as she sang and played. Ondomirë was as loving and attentive as she could wish and Galmir, to her relief was looking forward to the arrival of the child that would link them all. "Would you like it to be a boy or a girl?" she had asked him as he rested his little hands on her feeling for the movement of the unborn child with a rapt expression on his face. "Both " he replied. "Well I am fairly certain there is just one in there - you will have to make do with one or the other and hope we don't get the same again next time" she had answered. "Already you think about next time?" asked Ondomirë, and she had seen no reason not to, her pregnancy had given her much joy and little trouble at least until her labour had started.

Now as she lay back on her pillows, little more than a day later, those memories were already fading, overwhelmed by the love she felt for her firstborn, her husband and Galmir the child of her heart. The baby woke and holding the child against her Losrian wondered at the perfection of its tiny limbs and gazed into grey eyes which were so like Ondomirë's.

As if in answer to the thought he arrived with Galmir and she passed the baby to its father while she embraced the little boy, reassuring him that he was loved no less than the new arrival.

The infant seemed even tinier cradled in Ondomirë's arms and watching them with Galmir at her side, she committed the image to her memory, whatever the future brought, this moment would sustain her trust in days when it was harder to believe in Estel. But this was not the time to think of such things. It was a time for joy, for celebration. She smiled at Ondomirë

"So, have you chosen a name?"