Disclaimer: All Lord of the Rings/Silmarillion characters belong to JRR Tolkien. I have just taken and played for a while.
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He
knelt before me and taking both my hands in his pressed his lips
against
them. His eyes were deep gazing pools in which I had drowned
myself
many a time. They looked upon me now in love, and their light
was
soft and tender.
"If
I am lost…"
I
began to protest vehemently, as if the words alone would negate
the
dread I felt in my heart. Dread of his going, for some deep
knowledge,
which I tried to put aside, told me I would not look upon
his
beloved face again.
I
felt my knees weaken and collapsed upon them, weeping softly, in
front
of him, my hands still clasped within his.
He
hushed me and placed a gentle caress upon my forehead before
continuing
softly
"If
I am lost, come to me by moonlight." And then he stood and was
gone.
Pain
and grief wrenched my heart and it was some days before I
pondered
his words and, not understanding them, locked them away to
be
taken and looked at again later.
Some
weeks after he left me I had a dream. I dreamt I followed a
procession
upon a straight road through hills. The land through
which
we passed was dark and silent. The company were clothed all in
black
and the women were weeping softly. As I looked about me in
wonder
I could see the procession was made up of both Men and Elves,
though
the men seemed as noble and fair-faced as their elvish
companions.
No footsteps we made and when I tried to speak, I
realised
my voice had been stolen away. My companions on either side
appeared
to give me no regard and it seemed that while I followed
them,
I was not one of them.
I
walked along the company, gazing in curiosity at those beautiful
faces,
men and women, elves and ellith, their countenances solemn
and
terrible. At the head of them, three elves and three men walked,
bearing
upon their shoulders a bier, draped in black cloth. My
breath
caught in my throat as I realised it was a procession of the
dead.
Yet it seemed to me that although the bearers bowed under some
weight,
the bier upon their shoulders was empty.
I
looked about me in despair. I did not recognise the lands through
which
we passed but upon the horizon stood a great tower, tall and
elegant.
Bright against the night sky, it glowed white and looking
up
I could see the full moon between wind-scudded clouds. In its
highest
reaches a golden light shone as if a beacon to guide the way
and
suddenly a voice cried out
"Weep!
For the King of the Elves is fallen in battle and his like
shall
not be seen again in this Middle Earth"
Hearing
the voice I cried out and stumbled, and waking found the
details
of the dream were as vivid to me as the morning sunlight now
filling
my room.
It
was several weeks after, the herald brought the news of victory
to
us. Sauron the Deceiver was defeated and the lands of Middle
Earth
free. But he also brought the news my mind refused to hear –
though
my heart already knew it. My lord was lost, taken by the
Valar
upon the plain of Golgoroth and I begrudged them their prize.
I
would never see his shining face again, nor feel his soft breath
upon
my cheek nor lose myself once again in the deep pools of his
eyes.
I
took myself to lonely places – for although his people grieved,
the
mourning was mixed with the joy of victory. I wished only to
lose
myself in the blackness of my sorrow.
I
sought out an ancient elf who was often used to interpret such
things
and told him what I had seen. He looked upon me in pity and
his
eyes and voice were gentle.
"You
already know what it is you saw." His eyes looked upon me
kindly.
He turned away and drew from a book-filled shelf a map,
rolling
it open upon the table.
"The
Tower you saw is the Tower of Elostirion." He pointed with his
finger
upon the parchment. "The procession you saw was taking the
Straight
Road to the Grey Havens."
"But
he will not travel to those Blessed Lands" I cried out in
despair.
"His body was broken upon the field of battle. No ship can
bear
him hence."
"They
do not take his body." The elf smiled kindly at me. "They
bear
his
spirit. To Valinor."
He
rolled the map and turned away from me to replace it on the shelf
and
I heard his voice saying
"Get
thee to Elostirion. It is a two day journey and the full moon
will
rise in two."
I
bowed with thanks and left him, my mind in turmoil. I heard a
voice,
distant in my mind "Come to me by moonlight."
The
elf turned back from replacing the map and frowned in surprise
at
the now empty room. He had been about to tell her the Tower was
two
days journey away and coincidentally the first night of the full
moon
was also in two days – but she was gone.
I
prevailed upon the horse master to allow me the fastest horse in
the
stables and he did not refuse. The lines of the map I recalled,
as
if imprinted on my mind. I did not stop to rest, passing over
hills
and streams, over plains and through forests, I sought the
Tower
of Elostirion.
Late
upon the third day I reached it, and slipping off the horse,
secured
him at the foot of its pillar of white stone. The last light
of
day was fading from the western sky.
I
climbed the many steps in silence, my footsteps echoing upon the
cold
stone, my mind bent upon one thought, to see again the strange
procession
of my dream. There was a lantern set upon the window
ledge
at the top of the tower and I lit it, grateful of its warm
golden
light.
Many
hours it seemed I waited until at last I saw it. Winding about
the
road, running through the hills, the company followed their
path,
black-clad as in my dream. Yet the bier they bore at their
head
was not empty. Upon it lay the figure of my lord, clad all in
silver,
upon his brow a shining star and his spear Aiglos laid
beside
him in honour. I wept to see him so but at that very moment
some
power swept through me and I cried out with a voice strong and
true
"Weep!
For the King of the Elves is dead and his like shall not be
seen
again in this Middle Earth"
At
last the procession passed from my sight along the road to the
seas
and my eyes grew dim with tears and weariness. I felt myself
falling
into sleep for the first time since the dream and I honoured
his
name as I did so
"My
lord. My Gil-galad."
