Whimsies by Grundy

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Waiting


There had been a time when Anairë of the Noldor had delighted in visits to Alqualondë. She had spent many days there in the company of her dear friend and law-sister Eärwen, with or without their children. The Sea had been a comfort then. But that had been before. Before her husband promised to follow his brother’s madness. Before blood had stained the quays. Before her children and husband had marched away on the Ice. Before she could no longer meet the Ciriáran’s eyes. Before the Sea became painful, as the wait for word – good or ill – dragged out interminably.


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