Amroth looked at Erebemlin, and leaned on him in his heart. Avarien? He did not know when she had left. She felt near yet far, or was it far yet near? And she had never before seemed a... a rascal. Or ... a thief? He frowned.
The boy. And his waiflike, wraithlike sister. He shuddered. So they had lingered here?
He knew more than he wanted to remember, about lingering. It sickened him, and he wanted to weep for them but revulsion was stronger.
Go. Go to where your fathers await you! Linger not! Linger not, children. Fly, fly to your ancestral home. Be at peace.
He was surprised to be met with laughter, and Erebemlin stirred, looking down at Mellonin in Ravion's arms.
Nimrodel lay quietly in her ashes.
Last edited by piosenniel; 06-28-2008 at 01:23 AM.
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