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[nerdanel_the_wise]

It's quiet as she sits on the bed, her back propped comfortably with multiple pillows. She has a sketch pad in her hands as she draws rapidly.

She had been doing it for hours.

One sketch book had been discard, already full.

It had been centuries since she had last picked up anything to create art with, and now she couldn't create enough...

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[nerdanel_the_wise]

She gets up long enough to put the baby in the bassinet beside the bed (giving her a little ducky to toss about), then comes back to take Gorlim into her arms... as close as she can with Feaho in her way.

"Would you like to know a confession of mine?" she asks quietly. "There are nights when I lay in the bathtub, the water scalding hot, and simply weep until there is simply nothing left in me to bleed out. It takes all I have when I am done to fall into bed." She kisses his temple. "Sometimes, pain has only one release: tears. And that is not weak. That is mortal. We are not gods. We are not stone."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim sighs and sort of deflates in her arms. He closes his eyes and sings quietly, to her and to her... his... their son.


We are not made of stone
We’re half way there and half way gone.
We bend and we believe
In the strength of the light in the signs we receive.
And we are not careful clear,
We struggle on from year to year,
But I’m not alone
In the force of this wildest unknown
For she is the deepest part of me,
She is the deepest part of me.

We do not have the truth to tell,
Some have flown while others fell,
And what seemed to be right
Now darkens our way and clouds in our sight.
And we do not have the eyes to see
The magic and the mystery,
And the place that they fill
That allows us to sleep so silent and still.

And when resolution seems so far away.
Time always turns into the light of the day.

And see me when I lose the place,
Stumble blindly fall from grace.
We’re filled with the need
To shout out aloud, to follow, to lead,
And we are not made of stone,
We’re halfway here and half way gone,
But we bend and believe
In the strength of the light and the signs we receive.

But I’m not alone
In the force of this wildest unknown,
For she is the deepest part of me,
She is the deepest part of me.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

She listens, enjoying the timbre of his voice and the words themselves. When he is done, she sits there for a while, listening to Kelly in the bassinet, to their joined breathing, to their heartbeats.

"There is a lot of pain," she says. "But you are right. You are not alone. Not by a long shot. Mandos loves you dearly still, as evidence by that stone. I love you you deeply. Your wife, your friends. You are never alone, broken bird. You are lucky in that, even when it does feel as if you are."

What she now sings is, perhaps, her only view on how the father of her child may feel -- and, maybe, how the Man at her side might feel.

She sees him laying in the bed alone tonight
The only thing a touching him is a crack of light
Pieces of her hair are wrapped around and 'round his fingers
And he reaches for her side, for any sign of her that lingers

And she says you are not alone
Laying in the light
Put out the fire in your head
And lay with me tonight

One of them bullets went straight for the jugular vein
There were people running , a flash of light
Then everything changed
Nothing really matters in the end you know
All the worrys sever
Don't be afraid for me my friend, one day we all fall down forever

And you are not alone
Laying in the light
Put out the fire in your head
And lay with me tonight

The wedding date was June just like any other bride
She loved him like no one before and it was good to be alive
But sometimes that can slip away as fast
As any fingers through your hands
So you let time forgive the past and go and make some other plans

And you are not alone
Laying in the light
Put out the fire in your head
And lay with me tonight

She knows it is about death. It was the first verse that always cut her deep. The man's lady is gone from him, and all he has is a painful memory of the one who laid beside him.

Sometimes...

Sometimes...

Sometimes memories hurt worse than anything else, for there are still moments, in the night, she wakes and reaches for Feanáro... and still feels a sharp pain of loss.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim won't let himself cry. He CAN'T and he hates himself for it. He doesn't want to do that to her, not to her. But he can't speak, either. He turns onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, wide eyes tinged with silver.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

Her smile is gentle as she brushes her fingers through his hair.

"'Pain shared is pain halved'", she quotes softly.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim smiles. The movement causes two tears to break free and slip down his cheeks. He wipes them away roughly.

"Thank you, Nana. You sing so beautifully." He sniffs and scrubs his eyes with his sleeves.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

"It is on the iPod Mandos gifted me with. A lovely song, though it is sad."

