Your long hair

Falling beside your head

Your beautiful face

Now at rest

Your soft breath

Touching my skin

Your slender body

Near and warm

Your delicate fingers

Resting on me

Your long legs

Curled around mine

I cannot rest

I cannot but look

You’re close to me

In many a way

The cold is inside me now. Though I wear the beautiful cloak he gifted to me, I am a numb thing. An icemaiden. The night is old, moves its weary way to its inevitable end. I have no pity for it and no interest.

He is gone to his own solitude and I am encased in mine. I tried to sleep, a pain in my chest awoke me, an icicle as sharp as a betrayal. I see it now he is gone, what I have done. The first steps of the oathbreaker. I am horrified at myself, look at my own hands writing, loathing them as they move and record my own folly.

The message were filling the air tonight..
A flower were fading away..
A shadow appeared, stealing the light..
The fairest of them all
had to give in to this fight...

So faithful to the end..
Gave strenght to those around..
The petals were embracing,
A replacement can not be found...
The first lady is lost, will not be forgotten

Navaer...

A flock of crows circled the sky overhead.
Looking up at them from her hiding place under the hazel bushes shielding the hillside from unfriendly eyes, the elf frowned. Spies... searching, circling. For whom or what?

((Another tale from Nimlith's past.))

       "..Beyond all danger and cruelty of the world, Falathlorn was having a serene morning... Battles, fires and the darkness of the enemy were still far away. Goblins were pushed back to their holes long ago. Travellers and free peoples could be able to pass through the great eastern road without harassment. Awakening of evil in the east was a distant rumour, and the black riders were nothing more than a tale for its inhabitants.