Post by Admin on Oct 1, 2024 14:32:37 GMT
SUMMARY: The Peredhil siblings recall their strongest memories of their mother’s final year in Middle Earth.
RATING: T
CHARACTERS: Arwen, Celebrían, Elladan, Elrohir
WARNING: Angst
AUTHOR: sakurashakedown
Reminiscence
Elrohir remembered most the smell.
The strong putrid odor of rotting meat mixed with the sharp pungent scents of medicinal herbs, all underlaid with something sickly sweet. Elrohir stood by the door watching his father, healers, and handmaids rush about.
And all that time that horrible smell.
Elladan demanded repeatedly to take his post. Arwen pleaded for it. But Elrohir staunchly refused. His siblings’ hearts were too soft to withstand this. Even now Elladan was nearly mad with fury and Arwen…he could never allow her to see their mother so. He could never allow her to see their mother rot.
*
Elladan distinctly recalled the sounds. Nothing was more horrifying than the sounds emitted from his mother’s healing room. Pans clattered, attendants spoke in rushed voices as they hurried in and out of the room that Elrohir would not let them enter. Every now and then: a blood-curdling scream, followed by a long gurgling groan.
In the hallway Elladan and his sister were silent. Tears ran continuously down Arwen’s face, but she never made a sound. Lindir appeared periodically and quietly served them tea. The clink of teacups, the soft splash of tea. And every now and then, a blood-curdling scream.
*
What Arwen remembered most vividly was this: the way her mother’s hand felt in her own. How thin the bruised skin was. How she could feel every small bone in her mother’s once strong hand. The cool, clamminess of it.
Arwen held Celebrían’s unbroken hand in both of hers, cradling it. Celebrían’s crushed hand lay bandaged and useless at her side. In a far corner of the room Elrohir slept deeply, unaware of her presence.
Arwen leaned down and kissed her mother’s closed, sunken eyes. When she did, Celebrían’s eyes flew open. She looked, unrecognizing, at Arwen first with fear, then deep confusion, her ruined face contorting into a mask of panic. Arwen placed a hand on her mother’s hollow cheek. Here too the skin was so thin she could see the bones of her face. Her mother’s face was usually as soft and smooth as a pearl, but now it was mottled, rough, discolored even in the moonlight that spilled in from the window.
”Mama,” Arwen whispered quietly.
Celebrían looked into her eyes then. Her sickly pale skin turned briefly golden. A world of worries fell from her face. She pressed her wilted cheek weakly against Arwen’s palm. She mouthed the words, my girl, as Arwen stroked her wasted face and lightly squeezed her gnarled hand. Celebrían took in one long shuddering breath and exhaled in a wheeze. Then she opened her mouth and said so very softly, her voice raspy and ruined, “I cannot stay, my love. I’m sorry.”
Arwen held her breath. She blinked back her tears. She composed herself, pulled herself back into the lady her mother trained her to be. Then she leaned down and gently kissed her mother’s forehead. She whispered against her feverish brow, “It’s alright, mama. I love you. You can go.”
RATING: T
CHARACTERS: Arwen, Celebrían, Elladan, Elrohir
WARNING: Angst
AUTHOR: sakurashakedown
Reminiscence
Elrohir remembered most the smell.
The strong putrid odor of rotting meat mixed with the sharp pungent scents of medicinal herbs, all underlaid with something sickly sweet. Elrohir stood by the door watching his father, healers, and handmaids rush about.
And all that time that horrible smell.
Elladan demanded repeatedly to take his post. Arwen pleaded for it. But Elrohir staunchly refused. His siblings’ hearts were too soft to withstand this. Even now Elladan was nearly mad with fury and Arwen…he could never allow her to see their mother so. He could never allow her to see their mother rot.
*
Elladan distinctly recalled the sounds. Nothing was more horrifying than the sounds emitted from his mother’s healing room. Pans clattered, attendants spoke in rushed voices as they hurried in and out of the room that Elrohir would not let them enter. Every now and then: a blood-curdling scream, followed by a long gurgling groan.
In the hallway Elladan and his sister were silent. Tears ran continuously down Arwen’s face, but she never made a sound. Lindir appeared periodically and quietly served them tea. The clink of teacups, the soft splash of tea. And every now and then, a blood-curdling scream.
*
What Arwen remembered most vividly was this: the way her mother’s hand felt in her own. How thin the bruised skin was. How she could feel every small bone in her mother’s once strong hand. The cool, clamminess of it.
Arwen held Celebrían’s unbroken hand in both of hers, cradling it. Celebrían’s crushed hand lay bandaged and useless at her side. In a far corner of the room Elrohir slept deeply, unaware of her presence.
Arwen leaned down and kissed her mother’s closed, sunken eyes. When she did, Celebrían’s eyes flew open. She looked, unrecognizing, at Arwen first with fear, then deep confusion, her ruined face contorting into a mask of panic. Arwen placed a hand on her mother’s hollow cheek. Here too the skin was so thin she could see the bones of her face. Her mother’s face was usually as soft and smooth as a pearl, but now it was mottled, rough, discolored even in the moonlight that spilled in from the window.
”Mama,” Arwen whispered quietly.
Celebrían looked into her eyes then. Her sickly pale skin turned briefly golden. A world of worries fell from her face. She pressed her wilted cheek weakly against Arwen’s palm. She mouthed the words, my girl, as Arwen stroked her wasted face and lightly squeezed her gnarled hand. Celebrían took in one long shuddering breath and exhaled in a wheeze. Then she opened her mouth and said so very softly, her voice raspy and ruined, “I cannot stay, my love. I’m sorry.”
Arwen held her breath. She blinked back her tears. She composed herself, pulled herself back into the lady her mother trained her to be. Then she leaned down and gently kissed her mother’s forehead. She whispered against her feverish brow, “It’s alright, mama. I love you. You can go.”