Chapter 1: Tell Me Your Story
"Tell me your story." She begs each day as she brings me food, though I have need of it no longer. Each day I gently refuse with a smile, for I have not the energy for the tale. The task that the Fellowship will soon carry and the burden a young hobbit already bears, wear too heavily upon my mind; my spirit, for me to be able to concentrate on anything but my task.
"Tell me your story, let me carry some of your burden," she pleads with me each night as she covers my crippled, wasted body with thick comforters and removes the pillows that support my weakened body so that I might rest, should my concentration of the Fellowship, of the Elves, of the Middle-earth wane as they sleep.
As they succumb to their bodies' need for sleep, I find my watch over them relax, less attentive to their needs and emotions as they sleep deeply; and I too am able to rest, though not as deeply, nor as soundly—many an age has passed since I last slept as soundly or as peacefully as the untroubled, blessed Elves do.
"You have not slept well, tell me your story that your may sleep as you once did," She greets me each morning as she bathes me, and dresses my wasted body, for I no longer can do so. As she feeds my unwilling mouth her eyes beg me to let goof my hold, to speak of the decades that were forgotten. And finally, if my strength allows, for me to tell of the never spoken struggle that has once saved Middle-earth; but had also left my immortal body ruined, while awakening the Sea-Longing that calls to every fiber of my being—though I can not head it until the world is at peace, and the burden I bear is passed on.
As the Fellowship slumbers deeply in the manner of mortals I am able to release my watch over them, until they come once more to a light sleep. My mind and body relax from its diligent watch; while the young elleth gives me a massage that I no longer feel. Within an hour the various members of the Elven Council retire to the light rest of the Elves and I am able to sleep, to rest my weary watch. As I lose my hold on the waking world I gather what remains of my strength and whisper hoarsely for the first time in centuries, "Tomorrow I shall tell."
With that disgusting whisper, all that remains of what was once a brilliant and startling beautiful voice, I finally let go and rest.
Author's Note(s): I have redone this chapter and am working on typing the other, revised, chapters. The history issue should no longer be a problem, if it is PLEASE let me know. (Whether you flame or not I would love to be able to reply, I won't be harsh!)
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, is is probably NOT mine!