Envandiel stepped from the Hall of Fire and let the door slam shut, her cheeks hot with Noldorin fury. The cold air outside the last Homely House hit her face and she drew her cloak tighter as she walked towards home.
Breathing in the scent of the trees calmed her somewhat as she walked along the familiar paths up the hill towards her small home, and her gaze turned to the stars, remembering the words of the light-touched Lord Aurandel.
“Do not lose Hope and Faith in Eru. His will demands that all evils shall turn to good in the end.”
“Hope…” She whispered the word into the trees, her breath forming a cloud in the frosty air. “But what is my purpose yet? To remain, wearying? The future seems dark and uncertain. And the past, yet darker.”
The mocking tones of the kinslayer rang in her mind and her fists clenched.
“Tagalongs such as you had a hard time of it.”
“Bloodless Quende.”
“I have no interest in mere trinkets, 'lady'.”
“‘Mirdain’ indeed.”
“Pah!” She threw an angry look back at the Homely House before rounding the turn and leaving it behind her view. “How shall one let go and find peace when such as that seek to mock me with my pain and remind me of it -- and of their own cruelty -- at every turn?”
Then the tears sprang again to her eyes, though she fought them back, and she stared up at the stars. “How…?”
But even as she stared up at the silent stars, an old hymn slipped past the wall of pain into her mind and she found herself singing softly as she walked.
A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath,
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!
Na-chaered palan-díriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aear, sí nef aearon!*
As she finished the last words, her steps brought her to her door, and she opened it to find Iarrill waiting by the fireplace. She knelt and gathered the kitten into her arms, burying her face in its soft fur.
Jeweled and metal models of Gondolin and Tirion sparkled at her from the door to the small forge-room but she turned her head from them to look out the window at the stars.
“I cling to hope, yet I cannot keep on alone.”
*J. R. R. Tolkien, The Return of the King, "The Grey Havens"
