Title: Immortality

Rating: PG (violence and implied gore)

Summary: A short piece on the death of a King, fallen in battle and the hearts of those who would love him most. Angst-ridden drabbling mostly, written on a depressing whim.

Characters: Original Female Character, Ereinion Gil Galad

**********

I had seen the horrors of the enemy splayed across the hills of my forefathers, watched as flaxen fields turned scarlet only to find them scarred and bare in the cleansing fire's wake come morning. But I was ill prepared to watch this horrid display of my darkest fears made reality. She moved like one possessed, an archangel sent by the Valar themselves. For me, this was truly what she was. Her twin blades caught the waning light, casting shards of brilliance across her bruised flesh. I realized then that the sparkling upon her face were tears, that she was crying as she dispatched any unfortunate enough to come within reach. She moved with a long limbed awkwardness that all of the Firstborn possessed, like a Heron in the marsh, I thought. Elegant when walking, but flawless in flight.

She cried out and I struggled to answer, to tell her I was close, that I was laying right here, waiting patiently for her to reach my side as I knew so well she would. Her face contorted in fear as she spun, unable to hear my feeble voice as I strained to raise it. But at last, as I knew without doubt would happen, her unusual eyes found mine. I was forced to watch as the grey within her lavender depths filled with untold sorrow when at last she laid down her blades as her fellows swarmed to maintain a perimeter around me. The paleness of her face told me I must look worse than I felt. Though that should not have been difficult, for peculiarly I could not feel anything at all save the burning in my lungs as I fought greedily to feed them more air.

She knelt beside me, graceful as always though I knew the hammer strike she'd suffered had shattered at least one of her knees. I was blessed then with the sight of her face filling my vision and struggling, I sought for my words. I only needed a few of them really, for that was all I needed to give my heart a chance to say what I had desired to for so long. But my mouth was not obedient and I caught sight of her lower lip trembling as she tried so bravely to tell me everything was going to be alright, that we had won the day at last.

But the thought that I would not be celebrating our victory within the world in which I lay had already occurred to me. And though I thought myself past the point of sensation, I felt my body sing with joy as the soft tips of her fingers brushed gently across my brow. How I wanted to reach out and pull her to me! Though I could not, not even now.

I had never given her all I wished to. Fancied myself bound by tradition and propriety to only honor and admire her beauty, barred by social class to ever claim her as my own. Now when it should have no longer mattered, I was unable to at least ease her heart's purpose. She had been determined from the beginning to love me and no other, that youthful streak of iron will and innocence sparking something within me I fought so hard to control. I had dealt her heart more ache with my seeming indifference than I ever could have had I rebuked her love publicly. How could I have openly told her I was so very far from indifference? I had thought to shield her at least from the thoughtless persecution of my peers.

Yet she hadn't stopped. Every pained moment of self doubt I lapsed into, she suddenly was at my side. Every time I feared myself a tyrant, she was there, urging me onward and my heart had softened. She was my inner voice and I had rather become enamored in the idea of being hers. I'd entertained the thought of making a Queen out of her more than once, but in the end I had been unable to do so.

To force her indoors, to sit in a chair seeing to the clerical and domestic needs of the realm rather than the defending of it had seemed as wrong as caging the great Eagles she eyed with such trepidation. I could see all too clearly as I subjected her to the learnings of maidenhood that she was not such a lady. She was not one to co-rule or submit to another's dominion in anything save within the ranks of an army. It would have become the prison in which she withered away. That in the end, had stayed my hand and heart where she might have wished I had not.

Odd enough it was only now that I felt the frigid cold biting against my face, that I realized the gravity of my mistake. What time we might have had was long past. I could only wait now for my spirit to cease its hold upon my body and fade into the halls I'd never considered visiting…

She was singing, I realized suddenly. A lullaby I'd never heard before. It was a song of the coming dawn, a song of hope even now gracing her lips. I smiled and reached out, touching them as I had not allowed myself to do so freely before. I imagined the song was more to comfort herself than I. I realized then as my fingers sought the lines of her mouth that she was shaking horribly and her face was wet with tears. It occurred to me for the second time that I must truly look terrible to have frightened her so, for I'd only seen her cry once or twice before. At last I found my voice and I was surprised at the calm within it as I sought to comfort her, to let her know that this was not the end.

"I will be waiting for you." I managed, confused when I felt something warm and wet trickle down across my lips.

I thought at first it must be her tears for her face was so close to mine, but she whimpered loudly and squeezed her eyes shut in a manner that convinced me quite well that the fluid must have been my own. She buried her face against me, mumbling as she clutched at me in a way that was both thrilling and excruciating. Yet I gladly prayed to stay in that pain forever.

"The way is denied me." she said as she met my eyes once more, her voice so forlorn and filled with longing that I too now felt the need to weep.

Realization hit me at last with violent clarity. The reasons for her secrecy, her silent suffering all this time, the ferocity and pride in the way she moved. She was one of the banished, one of those cursed by their immortality to wander alone. It was in those moments my world seemed darkest and my heart broke. My spirit was sundered from my body, cursed as well for I would spend an eternity without her.

There are those amongst the Firstborn who see immortality for what it truly is. Those of us who know all too well the price we pay for our most precious gifts. It is in this manner that I watch now for the sundering of time. For it will be only at the ending of the world that I will find my heart once more made whole.