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Old 01-20-2004, 10:28 PM   #210
Maikadilwen
Summoner of Lost Souls
 
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Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: At home, with my Strongbow
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Maikadilwen has just left Hobbiton.
The Eye

"What troubles you, daughter of mine?"

Menelya's words kept echoing in Anwanelme's mind, no matter how hard she tried to will them away. Ignoring her mother, she desperately tried not to see the obvious. No! They were not alike! Not the least! Menelya had been alone with her for most of her life, but only because her father had been killed. Her parents had loved each other. Had they not?
Secretly looking at her mother under her lashes, Anwanelme suddenly realised something in her mother's expression she couldn't remember having seen before. Pain? Grief?

Her own eyes, red-rimmed with tears, searched her mother's face and she suddenly realised that she had never really looked at Menelya as another woman, she had always just been her mother, someone who wanted to control her life for her. Now she realised that this woman, her mother, was all she had left. All others had turned their backs on her and yet, even after what she had done, her mother had come to her, she was here, at her side when no one else would have anything to do with her.
But she does not know. Will she scorn me as well once she finds out the truth? Anwanelme's mind worked frantically to sort through the chaos that was her thoughts. This had to be an evil dream. Yes, it was! Soon she would wake up in her chamber in Imladris and Melost would come to see her before they would begin their journey to the golden wood.

A movement and the sound of a heavy sigh caught her attention and she looked up and realised that Menelya had left her side and was now standing in front of the door as if trying to decide whether or not to leave the room and the sight broke something inside Anwanelme.
"Mother...?" She felt herself panic and reached out for Menelya who quickly turned around and they nearly threw themselves in each others' arms. Sobbing violently, Anwanelme revealed everything to Menelya, clinging onto her, afraid that she too would leave her.
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-"Death borders upon our birth, and our cradle stands in the grave. Our birth is nothing but our death begun."
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