A Moment Alone (Open) Feburary 3011
Jan 4, 2018 4:07:03 GMT -5
Post by ADANEDHEL on Jan 4, 2018 4:07:03 GMT -5
It had been so long since he had seen home and his family. The elf was outside, sitting under a tree as he watched the miles of land that was in front of him. With his keen eyes, he could see further than any Man and right now, he saw just land. A sigh escaped his lips. Was his Naneth alright? How was his Adar? Adan climbed into the tree and sat on a branch now, leaning against the trunk. He tried reaching his Naneth with his mind, knowing that their connection with one another was stronger than what others thought it to be. Mostly siblings or spouses could do this, but Adan never heard of such a thing between mother and son. Despite that, he was thankful for being able to do such a thing. Adanedhel was certainly trying to reach for her, seeing if she would ever respond. He would look like he was in a daze if someone were to come by. Which he was sure now that several people have walked by, looking at him oddly. Men. The elf knew that they wouldn't understand. Despite the concentration, Adan couldn't get anything from his Naneth. Something must have been wrong. His Naneth normally responded quickly to him, assuring she was fine when he went on his travels. A sigh escaped his lips. Perhaps she was busy; she would've told him otherwise, right? The elf was unsure of himself as always. If his Adar didn't put him in such a mood then his own negativity about his own self would. He could try to reach his father, but wouldn't he just ignore him? He normally did anyways. Why bother with Saeros?
After the nazgul's and after such a fight, Adan was left a bit weary. The elf had never been up against something so dark, so fierce. Having that enter him and try to change him into such darkness left a mark on him. Adan wasn't as strong as he once was. He could still feel a lingering weakness inside of him from that cursed blade. Adan's hands would sake, he would sometimes have cold sweat, and he would have nightmares. The elf was exhausted and just wished to be home. Yes, he was homesick. He had never gone so far away from home before. Well, yes he has. He could recall a time that he traveled close to here, slaying orcs with a friend that he had met. Adan wondered how his Ranger friend was doing. Perhaps he was in Imaldris again where his brother was? Adan wasn't sure, but he hoped that he was alright. The elf though, was not. Something was terribly wrong with his spirit and he knew he would need Elvish healing to fix it. He felt cold, intangable. The poor thing even had dark circles around his eyes. Could he ask for help? Of course! Runa was an excellent healer and would certainly try to help, but there was one thing keeping Adan from asking; Pride. He had to keep what amount of pride he had left, for the orcs who tortured him took the rest of it away. The groveling and screaming for them to stop made him loose so much pride in his own self. Not to mention the scars...
The elf looked down at his wrists. He rubbed them gently as he looked at the silvery huge bands from the skin being torn away from shackles. Those nightmares would never stop. Adan could remember that such horror brought many of his kin to Valinor. Would that be Adan's case? Would his soul and mind become so weary that he would have to sail to the West? Sweet Eru.. Not now..
He closed his eyes for but a moment, listening to the tree speak. It was trying to reassure him, that Light conquers over Darkness. Adanedhel smiled a sad smile at that. Perhaps so, friend. I am afraid though it won't be this time.
After the nazgul's and after such a fight, Adan was left a bit weary. The elf had never been up against something so dark, so fierce. Having that enter him and try to change him into such darkness left a mark on him. Adan wasn't as strong as he once was. He could still feel a lingering weakness inside of him from that cursed blade. Adan's hands would sake, he would sometimes have cold sweat, and he would have nightmares. The elf was exhausted and just wished to be home. Yes, he was homesick. He had never gone so far away from home before. Well, yes he has. He could recall a time that he traveled close to here, slaying orcs with a friend that he had met. Adan wondered how his Ranger friend was doing. Perhaps he was in Imaldris again where his brother was? Adan wasn't sure, but he hoped that he was alright. The elf though, was not. Something was terribly wrong with his spirit and he knew he would need Elvish healing to fix it. He felt cold, intangable. The poor thing even had dark circles around his eyes. Could he ask for help? Of course! Runa was an excellent healer and would certainly try to help, but there was one thing keeping Adan from asking; Pride. He had to keep what amount of pride he had left, for the orcs who tortured him took the rest of it away. The groveling and screaming for them to stop made him loose so much pride in his own self. Not to mention the scars...
The elf looked down at his wrists. He rubbed them gently as he looked at the silvery huge bands from the skin being torn away from shackles. Those nightmares would never stop. Adan could remember that such horror brought many of his kin to Valinor. Would that be Adan's case? Would his soul and mind become so weary that he would have to sail to the West? Sweet Eru.. Not now..
He closed his eyes for but a moment, listening to the tree speak. It was trying to reassure him, that Light conquers over Darkness. Adanedhel smiled a sad smile at that. Perhaps so, friend. I am afraid though it won't be this time.