Everything here belongs to Tolkien. This deals with if Middle Earth
disappeared and another world took its place. This is Frodo's POV, next
will be Gandalf's, the Legolas's. It's depressing with a bit of hope. Hope
you like it!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As My World Fades
It is the beginning. Or maybe it is the end. The forth age is going, and with it Middle Earth. And here I stand, upon the shores of Gray Havens, and watch as the world I knew fades away, to be replaced by a new one. All that I have known is disappearing, and I cannot do anything about it. Maybe this is what is meant to be. Maybe Middle Earth's time is done, and another needs to be. My heart is breaking; my tears are falling at the thought as I stand here. It is painful to remember what is now being lost. The Shire, Rivendell, Lothlorien, even Gondor is falling. I wonder what has happened to the others. Sam was with me here for a long while, before he passed on. Gandalf tells me that Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, and Gimli are dead. But no word of Legolas. He has not come home to here, but maybe it is not his time.
The far away shore that is far from my site is changing, what was there is now lost. All the elves save one is here, and all of my kind are gone except me, as far as I know. There may be a few left upon the changing land, as there may be some dwarves still alive. But what is there once is gone, and sadly Men have forgotten us. It is painful to think of it. My heart cries out in grief and guilt. Guilt for the fact that I am not there, that I have not followed my people to the beyond. But it is foolish in a way to have guilt. It is not my time, but it shall be soon. Grief for what I have lost, and what is being lost.
Around me the elves are grieving, as well as Gandalf. I can hear their cries of grief ringing through the Havens, and I can feel their sorrow as if it were my own. Somehow I can feel it as Middle Earth collapses and another takes it's place. I can feel the last of the Shire falling to the ground in ruins. I can feel as the trees cover over Lothlorien, until there is nothing left. I can see as Rivendell is crushed and lost under the cliffs that it had been built from. The Gates of Argonath have fallen and the waters have sealed over them. Gondor is gone, lost is the tides of time, and another civilization is built upon it. The past is no more and the forth age passes. And here I stand, granted a life longer then any hobbit has ever had, or will ever have. Nearly three hundred, and I stand here feeling as my world disappears, and I wish I were not alive to feel it. And yet I am here, and I am feeling it.
I pray that Men, who now have Middle Earth, or what is left, shall rebuild and not forget the past. But it is enviable, for the past is gone, and those that remember it are here. All but one, but he will come home some day. I hope that the next world and age be better then the last, that the past will not repeat itself. Please let it not. Oh please don't let it.
I fall to my knees and cover my face with my hands. Tears escape my eyes as I feel the last of Middle Earth collapses, and it feels as if a piece of my heart is torn from me. It hurts more then anything I can remember, then it is gone, like a fire put out. I feel an empty spot within me, and I bitterly cry.
I feel a hand upon my shoulder. I look up to find the solemn face of my friend Gandalf.
"Come, Frodo, it has ended, my friend," he says softly to me as his eyes drift to the far invisible shore.
I nod, for I do not trust my voice as grief stricken as I am. I stand shakily to my feet. I can feel the years upon me, and I know soon that I shall soon follow after my companions and my world.
Gandalf turns to leave, and I follow behind him. But I turn back once more and two things enter my mind. Please don't repeat our mistakes, it nearly cost us our world don't let it cost you yours. And please, Legolas, come home.
With those thoughts, I follow after Gandalf, back to the shelters of the elves. My heart and mind are heavy with grief, but I am glad in some small way for a new beginning.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As My World Fades
It is the beginning. Or maybe it is the end. The forth age is going, and with it Middle Earth. And here I stand, upon the shores of Gray Havens, and watch as the world I knew fades away, to be replaced by a new one. All that I have known is disappearing, and I cannot do anything about it. Maybe this is what is meant to be. Maybe Middle Earth's time is done, and another needs to be. My heart is breaking; my tears are falling at the thought as I stand here. It is painful to remember what is now being lost. The Shire, Rivendell, Lothlorien, even Gondor is falling. I wonder what has happened to the others. Sam was with me here for a long while, before he passed on. Gandalf tells me that Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, and Gimli are dead. But no word of Legolas. He has not come home to here, but maybe it is not his time.
The far away shore that is far from my site is changing, what was there is now lost. All the elves save one is here, and all of my kind are gone except me, as far as I know. There may be a few left upon the changing land, as there may be some dwarves still alive. But what is there once is gone, and sadly Men have forgotten us. It is painful to think of it. My heart cries out in grief and guilt. Guilt for the fact that I am not there, that I have not followed my people to the beyond. But it is foolish in a way to have guilt. It is not my time, but it shall be soon. Grief for what I have lost, and what is being lost.
Around me the elves are grieving, as well as Gandalf. I can hear their cries of grief ringing through the Havens, and I can feel their sorrow as if it were my own. Somehow I can feel it as Middle Earth collapses and another takes it's place. I can feel the last of the Shire falling to the ground in ruins. I can feel as the trees cover over Lothlorien, until there is nothing left. I can see as Rivendell is crushed and lost under the cliffs that it had been built from. The Gates of Argonath have fallen and the waters have sealed over them. Gondor is gone, lost is the tides of time, and another civilization is built upon it. The past is no more and the forth age passes. And here I stand, granted a life longer then any hobbit has ever had, or will ever have. Nearly three hundred, and I stand here feeling as my world disappears, and I wish I were not alive to feel it. And yet I am here, and I am feeling it.
I pray that Men, who now have Middle Earth, or what is left, shall rebuild and not forget the past. But it is enviable, for the past is gone, and those that remember it are here. All but one, but he will come home some day. I hope that the next world and age be better then the last, that the past will not repeat itself. Please let it not. Oh please don't let it.
I fall to my knees and cover my face with my hands. Tears escape my eyes as I feel the last of Middle Earth collapses, and it feels as if a piece of my heart is torn from me. It hurts more then anything I can remember, then it is gone, like a fire put out. I feel an empty spot within me, and I bitterly cry.
I feel a hand upon my shoulder. I look up to find the solemn face of my friend Gandalf.
"Come, Frodo, it has ended, my friend," he says softly to me as his eyes drift to the far invisible shore.
I nod, for I do not trust my voice as grief stricken as I am. I stand shakily to my feet. I can feel the years upon me, and I know soon that I shall soon follow after my companions and my world.
Gandalf turns to leave, and I follow behind him. But I turn back once more and two things enter my mind. Please don't repeat our mistakes, it nearly cost us our world don't let it cost you yours. And please, Legolas, come home.
With those thoughts, I follow after Gandalf, back to the shelters of the elves. My heart and mind are heavy with grief, but I am glad in some small way for a new beginning.