It had only taken one word for her to slowly unravel.
Moria.
Her mother had died there. She had quickly faded away the moment she felt that half of her heart had gone and departed from this sphere. No one was there to comfort her and the fearful cries and whispers of hundreds of refugees were probably the last things for her to ever hear before her spirit broke free... Calidhriel the songstress had died within the darkness of Khazad-dûm where the stars could not be seen.
And her daughter could not be there for her.
- - -
Calidis watched the sun rise up above the hills surrounding the Valley as she stood close to the relentless mist of water created by one of the many waterfalls in Imladris; a favorite spot of hers when walking. She allowed the water to dampen her hair, her clothes, her face... And she felt rejuvenated, as if all the unpleasantness and personal failings of the previous day were being washed away, leaving behind only the more pleasant things that had occured behind. It is enough. Today was a new day entirely.
She turned on her heel and began to walk back to her rooms, not caring overly much who saw her soaked and slightly disheveled state. She would go back and change into another dress - grey like all the others. She would comb her hair, collect her books, and step back out again. And, of course, she would remember to clasp her father's jewel about her neck, for, even still, she felt a bit fragile in spirit.
Yes, today was a new day and Calidis would try again.
