She felt so small in her bed. Her daughter always provided warmth in her heart. Sicarra is an old soul in a young body. But a single trip to Bree-town. Opened her eyes to what she could not have or contain. A life of dormancy. A life of complete 'safety' is impossible. Trials are her dearest friend. And she wanted to conquer every last one of them. But why then did she feel so small? So vulnerable at this moment? She has seen only twenty-one years in Middle-Earth. She is a Mother. It was not uncommon at home to have young mothers. So many things in her life happened. That she was not ready for. Yet, Salin, Salin is and was a miracle to her. The Dunlending fell into a dreamless sleep when she returned to camp. However, it wouldn't be for long. An hour at the very least. Until she woke up again. This time her daughter did not wake up. The phantom came again. The night is a haven of dark things. Sicarra knew though, that not everything dark was dangerous. Darkness and light, are two forces that could never exist without the other. She believed that there is a balance to all things. Chaos and order. They blended well together.
She often drew strength from chaos and clarity from order. This time the phantom's voice said 'Do you remember the story? Of Nertho and her many children? Anything that was requested of her. She would do. She knew the value of our traditions. Her obedience was enough to begin a nation of her own. Your mother did not know her place. She never knew her place. Nethro never took oaths to foreign kings. From the very beginning. She knew what was expected of her. What are you going to do next little fox? I am watching you. Once so small, so sick, in the hand of your Mother. But here you are today. Bearing only one child. Why did you leave us? Why didn't you let him keep you? There was potential and perhaps there still is. It seems my wisdom fails you. Even in death. Was my love not enough for you?'
A tide is turning, she could feel it, and it lit a fire inside of her. But a fire that she feared. Something she hoped to keep dormant until the appropriate time. Why couldn't Nan be quiet? Nana was never known for her patience. The world they both lived in was not one of definitive absolutes. Morally gray is the order of the day in Dunland. It is why the west saw them as barbarians and wild men. She never denied the nature of her people. But she always sought to harness that nature. To show that like all peoples in Middle-Earth there is more to them than meets the eye. She was recently accused of being a silly girl. That was a compliment compared to some of the other terms that could be used to describe her.
She has begun to finally trust and understand her own mind. Her own truth. She isn't a madwoman. Frothing at the mouth. She is sane, completely, utterly sane. The truth has a way of setting others free. Truth isn't always kind or pleasant. But it puts many things to rest.
