Work Text:
The smell of rain was soft in the air, carrying the promise of things unspoken, yearned for. Tugging her cloak more tightly round her, she urged the mare down the hillside. Weary to her bones with despair, and the exhaustion of many days hard travel, overwhelmed. Feeling years too young for such a trial, and yet old enough to know it was hers alone to endure, she took a moment to breathe, and gather her strength.
In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out…. the clean, wet, smells of unfamiliar flowers, of sweat, of leather and horse. Adjusting her grip on the sleeping bundle in front of her, she raised her eyes, and looked forward.
They had come into the valley now, where before there had been mist, and ever more trees, now stood the home of their host. Imladris, Rivendell, the last homely house, realm of Elrond Half-Elven. She had never felt so far away from home. The master of the house had come down the wide stone steps to greet them, bid them welcome.
She met his gaze, proudly, struck at once by the kindness and compassion she found there. Warm silver gray met her own careworn blue, promising safety, security, a home. She allowed him to remove the sleeping boy from her arms, planted her feet on the flagstones, and felt for the first time in many days, hope.