Snow Cursed[One shot][Winter 2912]
Jul 25, 2018 20:05:48 GMT -5
Post by MITHIEL on Jul 25, 2018 20:05:48 GMT -5
Moonlight pooled through the open window of her sleeping chamber, laying there, Mithiel’s eyes transfixed at the empty space next to her that Ruivo had occupied. He was gone, the bed cool, indicating to her that he had left some hours ago. Fingers lightly traced the pillow which smelled heavily of his scent and her face scrunched up, biting her bottom lip hard to choke down a cry. She did not understand, why...why did he have to return to his rooms. There was space enough here for them both. Mithiel tried not to cry, tried to convince herself that Ruivo returning to his room meant nothing to her but it had. It had been a silent message to her that they were to continue being seperated. A silent message that her presence was not wanted any longer. That she had served her purpose.
Mithiel lay there with her stomach turning in knots, pulling and guilt pooled through her. What had she done, what had she done that had made Ruivo pull so far away from her. What had she done that made him lock her out of what had once been their life. Her hand rested on the spot his back had laid, these many weeks as he healed. Throat tightening as she reflected that she had almost lost him. Blood, there had been so much blood that he would have been dead had he been mortal. It was by grace alone that he had lived. Mithiel felt the fear creeping into her. She had been on the veranda when Elrohir and Elladan had returned with Ruivo supported between them. Many years had it been since her blood ran cold, that moment on the veranda; Mithiel’s blood froze in her veins. Her world moved in slow motion, Mithiel could not recall how she got off the veranda, she could not recall how she came to be in the arms one of the many lords of Elrond’s house. The ellon was holding her in his arms as she screamed Ruivo’s name, kicking and flailing, trying to get away from the ellon, trying with all of her strength to get to Ruivo’s side while the twins and Glorfindel hurried to get Ruivo to Elrond. This was all Mithiel could remember from those slow time lapsed moments, before Erestor coming to fetch her with the words that Elrond needed her. That Ruivo would not be still for them, the great smith of the north needed her.
Elrond had needed her to settle Ruivo, he writhed against being tended to in his agony. Elrond needed Mithiel there to reach Ruivo so he could sedate the elf. None could comfort him like she could, even now with distance between them. She brought her comforting hands to the flame haired smith. In service to him, Mithiel found peace. Home, in him she found that. Had always found a place within Ruivo’s presence that brought meaning to her life. He was home to her, more than just love. Fëa bound to one another without having shared hröar. Elrond once in his great wisdom had told her that he had never seen a soul bond like that which Mithiel shared with Ruivo. Being bound without sharing of hröar in the nature of marriage was a rarity. So rare that it was believed to be ordained by Eru and blessed with silver threads. Precious silver that was beloved by the elves. Honored. Cherished. Elrond believed that their blood had mingled with one another's at the kinslaying at The Mouths of Sirion. The mixing of their blood bound them to one another in a way, that they carried each other in the physical space of their veins. They shared from their lifespring. Their souls entwined with one another, briar and rose. Never would there be another for them. Their destiny had been written by Eru. Seen in the stars by Varda and woven into the history of the elves by Vairë.
Mithiel’s slender fingers traced the dip in the pillow where her red haired vellyn had laid. Mithiel then quietly let out a ghostly cry. Low and slow with a pain filled squeeze at the top of her throat was the cry. Wetness slipped from her eyes, rolling one drop after another. Spilling her chin, to the pillow and top of her night dress. Aching as she pulled Ruivo’s pillow to her chest and hugged it tightly, inhaling his scent as if her face was burying into the silken red strands of his hair, short red hair that she admired. Those brilliant hued strands that Ruivo shared with Norochil, the color she had hoped if they ever made an alloy, that their alloy would have his hair. She knew Ruivo was just in the south wing and yet in that moment there seemed to be a massive wall between them. The south wing seemed as far as Lothlorien to her right now; Mithiel wanted to go there, to his door and slip into his room and ask him why. Why had he left when he knew she would have been delighted for him to stay. Elated even at Ruivo staying with her. Sleeping in the bed he had crafted, that they had dreamed together and planned for. A bed big enough for them both and even an elfling or two. The scent from his weeks of sleeping next to her, she’d inhale from her pillow, burying her face into the soft feather down as she had into the crook of his shoulder and neck. Her second favorite place to sleep when they were together. Mithiel’s favorite was her head on his chest, so she could hear the melody of his heart. “Kando…” whispering as her face snuggled the dense feather pillow. Eyes drifting down her bare arms. Still in Ruivo’s tunic; she had taken to wearing one of his clean tunics as a night dress these past few months. He had not asked her to but when she had appeared at the edge of the bed in the worn green tunic and crawled into bed next him, she had felt him draw closer into her and settle into the mattress with a damn near sigh of content on his lips as they brushed the edge of her hair as she laid her head against his shoulder.
