Fire and flame...
like in a haze Narye stood and watched, powerless, empty, feeling sick.
"I say let the ships burn!"
Her liege's voice rang in her ears, again and again and she could do nothing but obey, not even his sons dared say no except Nelyafinwe. She looked along the beach, trying to spot them through blurry, teary vision. She spotted Makalaure, looking like a ghost and she was sure the same expression was painted on her own face. She saw him reaching for the flute in his sleeve, then shaking his head, arms falling, limp. No lament was enough to soothe the ache of the ships burning, of betrayal and guilt. Not just for the ships, but for the Kinslaying as well. Narye couldn't bear it anymore. She let out a pained cry like a wounded animal, and ran.
***
Years pass, and she joined his lord Makalaure in the plain known as Maglor's gap, fending off Morgoth's forces with the cavalry, she learned to play music in the quiet times between fights and for now, her plagued mind seemed to be at peace
***
Years pass again but the pain never truly went away. They lost the Gap to fire and flame, like they thought to have lost their brethren after Losgar. Reunited, yet again cut off, definitively, this time. "Tears unnumbered ye shall shed..." and Narye cried.
***
She knew not what force kept tugging at her will to follow her lord Makalaure through the years. She knew however that the thread became thinner and thinner, and for every being there is a point where enough is enough and the thread snaps. She could not bear Sirion. She could not witness for the third time kin against kin, nor be part of it. So she stood with her sword limp in her hand, and everything drowned in darkness.
***
... a gentle voice in the air... gentle yet with a hint of authority. There was light, he could feel it through closed eyelids. Odd, she thought, she did not imagine Mandos to be a place filled with light. She tried blinking. A light curtain occupied her field of vision. The curtain moved and the face of an ellon appeared. "Are you well? Healer! Healer, she woke up!"
***
Fate works in strange ways. The ellon, named Laingalad, told her that he found her buried under gravel and bodies. She asked why she was still alive. She did not deserve this mercy. That made him angry. "I am not going to let anyone die, I wouldn't be any better than the kinslayers if I did"
"I am one of them"
He scoffed. "I see you. your eyes are an open book you know? I spotted you on the beach that day. You didn't take part in the fight. You were horrified. I think, that you have lived in regret long enough. The Host of the West is willing to grant pardon-" she cut off his words. "No pardon shall I receive, not until I feel I shall deserve it, with actions that speak for my repentance"
Laingalad looked at her straight in the eyes. "Then, I won't let you toil alone. We shall labor to help this marred land, and the marred kindred in it. Almarë"
