Time continued to pass, slowly stealing away the precious moments of life that the race of men are supposed to hold so dear; and yet, Addie didn’t seem to notice much or care that it was slipping away. The paper atop the wooden board that crossed her lap remained pristine, untouched by the ink that had already dried on the tip of the pen she held over it. She had tried several times over the past few days to write to her friends Maddoct, Bíld, Maurr and Byrge- letters that were long overdue- but the words just wouldn’t come. She was worried over their wellbeing and wanted to know that they were safe and happy, but what if they wished to know the same of her? What was she to say to them?
As she stared down at the paper, multiple conversations and scenarios played through her mind- ones that hadn’t actually occurred, but had been created by her own thinking as she tried to reason out and prepare herself for what she would say and how they might react. She feared Maurr finding out the most; he had once been wary of her due to her involvement in Kithri and Lincoln’s disappearances and had warned her not to bring any harm to Maddoct or Bíld. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she thought about how his initial instincts of her were correct; if there had been any doubt of her being a danger to those around her, a harbinger of death and destruction, it certainly had been made clear now and she didn’t wish to bring harm to any others- perhaps she should stay away from them.
With that being resolved in her mind, Addie placed the pen down on the board next to the paper and looked out over the water. She could feel the tug of the wind gently rustling the white sheet underneath her hands and closed her eyes to welcome its caress through her hair and on her face. She could relate to the wind in some ways; though it seemed gentle enough now, it had the power to be chaotic and destructive. It was a force that was free to stir as it wished and often left things scattered or broken in the wake of its howling fury. Yet, it had its determined path, even if there were infinite possible directions, and that is where she differed.
She felt…lost. She didn’t know where to go or what to do next; she was afraid to even move, scared of what she might do or what could happen. In their last conversation, Nethrida had mentioned the possibility of Mans seeking to take control of her mind and her body, and that was her worst fear. She had never been physically strong nor was she very capable with a blade or other typical weapons of war, but she had always prided herself on her mind and the ability to think of other ways to take control of a situation- a mind that she had already lost control of twice now to fell spirits. If she couldn’t safeguard that, how could she ever hope to master the other ability she had been gifted or rather cursed with?
Tears began to stream down her face- tears of sorrow, tears of shame, and tears of anger. She had allowed herself to be tempted by the darkness, she had been the one to think of ways to deceive her friends into aiding her purpose, and she had been the one to be used by that fell spirit to bring about his release. Mans had turned her wishes to see her father and speak with him again against her, and now she was left with the guilt of knowing that her father would be disappointed in her.
Addie opened her eyes and looked up to the sky; she then turned her gaze toward the ground before finally deciding to look back across the open sea- in truth, she didn’t know where to look to speak to him; after experiencing what she had believed to be death in the realm of Calidis’ memories, she questioned if there even was a Hall of Mandos. Even so, she hoped that he could still hear her.
“Faeder,” she cried out, the tears flowing even more freely down her cheeks, “I haven’t been the daughter that you would be proud of, one that would bring honor to your name. I am sorry for the mistakes that I have made, for being weak enough to allow my mind to be swayed by the evil which you so bravely fought against. Instead of being strong and patient enough to bring the one responsible for your death to justice, I acted foolishly and had to flee. I’ve let anger and hatred cloud my judgment, but I don’t know how to let those things go nor can I say that I wish to. Is it so wrong to wish vengeance on those that harm others? I still struggle with this question and I wish that you could give me the answer.
I want nothing more in this life than to be like you, Faeder- to be someone who stands for those that can’t stand on their own, to always have a kind and encouraging word even when all others only see fault, and to be someone that can make any situation better. But, I only end up making matters worse; I have brought harm to those I care about and have acted selfishly. I have tried to do what’s right since you’ve been gone, but I know I have done many things which you wouldn’t be proud of. I am sorry.
You always loved me unconditionally, but I would understand if you couldn’t offer me forgiveness this time. I want to promise you that it will never happen again, but I am afraid of not being able to keep that promise. I fear others placing their trust in me and I fear myself. Though my soul has once again been set free to fly with the ravens, I still feel trapped. Perhaps I am not ready or able to face things on my own without you, Faeder; your little girl still needs you to be her rock.”
The paper had now been written on, not in words with ink to her dwarven friends, but with a message of tears to her father. And even though she would never receive a tangible response from him, her mind did drift to a song he always used to sing to her when she needed encouragement, a song that could often be heard among the Riders of Rohan:
“Sindon we bald, sindon we strang, Eorlingas fram ond trum. Sindon we bald, sindon we strang, Eorlingas arë lang.”
It was a song that should have brought her hope, but it only served to deepen the pain. She may have been free, but she wasn’t standing tall in glory nor did she feel that she was capable of offering any strong resistance to a foe; in fact, she still had initials carved into her side to serve as a very clear reminder of that. Addie hated those letters and she despised herself for not being able to stop the one that had put them there. He had left her for dead and in that weakened state another had come along to kidnap and torture her, one that worked for the slavers which ultimately led them to Mans in Kheledûl.
Perhaps the song had given her some direction after all. If she wanted to fly again, she would need to repair her broken wing… and maybe the first step to doing that was to rid herself of these initials.
