Elwing cradeled the Simaril in her pale, trembling hands. Tears streamed frm her cloudy eyes and landed on its glowing surface, causing the lights within to shine yet brighter, reflecting in a myriad of colors which danced across her sorrowful face. Her long silver hair whipped about her slender body in a violent sea wind, carrying to her the cries and screams of the lust and death of battle.
She refused the urge to look behind her, knowing what she would find. The charred and broken remains of her home, her kindred lying dead on the streets, the fires of hate burning, the shadow of anger and pain, the loss, the sorrow... she looked down at the shining stone and cursed its existence. So many lost, those that were not born to die, brough to a bitter end by greed and lust. So many lives, for what?
For what? What could this thing possess that could ever equal the worth of even one of the lives taken fighting for possession of it? Not even one. Her silver eyes shut slowly. It seemed so worthless to her now, even as it lay, beautiful beyond words, within her hands.
"Elros...Elrond..." she whispered the names of her sons, falling to her knees as hurt and the deep ache to hold them flooded through her in a desperate, clawing wave. "Eli nin." They had been her stars, her hope, with their father's dark, nearly black tresses, and her own stormy grey eyes. They had been lost from her during the fighting, and as she wept for the broken city, she kept little hope that they sill lived.
She gazed despondantly across the ocean, feeling like she could remain here for all eternity, never stirring, lost in cold pain, waiting for her love. Earendil was gone, gone perhaps forever. He had left her, and now she was alone, with the pain, nothing but the pain. She would wait here, and he would never return.
She heard voices and stumbled to her feet, turning her back to the cliff that plummeted straight down into the sea far below. A host had broken throuh and now approached her, victory shining in their eyes. A thought, a small thing, somehow scraped all the broken pieces inside together, giving her solace. She raised her chin, defiance chasing away the grief and strickening pain, ignighting a sharp flash in their tumultuous depths. They had taken everything from her, and she would take everything from them.
She took half a step back, clutching the simaril to her breast. One of the elves stepped forward, blood streaked his long blade, spattered on his clothing and his face, triumphant. He held out his hand, and she shook her head involuntarily. He raised the sword, and she bristled. Everything, he had taken everything, and he would take her. With no remorse, no mercy, he would take her own life from her.
Despair flooded Elwing. My love, where are you? Are you yet living? I shall never look upon you again. I wish to hold you close, plant a last kiss upon your lips to last for all eternity. Feel your arms around me one more time and protect me from the pain, chase away the grief with your love. To cry with you, to have someone to care for me in my hurt, for I have lost everything, and now I shall lose you.
They were closing in, getting closer, predators. Prey, she was nothing more then prey. An object to be hunted, destroyed. Tears, the world was cold, with no mercy. Like their eyes, stone and fire and darkness and brilliancy. Cruel and beautiful. Like the whispering gem in her hand, shining, cursing. Her vision was lost for a moment as her lids slid shut, a stolen moment of peace, then shot back open.
She released the breath fluttering in her lungs, and felt the cold air rush back into them. They were close, so close. Now, there was no time. Earendil... you did not come for me. I love you, my heart. May the Valar bring these thoughts to you in your dreams in days to come, murmurings in the breeze like breaths upon your skin. But I must leave this world, and you within it. My life is taken of me.
Farewell....