Jubilee by polutropos

Nurture

Caranthir passes through scorched Thargelion and leaves behind a sign of hope.

The journey to Himring will take them through Thargelion. Since his defeat, Caranthir’s dreams have been haunted by images of his ruined lands. He hoped never to look upon them again; never to face his failure. But Maedhros has called them to war.

He has carried the little shrub, one known for its resilience, in his saddle bag all the way from Ossiriand, settled in a clump of soil and peeking out to catch the sunlight. It bloomed along the way. Amrod teased him for it, but Caranthir paid him no mind. Amrod had not even come into the world the last time Caranthir had sunk his hands into the dirt. He had loved to nurture, once.

It is worse than his imaginings: the landscape scraped clear of life by Glaurung’s breath. Caranthir slides down from his horse, stoops and takes a handful of the soil. It is rich and healthy. With bare hands, he hollows out a pit, a place that will invite the rains to gather. Amrod and Amras keep their distance, mercifully silent.

At last he sets the shrub into its new home, patting the soil around its tender roots. A breeze flutters its soft pink blossoms, and Caranthir prays to whatever power might hear him that it will grow strong; that they will be victorious, and Thargelion will bloom again.