A memory of a story from long ago by AdmirableMonster  

A journey

With thanks to Himring for the prompt: "Your prompt is: someone goes on a long journey or, possibly, a journey that seems long to them, even if others may not consider it so. (Completely metaphorical journeys also count.)"

The girl grew up and left behind her blanket.  Beautiful though it was, there were many beautiful things in the gardens of the gods, and it was easily forgotten. One day, a young Elf grew cold sitting long hours beside the empty body of his mother, and a passing Maia wrapped the blanket about his shoulders.  He fell asleep beneath it, small head pillowed on a little hand, and so his father found him. The blanket journeyed with him to his home, and there it was forgotten again, for there were many pretty things in a prince’s house, as well.