mallossel

Cardanith stood in a vast sea of grey. The sand underneath his feet gave way, shifting under his weight, his boot sinking in the ground. A bloodied spear looms tall in his hand, this point of silver, tainted by crimson. No mantle adorns his shoulders, and a faint yearning, a calling beckons him to the foulest of places. To Iron and stone. To a place where all withers, and where, bound in rusted chain, awaits an oath sworn long ago. 

“Daughter of mine, will you ever marry?” Her father asks her one day beneath the weeping willow tree; a dried-up creek-bed ran beside their feet, the current still alive with crickets and toads and the stagnant rainwater of a world that had not yet washed the sins of the first away with its rushing flood. 

"I was a deadly thing, was I not?" A pause, the first of many. "But I… I was not whole. I was broken.”

The lyrics contained within the entry are from "Achilles Come Down" by Gang of Youths

The self is not so weightless

“Did you love him?”

“I do love him.”

*

“Had you much chance to gaze upon these falls in peace as of late?” Mylher asks, approaching the elder elleth as she watches the falls of Imladris crash down in dazzling disarray. Mallossel turns her head for a moment to look at Mylher before her eyes return to the water. 

“I’m… sorry, hiril. I don’t understand,” Ithilwe says as he looks to her with eyes lost in confusion and grief. “You did not die. You are in front of me here, alive, breathing.”

Rings like chains wrap around fingers too soft to know the hardship of love and loyalty; of war and betrayal. She is dressed in a gown of white; lilies adorn hair too clean to have ever been stained with blood and gore. She is smiling. She is beautiful. It is her wedding day.