We will stand nigh and watch
On precipice high
For the day of The Fall
Whence our path
Bright with hope
Shall before us be scrawled.
On the day of The Fall
I will, with ready eyes-willing heart,
Greet my future in full.
A vision of Amroth-as seen on the last day of summer, his seventy-fourth year.
In the early dawn, three figures gazed over the heights of oblivion. Two laughed.
"I want to go home now, Malton, this is not fun."
A small girlchild-perhaps only of five- tugged tightly against a hand laid on her arm, trying to back away from what she saw as certain doom. An older child-a rugged boy of perhaps ten-pulled her before him, taking hold of her other arm and guiding her to the edge of the danger. Behind them, another girl of the same age as the boy snickered and goaded him on with shrill giggles.
"No, stand over there."
So Elizabeth corrected her stance, gazing down at the misty hills far below her place, her bright eyes wide as saucers. Malton leaned brazenly, spitting over the falls with a smirk and slapping his thigh, leaning back again. Elizabeth backed slowly away, clutching the hem of her dress and tugging it up away from the shallows of the river. Malton and Brigit shared a pointed look and snickered, the twins skipping away from the edge of the falls blithely as though there were no danger in the slightest.
"What a giant chicken! You should just lay like a hen and be done with it."
Brigit sneered, dragging her hemline through the mud and water without fear, waggling a finger in Elizabeth's face. The younger child pulled back, her eyes widening further and her mouth twisting in a frown. Perhaps it had not been wise to follow the elder children out to play, but they had promised her treats. Their father made the most lovely candied apple bits-she'd been unable to resist the tempting offer. Now, however, her hands trembling and her eyes stinging with tears, she was certain she could resist any candy from them henceforth. She didn't even want the candy Malton held out now in his hand.
"I'm not a chicken! You're cruel nasty shrews, the both of you! I'm going home!"
Elizabeth swatted away the candied apple slices and stomped in the water, soaking the three of them rather thoroughly. Malton gave a mocking cry and skipped from reach, hopping up on the grassy banks of the river and popping the one surviving candy bit into his mouth with a smirk. Brigit cried out angrily as her carefully-curled hair flattened in the cool river water, launching herself at the younger girl in a fit.
"You little clotpole! I'll throttle you full-on!"
Elizabeth and Bridgit grappled a brief moment before the older(larger) girl triumphed-toppling them both into the water. Into her chest, Elizabeth felt the sudden flooding inrush of water where there should have been air, and she choked-struggling to detach the older girl. For a long handful of moments longer, she panicked and pounded at Brigit's chest til suddenly the weight of the other was gone. There was a brief moment of confusion before the small child moved to sit up and out of the water-and met limp resistance. Giving a short and choked cry underwater, Elizabeth pushed with all of her might-disloging the inanimate form of her aggressor, and sat up.
For many-the sensation of the familiar is so ingrained that the removal of it can disorient them for elongated periods of time. For children-this is often even longer. For Elizabeth, it felt like an eternity. The cool, streaming, azure water of the river was tinted pink around her-the air thick with smoke. Somewhere in the distance, dulled by the hard resonant pounding of her heart in her chest-The toddler heard the sound of someone screaming her name. Slowly, she turned her head towards the shore, where a blurred adult form stumbled over an equally-blurred child form; prone on the ground. The features were indistinct, but the child instinctually-recognized the hurried gait of her own mother.
"Brigit-Ellie, come now!"
Elizabeth blinked to clear the water from her eyes, slowly standing in the shallow water beside Brigit. She took a couple uncertain steps towards her mother's voice, then turned to call for Brigit to do the same. But Brigit did not answer the cries, she just lay there with her face in the water, her arms spread wide beside her. Confused, Elizabeth leaned down to tug on the older girl's sleeve before hands suddenly grabbed her from behind. Standing back, Elizabeth gazed through blurred eyes at the far shore of the river, where another solitary form held something before it, pointed at her. She gave a shriek before a hand clamped over her mouth and she was dragged from the water towards the woods.
"Quiet, darling, quiet."
