'Let it come…' He thought tiredly, smiling the last of a lifetime of smiles and reaching his fingers out to brush the sand. Ah there it was... The ocean ebbed against the tips of spindly digits. It came to him, for him, the swelling sea water, bluer than his mother's eyes and as cold as his first winter. And yet it was not a brittle cold; no, it was an enveloping, caressing cold.
'Yes, now…' the Elda let his head fall back, dark hair draping out across the white sands beneath him, stark as ink against twilight white. 'Let it come. Please… come.' The water of the great ghost sea moved over him. His hands were encased in it, the blood washed free from still fingers. The salt of the afterlife tickled away all the stains of life.
'Come, come… Let it come for me. Please let it come for me.'
His voice was silent and yet resonated beautifully, it curled into the little air that remained. The air that the sea had not claimed rang with his thoughts. 'Please, please,' begged the elf, 'Let it come.'
And so it came. The ocean came up and took away the sand. It drowned the grass and buried the trees, it mercifully stole away the air. Each of the stars were extinguished, the moon and sun put out, the world of Arda sinking into darkness until there was only sea. There were only the azure ocean waters, the tickling salt, and the little sighs of the dying Elda.
The elf's ears were filled with song, his nostrils filled with flowery scents, and his mouth was filled with sweetness; and all around his skin was the stroking of the water.
And so the elf let go of all his limbs and likeness; he let his head fall and his fingers curl. Wise eyes closed and long hair flowed away with the water, flowed to the west, as the elf lay back in the waters of life, and died.
'Come, come, come for me. Take me away from here… Come…'
All was silent, all was still, as the elf lay back and die.
A/N- There was always something remarkable about the death of an elf. I wrote this at 2:30 in the morning as I camped out downstairs because a monstrous, mutant hornet had overtaken my room. Bastard.
DISCLAIMER- The creatures, the lands, the beauty, and the genius all belong to Tolkein. Only the typos are mine.
'Yes, now…' the Elda let his head fall back, dark hair draping out across the white sands beneath him, stark as ink against twilight white. 'Let it come. Please… come.' The water of the great ghost sea moved over him. His hands were encased in it, the blood washed free from still fingers. The salt of the afterlife tickled away all the stains of life.
'Come, come… Let it come for me. Please let it come for me.'
His voice was silent and yet resonated beautifully, it curled into the little air that remained. The air that the sea had not claimed rang with his thoughts. 'Please, please,' begged the elf, 'Let it come.'
And so it came. The ocean came up and took away the sand. It drowned the grass and buried the trees, it mercifully stole away the air. Each of the stars were extinguished, the moon and sun put out, the world of Arda sinking into darkness until there was only sea. There were only the azure ocean waters, the tickling salt, and the little sighs of the dying Elda.
The elf's ears were filled with song, his nostrils filled with flowery scents, and his mouth was filled with sweetness; and all around his skin was the stroking of the water.
And so the elf let go of all his limbs and likeness; he let his head fall and his fingers curl. Wise eyes closed and long hair flowed away with the water, flowed to the west, as the elf lay back in the waters of life, and died.
'Come, come, come for me. Take me away from here… Come…'
All was silent, all was still, as the elf lay back and die.
A/N- There was always something remarkable about the death of an elf. I wrote this at 2:30 in the morning as I camped out downstairs because a monstrous, mutant hornet had overtaken my room. Bastard.
DISCLAIMER- The creatures, the lands, the beauty, and the genius all belong to Tolkein. Only the typos are mine.