S.A 1352
After the traumatic incidents in Caranoth, Orneth was left struggling with her thoughts, feeling as though she was completely alone in the world. The absence of Naerchanar, who had disappeared without a trace, was a heavy burden for her to bear. She couldn't help but wonder why he had never visited the stone buildings where they had been held captive. It was as though he had abandoned her and the others, leaving them to fend for themselves. Despite the fact that Naerchanar had given her a beautiful daisy as a symbol of his affection, it now seemed to Orneth that it had lost its value. She had cherished the flower, but it now seemed like a hollow gesture. The questions and doubts that swirled in her mind left her feeling lost and alone.
One day, as Orneth delved into the archives of Eregion, Demdor arrived to see her. At the sight of him, a sting of sadness overwhelmed her, despite knowing his duties were of the utmost importance to him. She couldn't help feeling somewhat neglected by him, considering he had orchestrated the siege in Caranoth and saved her, among others. Without him, she might still be lost and forgotten in that place. She had held him in high regard for such things. As Demdor approached her, his golden hair tied back, and his light armor on, he greeted her cordially. "Lady Orneth, I just wanted to check on you. I hope you are well." Orneth smiled and nodded in response, "I am, Demdor. Thank you for your concern. And how about you? It seems you are heading out for patrol?" He confirmed her suspicion, "Indeed, there is much disturbance around, and it is my duty to ensure the safety of the Eldars who venture out." Orneth couldn't help but be fascinated by his azure blue eyes.
"Orneth," he began, his voice heavy with regret, "I know I should have come sooner to help you escape. I let you down. I let myself down." Demdor lowered his gaze, guilt shadowing his features. "I was... severely delayed." Orneth's smile faltered as sadness welled up inside her again, but sympathy softened her expression. "I heard you were ambushed and chased away?" she asked gently. "Yes," he replied, his tone bitter. "During the same attack, they struck me with arrows." Orneth's brow furrowed as she looked at him with a mix of concern and surprise. "I didn’t know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Demdor hesitated before continuing, his voice thick with a mix of shame and pain. "I was... out of commission for a few years. In a deep slumber, recovering." Orneth’s eyes widened in shock. "I didn’t know, Demdor," she said again, her voice trembling. He shook his head in frustration, his fists clenching at his sides. "If that hadn’t happened, you would have been free years ago." Orneth looked at him with deep sadness. "But you finally managed to free not only me but also Falchon and his friends. That counts for so much." Demdor turned away, his jaw tightening as anger flashed in his eyes. "I have so much rage inside me, Orneth. Caranoth was burned to the ground. I avenged it, but... it still doesn’t feel like enough." Orneth stared at him, and slowly, the gravity of his words settled over her. She realized just how gravely injured he must have been, falling into a coma—perhaps even coming close to death. Her chest ached with guilt. "It’s my fault you were attacked, Demdor," she said softly, her voice laced with regret. "I insisted we go there. I shouldn’t have involved you so deeply." Reaching out, she took his hand in hers. "But I’m here now. My soul bears its own scars, but I’m recovering. And above all... I’m glad to be free."
Demdor answered, "Naerchanar was nowhere to be found, and the guards around Caranoth were strangely aggressive and dangerous." Demdor added, "With the help of Lord Mannamo, we gathered Eldars with influence like Feawing and Elarion. Finally, we received help from Eregion." Orneth nodded as she listened, "Although it came at a cost, the whole settlement was destroyed." Orneth replied, "Only the stone house remains." Demdor looked down, "Ironically, that is the only house still standing where all the cruelty happened."
'Demdor bowed politely and left, leaving Orneth a little puzzled yet still smiling. She knew that he was not one to engage in small talk and that he could disappear as quickly as he arrived. But somehow, she found it quite liberating that he was himself. He felt very genuine and loyal, and there was no doubt that he felt bad he could not help Orneth sooner. However, the conditions he had to deal with, along with his critical wound, made it difficult for him to act sooner. Orneth decided to move on from the past and let it belong to where it should be.
As the days passed, visions and memories continued to haunt Orneth. She still had vivid nightmares of a chase, a windmill, and a possible assault. Waking up from those dreams brought both relief and burden. The fear and dread that she had experienced during her imprisonment had not completely left her. Orneth knew that she had to remain vigilant and prepared for whatever might come her way.
Orneth was filled with excitement at the mere thought of seeing Falchon again after their rescue. The time they had spent together in captivity had been a turning point in their relationship, forging an unbreakable bond that Orneth had never experienced before. However, as she finally laid eyes on Falchon after their release, she felt an unsettling sensation. Although his demeanor remained calm and collected, there was a palpable distance between them that had not existed before. As they talked, it became apparent that Falchon had become more guarded and withdrawn. Orneth decided not to pry and instead be a source of comfort for him. Often, he would sit alone on a bench outside the guesthouse or take solitary walks, and Orneth would accompany him. They would spend time in peaceful silence, and it never felt awkward or strange. In the archives, he would sometimes come to see her and sit at a table next to her, silently observing. Orneth welcomed his company, understanding the gravity of his experiences. Not only had he been imprisoned for a long time, but he had also lost his mother, and his father appeared to be dabbling in dark powers that had marked both Manyamë and himself.
It was clear to Orneth that she was inexorably drawn to Falchon. On one hand, she was relieved that her bond with him could help her forget about Marilo, but on the other hand, it terrified her. Falchon was likely even more complex than Marilo and had much more baggage to deal with. He possessed the Noldor blood and was cursed with a beauty that could deceive even the most resolute of minds. Orneth was no exception. Having known him for over a year, he had saved her sanity and life in countless ways. It was impossible not to be indelibly marked by him.
All pictures are AI-generated from Microsoft Bing DALL·E