Elizabeth fell limp in the arms of her mother, wrapping her own arms around the woman's neck as she suddenly halted. With a sort of hollow resonance that crashed in on her, the child suddenly noted the loud sounds of armor and cries, suddenly smelled the heavy musk of smoke, suddenly tasted the acrid tang of blood in her mouth. Merie Quincy teetered uncertainly, seeming to try and tell where the sounds were coming from. In her arms, Elizabeth gave an uncertain sob and Merie bounced her softly, murmuring incoherent comfort sounds as she thought. They couldn't go back to the farm-but where?
"Mama, what's wrong?"
Merie turned her head sharply as she heard crashing from the woods. With a stifled cry, she stumbled backwards, turning to shield her child and running backwards towards the falls.
"Mama-not so fast!"
Elizabeth cried, her teeth chattering harshly against one another. Merie shushed her frantically and maintained her pace, tears stinging at the back of her eyes.
"Hush, baby, hush."
She whispered with an undertone of desperation that silenced the child immediately. Round the bend they came again, Merie hesitating not in the slightest as she delved into the shallows of the river and dropped to her knees, slowly crawling upstream through the reeds. Elizabeth gave a slight whimper as her back and shoulders sank into the cold river water, straining to keep her head afloat. Merie cradled her with one arm, whispering encouragement as she made her way slowly through water that seemed to be more red than it had ever been blue. In the distance and growing nearer, the sounds of mighty crashing and load battle cries rang from the rocks and bounced off the water around them-but Merie crawled slowly still, ever patient.
They were nearly at town now, Elizabeth knew from the site of the small dock ahead of them, and she gave a small sigh of relief as her mother pulled them both under the rickety structure and tugged the child into her lap. She ran shaking fingers through Elizabeth's soaked strands and whispered admonishments. Across the shallow part of the river, Elizabeth saw dark, bent figures running before a backdrop of flames. It looked as if even the forest was aflame now, and the sky tinged blood red. And then a shout went up from one of the figures. It pointed towards the two huddled figures of Merie and Elizabeth, and the woman gave a cry of despair before throwing them both out of cover.
On the far banks, grey and brown figures waded into the water, holding shiny long objects high above their heads as they waded deeper and deeper. Weeping now softly, Merie hoisted Elizabeth high above the water and into a small boat tied to the dock. As her fingers dug into the ropes fastening the vessel, pittering sounds rang around them. Elizabeth gaped at long, slim, wooden shafts floating in the crimson water beside the dock.
"Elizabeth get down, lay down now!"
Merie shrilled frantically, her fingers loosening the knots with what felt like excruciatingly-slow progress. When the first rope was free, she turned the nose of the boat downstream and moved to work on the second. With a sound that was half-sob and half exultation, she freed the second and began to push the boat away from the advancing figures. Strength borne of desperation and maternal need lent them speed and Elizabeth peeked back over the side of the boat. The scary men were getting a little further away now. Then Merie gave a shriek and clutched her leg, dropping to one knee in the water. The boat tilted hazardously and Elizabeth gave a cry of alarm, falling back against her mother's hand.
For what seemed like an eternity-but was truly only seconds-Merie gazed at Elizabeth's pale face and she let go of where the crossbow bolt skewered her leg-reaching up to cradle one side of her daughter's face.
"You remember how I said I would take you out on the river, little sprite?"
Elizabeth gave a whimper and took hold of Merie's hand, tugging her to stand. Merie smiled and pushed Elizabeth slightly, toppling her into the bottom of the boat.
"I'm sorry Ellie, I love you."
And with that, she stood-face twisting with agony-and took four mighty running steps. She shoved the boat downstream, nose pointed towards the deeper water and faster current. Then she let go, and the stronger tide pulled her under. Elizabeth squirmed in the bottom of the boat, scrambling to get to the side-but when she did-she saw no more of her mother. The deeper water of the river had caught her vessel now, and it bore her swiftly from the encroaching figures behind. Where arrows had splashed aside the boat and pinged on it's floorboards, they now fell futilely in it's wake. Within minutes, the scary bent figures had disappeared behind a bend in the woods, and Elizabeth sat down, waiting for her mother to come back.
For several minutes more, Elizabeth stared at the bottom of the boat, rapping her knuckles on the wood to distract herself, her breaths coming in impatient sobbing gasps.
But her mother never came;
and every river has an end.
