mature

Manadhlaer sinks into her meditation position with great effort tonight. Anyone spying on her chambers would see her on her knees this night, having changed bodily arrangement in the hopes of changing her seemingly unstoppable visions.

Manadhlaer folds her legs and begins to meditate on all those needing energy, from her newest pots of celebrant to those in the Houses of Healing, to the guests of Elrond's house, to Bar-en-Vanimar's detachment to the campaign in the Hithaeglir meant to rescue some Greenwood elves. Her face is open-eyed and serene, as the face of a young mother feeding her baby.

Where are you, darling? Help me. I am freezing.