Northstar Vale I'm gonna be free & I'm gonna be fine; but baby not tonight

Why love him?  “Uniyë.”  You have had to discover so much in solitude. ...His absence, for one. Her heart: muscle and sinew. You gave him your first litter. Her heart: metal and glass. You would have given several litters if it meant giving him a happiness. Her heart: it was other things and broken, a third time, so assured that each fracture had been by her own indelicate acts. 

As late midsommar bled into the early harvest, with it is the dawning upon Aurëwen’s melancholia is that her heart, too, would mend. His last words had entreated her to give up — give up all that she’d been sure she’d felt so thoroughly. Perhaps, then, she had been hoodwinking herself into such affections: that they may arise, might arrive, had she been more singular, more ... pertinent. Sensible, as she’d once been, when she’d first brought herself to him, womb brimming with those they’d grown together.

Aure forgets, as she is heady with wont to do, why she has returned to the Vale. But airgetlám will not forget another soul, another heart which she perceives has been forsaken in very much the same manner — so she proffers a misted chirrup to the peak-fell female, and does not make a smile gentle her worn, shorn facade. Wonders how to speak, and finds her chords unstrung.