Grief is not the only geography I know by Himring  

Grief is not the only geography I know

I sat on a bench alone in the golden light of Laurelin, realizing what a silence had fallen on me, even in the city of the bells. I had nodded along when Ingwe had explained his reasons for removing from Tirion. But now it came to it, they were not mine and, really, I had just thought it wise to be farther away from Finwe. And now I found myself away, without having arrived anywhere else. I could not even speak of it to anyone—my family were no rule-benders.

But need I stay? Our people were wanderers after all…

I set out on a long arc that, for anyone who had eyes to see, was at first merely designed to avoid Tirion while periodically returning to Valmar to reassure Ingwe and Ilwen. But soon my path became more purposeful. I walked among forests yet little known to the Eldar, where listening to the susurrus of the leaves invoke old memories and the patter of oncoming rain gave me back my voice. I sang as I walked. And when I encountered fellow travellers and made new friends, I found that, after all, neither laughter nor pleasure were lost to me.

Chapter End Notes

I did not check beforehand (or remember) which pieces the Title Track prompts belong to.

The first drabble was otherwise written mainly for ths Insta-drabbling four--word prompt: golden, light, speak, alone.

The second drabble was otherwise written mainly for the poetry prompt: "like half-formed memory / or like the coming rain", also using some of the original context in Jan Schreiber's poem The Road to Nowhere.

The title was taken from another prompt and comes from Greensickness, by Laurel Chen.