A Man Who Flies From His Fear May Find He Has Only Taken A Shortcut To Meet It by LadySternchen  

Small, Closed Spaces- Celebrían

A gush of wind blows the door shut, plunging the small pantry into darkness. Celebrían wants to scream, but no words escape her. She cannot move, cannot turn around. The walls are closing in on her, and she stretches out her arms to hold the crushing walls off. The rough stone feels wet, and there is a terrible stench in the air. She is trapped, and she cannot get out. She will never get out again.

Then the door opens, and at the first creak of the door, her body tenses so much that it takes away her ability to breathe. They are back again, with their knives and their glowing irons and their lusting.

The light that now illuminates the room and paints her shadow against the wall is warm,  though, and kind.

The boys have come. Her boys.

“Celebrían” someone calls her gently.

Not her sons. And no orc. Slowly, the pieces are falling into place again.

“Celebrían,”her grandmother tries again gently, carefully placing her hand on Celebrían’s shoulder and guiding her to turn around “Dear, are you alright?”

“I… I…” Celebrían quakes like a little child, her voice high-pitched “I wanted to… to prove to myself that I could enter the pantry, and get the apples myself. But then… then…”

Eärwen pulls her into her arms, warm and comforting.

“You are not in Endórë anymore, Celebrían. This is Aman. You are safe. I am here.”