It had been tenderness, closeness. Now...there was nothing but Mithiel laying there with her pillow pulled to her body. Just the scent of Ruivo and memories. Memories were all she held of Ruivo now. The first time in many long years she had felt him and he was gone once more just as he had left side in Lothlorien. Here in the pale moonlight, he had left. Left without a word. Slipped off like a ghost, a tall shadow in the dark that lingered. Mithiel’s finger clenched against the pillow. Nails hugged the cream pillow case; with the strength of her sinewy arms, Mithiel’s pillow sailed through the air and landed with a soft thud, just like a ghost against the stone floor.
“Why” she whispered and drew her knees to her chest. Staring sleepless into the darkened shadows of her room.
Mithiel lay there with her stomach turning in knots, pulling and guilt pooled through her. What had she done, what had she done that had made Ruivo pull so far away from her. What had she done that made him lock her out of what had once been their life. Her hand rested on the spot his back had laid, these many weeks as he healed. Throat tightening as she reflected that she had almost lost him. Blood, there had been so much blood that he would have been dead had he been mortal. It was by grace alone that he had lived. Mithiel felt the fear creeping into her. She had been on the veranda when Elrohir and Elladan had returned with Ruivo supported between them. Many years had it been since her blood ran cold, that moment on the veranda; Mithiel’s blood froze in her veins. Her world moved in slow motion, Mithiel could not recall how she got off the veranda, she could not recall how she came to be in the arms one of the many lords of Elrond’s house. The ellon was holding her in his arms as she screamed Ruivo’s name, kicking and flailing, trying to get away from the ellon, trying with all of her strength to get to Ruivo’s side while the twins and Glorfindel hurried to get Ruivo to Elrond. This was all Mithiel could remember from those slow time lapsed moments, before Erestor coming to fetch her with the words that Elrond needed her. That Ruivo would not be still for them, the great smith of the north needed her.
Elrond had needed her to settle Ruivo, he writhed against being tended to in his agony. Elrond needed Mithiel there to reach Ruivo so he could sedate the elf. None could comfort him like she could, even now with distance between them. She brought her comforting hands to the flame haired smith. In service to him, Mithiel found peace. Home, in him she found that. Had always found a place within Ruivo’s presence that brought meaning to her life. He was home to her, more than just love. Fëa bound to one another without having shared hröar. Elrond once in his great wisdom had told her that he had never seen a soul bond like that which Mithiel shared with Ruivo. Being bound without sharing of hröar in the nature of marriage was a rarity. So rare that it was believed to be ordained by Eru and blessed with silver threads. Precious silver that was beloved by the elves. Honored. Cherished. Elrond believed that their blood had mingled with one another's at the kinslaying at The Mouths of Sirion. The mixing of their blood bound them to one another in a way, that they carried each other in the physical space of their veins. They shared from their lifespring. Their souls entwined with one another, briar and rose. Never would there be another for them. Their destiny had been written by Eru. Seen in the stars by Varda and woven into the history of the elves by Vairë.
Mithiel’s slender fingers traced the dip in the pillow where her red haired vellyn had laid. Mithiel then quietly let out a ghostly cry. Low and slow with a pain filled squeeze at the top of her throat was the cry. Wetness slipped from her eyes, rolling one drop after another. Spilling her chin, to the pillow and top of her night dress. Aching as she pulled Ruivo’s pillow to her chest and hugged it tightly, inhaling his scent as if her face was burying into the silken red strands of his hair, short red hair that she admired. Those brilliant hued strands that Ruivo shared with Norochil, the color she had hoped if they ever made an alloy, that their alloy would have his hair. She knew Ruivo was just in the south wing and yet in that moment there seemed to be a massive wall between them. The south wing seemed as far as Lothlorien to her right now; Mithiel wanted to go there, to his door and slip into his room and ask him why. Why had he left when he knew she would have been delighted for him to stay. Elated even at Ruivo staying with her. Sleeping in the bed he had crafted, that they had dreamed together and planned for. A bed big enough for them both and even an elfling or two. The scent from his weeks of sleeping next to her, she’d inhale from her pillow, burying her face into the soft feather down as she had into the crook of his shoulder and neck. Her second favorite place to sleep when they were together. Mithiel’s favorite was her head on his chest, so she could hear the melody of his heart. “Kando…” whispering as her face snuggled the dense feather pillow. Eyes drifting down her bare arms. Still in Ruivo’s tunic; she had taken to wearing one of his clean tunics as a night dress these past few months. He had not asked her to but when she had appeared at the edge of the bed in the worn green tunic and crawled into bed next him, she had felt him draw closer into her and settle into the mattress with a damn near sigh of content on his lips as they brushed the edge of her hair as she laid her head against his shoulder.
It had been tenderness, closeness. Now...there was nothing but Mithiel laying there with her pillow pulled to her body. Just the scent of Ruivo and memories. Memories were all she held of Ruivo now. The first time in many long years she had felt him and he was gone once more just as he had left side in Lothlorien. Here in the pale moonlight, he had left. Left without a word. Slipped off like a ghost, a tall shadow in the dark that lingered. Mithiel’s finger clenched against the pillow. Nails hugged the cream pillow case; with the strength of her sinewy arms, Mithiel’s pillow sailed through the air and landed with a soft thud, just like a ghost against the stone floor.
“Why” she whispered and drew her knees to her chest. Staring sleepless into the darkened shadows of her room.