Hi. Please read and review. Just something I came up with late at night. I
hope you like.
Thanks to Nerdanel for beta reading.
Disclaimer: These characters and places belong to Tolkien's estate.
Idril lay on the cot she and Tuor were sharing, her face towards the wall. She pulled the blankets tighter around her shoulders. The day was warm, but she felt so cold inside. So cold, and so alone. She did not know how far the sun had risen, but for once she did not care. For once she was being selfish.
She had gotten her people this far. She had healed the wounded and mothered the orphans. She had fed the hungry, though their hunger was not always for food. She had gone from elf to elf, making sure they were warm and dry. The whole voyage she had tried to bring what joy she could into hearts that had turned cold, and lonely. Her people called her selfless, and loved her. Yet she did not love herself. She had kept so busy not for them, but for her own sake. When she stopped moving, she started thinking.
She saw the faces of the dead. She saw the bodies strewn about the ground like garbage. She saw the blood, and the flames. She heard the screams and cries of the dying. More than anything, she felt the guilt.
They would not have died if it had not been for her. In her name Maeglin had wrought this, and in her name she no longer found any joy. Her hands, though they had shed no blood, were stained nonetheless. She heard once more the last words of Maeglin.
I did it for you.
For her. For her a city had been destroyed. For her lives had been lost. She could not stand to hear those words. She wanted only blackness, to no longer have to feel, to live. To fade into emptiness. Maeglin, despite what he had done, had been granted death. Life was a far worse punishment.
She had not asked for his devotion, or his love. She did not know why he had given it to her. He had been born in the twilight, and so he had lived, strange and crooked until the end. She had been repulsed by him before this treachery, now she could not even bear the thought of him entering her mind. He was tainted by darkness. Now she was tainted by it as well, never more the pure vision he so desired.
Life felt so dull and broken now, instead of the vibrant joyful thing she had once thought it to be. She could find no solace in anything that had once comforted her. Idril knew she should be thankful that her husband and son were not killed, but she could not be, not after so many others were. Last night she had pretended to be asleep when her husband had reached for her. She could barely look at him anymore. She could barely look at anything.
Her mind thought longingly of the halls of Mandos. She could find peace there. Yet she could not leave her family, and her people. They depended upon her. When it got lighter she would have to get up, and put on her smile. She would tell them how she had had a lovely sleep, and couldn't believe it was so late. Idril would hide her grief behind her smile, and feed her son breakfast. She would go on, and trust that this too would pass.
Thanks to Nerdanel for beta reading.
Disclaimer: These characters and places belong to Tolkien's estate.
Idril lay on the cot she and Tuor were sharing, her face towards the wall. She pulled the blankets tighter around her shoulders. The day was warm, but she felt so cold inside. So cold, and so alone. She did not know how far the sun had risen, but for once she did not care. For once she was being selfish.
She had gotten her people this far. She had healed the wounded and mothered the orphans. She had fed the hungry, though their hunger was not always for food. She had gone from elf to elf, making sure they were warm and dry. The whole voyage she had tried to bring what joy she could into hearts that had turned cold, and lonely. Her people called her selfless, and loved her. Yet she did not love herself. She had kept so busy not for them, but for her own sake. When she stopped moving, she started thinking.
She saw the faces of the dead. She saw the bodies strewn about the ground like garbage. She saw the blood, and the flames. She heard the screams and cries of the dying. More than anything, she felt the guilt.
They would not have died if it had not been for her. In her name Maeglin had wrought this, and in her name she no longer found any joy. Her hands, though they had shed no blood, were stained nonetheless. She heard once more the last words of Maeglin.
I did it for you.
For her. For her a city had been destroyed. For her lives had been lost. She could not stand to hear those words. She wanted only blackness, to no longer have to feel, to live. To fade into emptiness. Maeglin, despite what he had done, had been granted death. Life was a far worse punishment.
She had not asked for his devotion, or his love. She did not know why he had given it to her. He had been born in the twilight, and so he had lived, strange and crooked until the end. She had been repulsed by him before this treachery, now she could not even bear the thought of him entering her mind. He was tainted by darkness. Now she was tainted by it as well, never more the pure vision he so desired.
Life felt so dull and broken now, instead of the vibrant joyful thing she had once thought it to be. She could find no solace in anything that had once comforted her. Idril knew she should be thankful that her husband and son were not killed, but she could not be, not after so many others were. Last night she had pretended to be asleep when her husband had reached for her. She could barely look at him anymore. She could barely look at anything.
Her mind thought longingly of the halls of Mandos. She could find peace there. Yet she could not leave her family, and her people. They depended upon her. When it got lighter she would have to get up, and put on her smile. She would tell them how she had had a lovely sleep, and couldn't believe it was so late. Idril would hide her grief behind her smile, and feed her son breakfast. She would go on, and trust that this too would pass.