Eira

Unexpected as you were

You are my beloved

I am frightened and unsure

But you are my rising sun

I cannot wait to finally meet you

You are precious to me, cherished to me

I will always protect you, through and through

I will guide you and help you to see

Every second you are in my thoughts

Precious twins, my heart you consume

I will make mistakes, but I am not distraught

I will forever and always love you

This world is gorgeous, I will show you how

She continued to dust the shelves of the empty, newly repaired house. As she did do, she thought to herself, over and over...

She could not do this anymore. She was useless, standing by while her loved ones got hurt or were put in danger. She even accidentally contributed to some hurts herself. Last night had been the last straw, and she chose to flee for the protection of her babies.

Eira yawned, awakening in her bed. A half finished drape laid across her lap. She was still wearing her dress from yesterday. With a sigh, she tiredly pulled the drape close to her and continued to sew it. Natural sunlight peered in through the windows. The carpeted blue floor was bathed in rays of the sun as Eira continued working on the drape. She just had to fall asleep at the very last one....

Syllea woke late in the afternoon. She looked around, hoping Eira might still be there. Of course, she wasn’t. "That would be silly," she thought to herself. Syl then remembered the apple pie Eira had brought the night before that she had never eaten. It was gone from her bedside. She frowned, then muttered, “Why do these women always have to move my stuff?”

She hurt the friends she wanted to help.

She scared Demlemoth with her twins.

She scared Egfor with her anger.

"You deserve someone better."

The words of that flirtatious woman in the Pony haunted her. Eira shuddered, shaking in her dream and extending her scarred, bloated hand to the man she had given her heart too.

"Please," She begged, facing the hurt and angry Angmarim before her, "Don't go..."

Nimraph scoffed, hurt and bitter, "How could you yell at me like that? You know it hurts! And lash out at the boys too! My sons mean more to me than anything and you hurt them too!"

Walking down the dilapidated, ransacked streets of Millshaw, a couple held hands as they conversed in the night. Both hooded and cloaked, Nimraph and Eira walked through the small town. Passing some sprawled out scrap wood from the orc raids, Eira tried to distract herself from the destruction by asking, "How did a cookbook wind up in your library?"

She spoke in a light, amused tone. Deep down, however, she did not like the idea of going to that library.

The corpse of a Black Numenorean lieutenant laid at her feet. Blood puddled around her, on the cold steel floor of the infirmary. Walking in for a regular inspection, she had overheard one guard speaking in disgust over her half-Nurnhoth heritage. That simply could not stand. She did not let it stand. She grinned, fire in her eyes as she looked upon to the other soldiers in the room.

Eira placed her third finished shepherd's pie on the counter. She pulled her oven mit off, reaching up and wiping her forehead. Cooking during the blazing heat of summer was certainly not a good idea. Yet, she had pushed through and made three delicious meals for the workers of Millshaw. Not only had she made three shepherd's pies for everyone, but she also baked her blueberry muffins, which were starting to gain infamy for their deliciousness.

Eira's mother was alive.

Eira's mother was here.

Eira's mother loved her.

Eira's mother was happy that she had abandoned Mordor.

Eira awoke from her sleep in Nimraph's arms. Adjusting herself a bit, cuddling closer to him, Eira looked back on her emotionally charged yesterday. She had opened up to Egfor and his mother, Gwawrr, about some of the painful parts of her life in Gorgoroth. Then when they returned to Demlemoth's Estate, she was startled by the sudden appearance of her mother.