The fragrance of wild flowers wafted in the spring breeze. Her bare feet dug into the cool earth as she gazed up into the light. Rays of sunlight graced her pale skin with warmth. She lifted her arms, allowing herself to feel this simple please. Her thin dress rippled in the wind, flapping against her lower legs. This paradise felt too serene. Long, black hair danced in the wind as she opened her eyes again.
"Ni-na... Eira?"
She spoke the words in a dreamlike state, simplistic and with an innocence to it. She blinked, looking down to the multi-colored flowers surrounding her. It was beautiful and unique. Quite unique. She... recalled...
"Inzil... Ithilien? ..."
She blinked, looking around. She was atop a tall hill. Mist surrounded the hill, making it hard to see past the beautiful flowers and sunshine. The wind swirled. Her skirt rippled and her hair coiled around her face. She was confused. This did not feel much like Ithilien, despite the similarities. She looked down. Her stomach was flat and toned. Had her babies already come? Where were they? She looked for her sons, where were those boys? Nimraph? He was not here. No soul was here. No family, no friends. Nothing. She was alone.
As the winds fluffed the flowers, she slumped. She recalled the feeling of isolation well. But why Ithilien? Or a place like Ithilien? It was pretty, yes, but... It felt off.
Then, she heard footsteps.
She spun around, bare feet sliding through the blades of grass. The footsteps crunched through the mist before a figure stepped through. The clink of unnatural metal armor echoed in the paradise as the figure stepped through. As his cruel boot edited the fog, he spoke in mocking Weston; as if she could not understand her own tongue.
"You are... worm."
He stomped on a flower, crushing it beneath.
And he emerged, a behemoth whom boasted the true height and muscular tone of Numenorean kind. His voice was cruel, and the eyes that gazed upon her were not spiteful, but entertained.
"Always a pleasure, rabe."
She winced, taking a step back. She felt unprotected in her thin dress, with no weapons or armor on her. She hissed in fear, "You!"
He chuckled, "You are no heir, and you never will be. Your pathetic father is not here to protect his failing house now. It is only a matter of time... before I finally claim what is rightfully mine."
Her heart leapt in terror as he burst into a sprint, crushing more flowers beneath as he charged her. Flower petals flung and grass flew in the wind as his hand extended outwards. She turned to run, calling out, "Nimraph!"
A gauntlet slammed into her head. The hand gripping her skull shoved her into the ground. He bent in close and whispered, "How many slaves screamed for help before you crushed them? You can expect no mercy here."
She panted, struggling and failing to stand, "I-is that why you're chasing me?" She spit out some dirt, "Penance for my sins?"
He scoffed, "That would make me a hypocrite. No, no I am only here for my own agenda. Is there some spite? Perhaps, but as always..."
He snickered, "It's just fun."
________________________________________________________
Eira gasped as she woke up. Sweating, she pulled herself up and panted. In the darkness of the bedroom, she reached down and checked the safety of the children in her tummy. She sighed in relief, they were alright. She looked over to the shadowed figure of Nimraph and reached over, placing a clammy hand on his shoulder. She sighed.
She had hardly thought of the person in her dream since coming to Bree. Why remember that detestable wretch now? She sighed, wondering if every enemy she made would enjoy chasing her to Bree. Would he chase her to Bree? Was she still being hunted? What about her family? With a sigh, she laid back down with newfound doubts swirling in her mind. She tried to convince herself that the dream was just a paranoid nightmare. It was only a subconscious scare, nothing more. Her four beautiful children were safe. She was drenched in cold sweat, causing her to shiver. She huddled against Nimraph's warm body the best her swollen stomach allowed, breathing in the comfort of his presence. No, this was just a dream. Just a dream. She hoped...
Was she worrying too much, or too little?