She tilts her head, running fingers over brow and cheeks.

"Many times, we forget we are not alone. And we need that ghostly voice to remind us that there are arms and shoulders and soft words and welcoming arms. Second chances, forgiveness, love."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim scoots against her, and burrows his face into her shoulder, his arms around her, letting his tears bleed themselves out silently. Just a few moments. Just a few moments with her.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

It is the purpose of a mother's shoulder, of her arms. To hold her children, to hold them tight through heartbreak and smiles.

So she rocks softly, holding home to her, her quiet, loving presence his for as long as he needs her.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

After a few minutes, he gently parts from her, sits up, finds his handkerchief to blow his nose and scrub his cheeks, which now look red and rough. He goes to fetch his daughter from her bassinet and returns to his nana's side, the baby in his lap. He kisses her brow.

There are no words. Just...

I love you, nana.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

She mimicks the act, kissing his brow.

And I you, ionen.

It is, indeed, her voice in his mind, copper-warm and fleeting, like a summer breeze.

"I was wondering," she says softly, "if you would mind if I took care of the poppet for a day. A dear friend of mine is pregnant and terrified of babies, having no experience with them. I would like to show her how to change nappies, how to bathe and care for an infant."

And spending time with Kelly was just a bonus, of course.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"Yes, of course you can have her for a day!" Gorlim grins. "Who is your friend?"

[nerdanel_the_wise]

"Her name is Shufti. She is but a child herself, but she is near her time and so frightened." She tickles Kelly's chin. "I thought this beautiful girl would do her some good."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"Who could fail to fall in love with a lass like Kelly?"

He sniffs again and rubs his nose with a sleeve, pulling his daughter up to his chest. "When would you like her?"

[nerdanel_the_wise]

"Whenever it is good for you," she says. "She is usually in the bar everyday, so we have no need for it to be tomorrow or even the next day if you would like to wait."

She memorizes pose of father and daughter for her next sketch. Yes.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Another sniffle, another deep breath. He kisses Kelly's head.

"Just tell me when you want her, then."

[nerdanel_the_wise]

She chuckles.

"Love, you act as if I wish to snatch her, the way you cling."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"Well, didn't you, with your children?" he asks, a snatch of laughter in his voice.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

"Very true," she admits with a chuckle. "Though by the fifth, I think I would have paid someone to take them out for the day and leave me in peace."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim sniffs again as he laughs.

"Curse this nose," he mumbles. "That's what I'd like peace from! I'll not be able to breathe properly for an hour now."

It's how Beren had always known when he'd been crying. And the others... they knew. They knew something was wrong. Or suspected. And they let him keep his lies. It hurt all the more to know they must have suspected SOMETHING, if only that his heart was broken beyond repair.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

Nerdanel smiles with understanding, brushing back his hair and making goofy faces at Kelly.

Then she plucks the child from her father's hands and motions to one of the sketch pads closest to him -- the one that was full.

"It seems my art muse has returned," she says.

If Gorlim looks through the book, he will find perfectly rendered images of Mandos, of himself, of both of them, of Lee, of Shufti and Mal, of her own children at all various stages of growth, of Kelly, and various other people. At the back are two tigers, curled close, one pale, one shaded.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim chirps as his daughter is plucked away, but leans forward for the sketchbook. He flips through it, wide-eyed, sniffling at intervals.

"Oh, these are beautiful. I did not know you could draw."

He stops at the picture of Lee. And at ones of himself with Namo. His face is not turned towards Nerdanel, but his sniffling becomes noticibly more frequent as he looks through the book.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

"I can draw, paint, sculpt, build, even perform the duties of a blacksmith," she remarks, not drawing attention to his sniffling. "At the moment, sculpting is not an option, so I sketch. And I do best with what I know and see each day."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"I make carvings," Gorlim recites, his voice a little shaky. "From wood." ...duh. Sniff. Pageflip. Sniff.





...chirp.

[nerdanel_the_wise]

She wonders if he has found the dove nested with the heron.

"I did not become adept at woodcarving, though I can make simple animal shapes. Nothing more elaborate. Perhaps you will show me your creations sometime," she says hopefully. "Maybe after the baby comes and we have hours to pass."