Anneth has long clung to her dreams, though sorrow has threatened to murder them again and again. There was a time when sorrow made her hopes only sweeter, but as Sauron grows yet stronger in the East, she feels everything she has ever held dear fal...
For surely there is an end; and thine expectation shall not be cut off.
- Proverbs 23:18
Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.
- William Shakespeare
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They had grown up together, a pair destined for one another. The two had always known, from the very moment the notion of romantic love was made known to them. The moment she knew of marriage, she knew she would marry him, and he - her.
Of course fear and pride kept them from revealing such knowledge, and a few years passed before either of them revealed the feelings that weighed heavily in the mind. It had been Voronwe who first revealed his love, hands shaking uncontrollably and heart pounding beneath his ribs. Blushing, Lindeth had taken his hands in hers and told of her own feelings. They were betrothed that day.
Another year went by before they could be married, for soon the First War of the Ring broke out and separated the two.
Voronwe was called on to join Imladris' ranks, not unlike other young ellyn who in any other situation would have waited before choosing to join the army. Lindeth remained in the Hidden Valley, safe, worried sick, not knowing what news the next day could bring, what terrible harbinger would bear her the news she wished to never hear. But by the grace of Eru, that harbinger never came, and the War was won. Her soldier returned a hero, and they were married.
Lindeth never would forget the days she spent waiting for him. Awaiting his return, awaiting the victory of the forces of good, and dreading the possibility that the war should go ill and evil prevail.
But they had been destined for one another, and Voronwe's destiny was not to perish in that War, but to return victorious with the men he had begun to call his brothers. War had changed him, made him a hero, but Lindeth saw no difference. She was far too drunk with happiness to even realise her betrothed had become a small hero.
When she finally did realise, however, she merely shrugged and remarked about how she only cared that he was alive and with her.
Those months were unforgettable, and not in a pleasant way at all. Those days had changed her, just as they changed her soldier. It was terrible, as scorching fire, a brand to test their strength, to test and strengthen their love. Through it, they both were made better, stronger, for not all fire destroys.
And perhaps such dark times bring not only destruction, but renewal as well.
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