In the evenings he stood upon the battlements and let the wind blow around
him, his small form no impediment to its flow. He would close his eyes and
breathe deeply; he wanted to whisper sweet endearments to the great flat
rush of air, imagining that they would carry to the one he longed for, but
the wind rarely travelled where he wished it, and his small voice was lost
even to his own ears.
With separation, he realised, he had lost his heart.
He knew it was still there, but he could not reach it; it was buried so deep that no trace could be seen, so deep that words and deeds and actions could not dig it out. It was a treasure, entombed beneath a tree inches deep in moss, tangled in heavy roots. He could not even retrieve it himself, so deep it lay.
He roamed the city, wishing it would pay him more attention than the occasional curious glance, finding some small solace in his duties and chance-met companions. Sometimes his gauntleted hand unconsciously flexed and groped, expecting another hand to be slipped into it; occasionally he woke in the night and found himself grasping at the blankets, hands opening and closing, seeking solace that was lost to him. He began taking the pillow from beneath his head and winding himself about it at night, but although it warmed up from his body heat, it yielded too easily beneath his weight, and the clutch of his fingers found no answering press of hands.
The great city was imposing to even the mightiest of Men, and far beyond the dreams and tales of Hobbits. He wandered the streets and battlements and halls, knowing he should be impressed by the glitter and glory, by the fair speech of the noble inhabitants; but he wished instead for the soft greens and rustic accents of the Shire, a longing so deep it hollowed him out from within.
He felt almost savage in his loneliness.
If it was his destiny to die far from home, in the service of a people and a lord who a year ago had not even entered the fringes of his understanding, then he would hold himself straight and do his duty. Not for nothing was he son of the Thain.
For the first time in his life he truly realised the burdens of love as well as the joys. Despite the vows he had made, he knew that if he were to sacrifice himself now, it would be for the love of the Shire and his family and the life he had left behind. It would be for the friends who had shared in the danger and the hardships of their journey, who shared with him now a bond stronger than blood. Most of all, it would be for the one whose touch could loose his heart from its burial chamber, whose breath could sweep away the earth that covered it, whose love could fill the hollow and make his heart replenish itself.
The city sighed beneath him, waiting.
***END***
With separation, he realised, he had lost his heart.
He knew it was still there, but he could not reach it; it was buried so deep that no trace could be seen, so deep that words and deeds and actions could not dig it out. It was a treasure, entombed beneath a tree inches deep in moss, tangled in heavy roots. He could not even retrieve it himself, so deep it lay.
He roamed the city, wishing it would pay him more attention than the occasional curious glance, finding some small solace in his duties and chance-met companions. Sometimes his gauntleted hand unconsciously flexed and groped, expecting another hand to be slipped into it; occasionally he woke in the night and found himself grasping at the blankets, hands opening and closing, seeking solace that was lost to him. He began taking the pillow from beneath his head and winding himself about it at night, but although it warmed up from his body heat, it yielded too easily beneath his weight, and the clutch of his fingers found no answering press of hands.
The great city was imposing to even the mightiest of Men, and far beyond the dreams and tales of Hobbits. He wandered the streets and battlements and halls, knowing he should be impressed by the glitter and glory, by the fair speech of the noble inhabitants; but he wished instead for the soft greens and rustic accents of the Shire, a longing so deep it hollowed him out from within.
He felt almost savage in his loneliness.
If it was his destiny to die far from home, in the service of a people and a lord who a year ago had not even entered the fringes of his understanding, then he would hold himself straight and do his duty. Not for nothing was he son of the Thain.
For the first time in his life he truly realised the burdens of love as well as the joys. Despite the vows he had made, he knew that if he were to sacrifice himself now, it would be for the love of the Shire and his family and the life he had left behind. It would be for the friends who had shared in the danger and the hardships of their journey, who shared with him now a bond stronger than blood. Most of all, it would be for the one whose touch could loose his heart from its burial chamber, whose breath could sweep away the earth that covered it, whose love could fill the hollow and make his heart replenish itself.
The city sighed beneath him, waiting.
***END***