The King Ryldor lay in the mists of coming death. In the open walls of his
kingdom he lay on his silken bed, his blood made patterns on the silver,
gentle fabric, with the help of an Orc sword. He was severely wounded in
the battle of Belilmarith the war of the Elves and Orcs. He had been
stabbed in the shoulder and his side. With only a few moments of life
before him, his beloved Queen, Tythiel, sat by his side holding his cold
hand, watching his eyes study every detail in her fair face. She whispered
words of love and promise into his ear. But the blackness of death put an
endless curse of knowing and loss upon her shoulders.
His body shook with endless pain with each breath he took. Teldor the healer for the royal family stood by his side as well. He watched with sadness to see an old friend suffer so much pain. He dared not to prolong his dear friends life for Ryldor's wounds were deep, and filled with the cold darkness of evil.
King Ryldor looked up to his dear heart. "What will become of my children, my kingdom? How can Celendir rule when he has not been properly taught?" He clenched his eyes shut and trembled, he tightened his grasp around Tythiel's gentle hand. Tythiel smiled at her dying king, she bent down close to his face. She placed her other hand on his handsome face, which was painted in dried blood. At her touch Ryldor opened his eyes to look upon her. She looked at him lovingly. Her eyes green as pine, numbed his pain into love, but not even her love could keep the pain away for long.
Tythiel looked into his eyes which were no longer so blue, and his hair didn't seem as golden. Life was leaving him and she knew. Tythiel's heart felt like it dissolving, like Ryldor's life was. For he was her heart, her soul.
"Celendir is wise in healing, and is strong minded," Ryldor shut his eyes once more and shook his head, as if to doubt himself. A blonde strand fell in front of Ryldor's eyes, she wiped it away in a graceful swift. She started to tremble, tears welling themselves in her eyes, looking for escape among her fair cheeks, " and Delani is strong, what a warrior you have raised! True hearts filled with such bravery hold the fate of Elves in their hands. They will not let this kingdom fall, neither shall I." She looked up and spoke over her shoulder, "Morion!" A young blonde elf stepped forward from the shadows of the corner. He nodded to her, ready to obey any of her wishes," go fetch my children. Quickly!" They elf nodded to her and fled the room.
"Hold on Ryldor, please." She bent her head down to his face, and kissed his brow. Moments later Morion returned.
"Queen Tythiel, I have brought to you only your daughter, your son was not found yet." He looked behind the door and nodded. A young elf-maiden appeared, cloaked in pine green. She looked her mother, only not so fully into adulthood; light brown hair that fell upon her poised shoulders, and eyes the color of an emerald. She looked upon the bed of the dying king. Her eyes were sore with helplessness. She ran to her mother's side and sank to her feet. Then laid a tender hand on her mothers lap like a babe wishing hope from her elder.
"Sut an*?" her voice was young and silky. She looked up at her mother, and then her dying king, her dying father.
"Amin n' sinta*." They spoke in elvish. They exchanged a few more words, and then sat in silence. Delani raised herself , her eyes fixated on her father. She walked across the moonlit room to the other side of her father's bed. He saw her bow down before him, she folded her hands in prayer. He took his index finger and placed it under her chin to lift her face up. He looked into her eyes, the beauty of her made him sigh deeply.
"Ah Lirimaer, your face gives me peace." The tears that had formed in her eyes, made them sparkle. He moved his hand across her cheek and stroked it softly. She quickly took her fathers hand in hers, and bent her head down and kissed it tendrly. "Child do not weep. You have to be strong for the challenges that you will soon face after my death."
"You will then have to face them with me. You shall be well in a matter of days…" She trembled. The tears fell so softly upon her cheeks, as if they were making a perfect portrayal upon her face. Ryldor once more took his hand and stroked her fair face.
"We both know my time here is growing thin. After my death I ask of you to take Celendir to Galadriel she will tutor him. The King of Mirkwood, Thranduil, will come to make sure the path of my Kingdom runs smoothly until Celendir returns." He started to cough, Delani jumped, and grabbed his hand once more. She looked at her mother who only sat looking at her husband. Ryldor tightened his grip around Delani's hands. His breath became short and raspy.
"No, no, father please, not…not now," her voice cracked. She kissed his hand. "Please don't leave now. Not when your kingdom has great need of you. Teldor! Can't you do something?" Teldor stepped out of the shadows. He only bowed his head and shook it.
"The wounds are to deep. If I prolonged his life anymore it was cause him much pain. Please understand Princess, his time is here."
"No!" She screamed, she looked back at her father, his eyes had rolled into the back of his head. His body started to shake. A small cry came from Tythiel. She had her hands to her face, she rocked herself back and forth. Teldor came to her and placed his hands on her shoulders in comfort. " No father… please don't leave me, please." She trembled, the tears fell rapidly upon her face. Ryldor's shaking did not stop. Delani could not stand to watch the pain he was going through. Her body shook as well. She placed her head to his hands and felt his trembling go through her. She cried continuously until suddenly, the shaking stopped. She looked up. Ryldor's eyes were closed, and his breathing ended. He had died, he had passed to the other side.
"No," Delani whispered, she raised herself up, her fathers dead hands still in hers, she bent over and kissed his brow. She rested her head upon his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was gone, she spirit of him was no longer in this body. She clenched her teeth trying not to cry out. The cry grew in her throat, its pressure gagged her painfully. She finally let it out in a gasp for air. She fell to her knees once more. "What grace has been given to me?" She let go of her father's hand.
She was silent after that, she leaned her head unto the bed and sat there, listening to her mothers cry, and Teldor saying a payer of passing of the dead King. When Teldor had finished she had heard him whisper,
"Goodbye dear friend."
His body shook with endless pain with each breath he took. Teldor the healer for the royal family stood by his side as well. He watched with sadness to see an old friend suffer so much pain. He dared not to prolong his dear friends life for Ryldor's wounds were deep, and filled with the cold darkness of evil.
King Ryldor looked up to his dear heart. "What will become of my children, my kingdom? How can Celendir rule when he has not been properly taught?" He clenched his eyes shut and trembled, he tightened his grasp around Tythiel's gentle hand. Tythiel smiled at her dying king, she bent down close to his face. She placed her other hand on his handsome face, which was painted in dried blood. At her touch Ryldor opened his eyes to look upon her. She looked at him lovingly. Her eyes green as pine, numbed his pain into love, but not even her love could keep the pain away for long.
Tythiel looked into his eyes which were no longer so blue, and his hair didn't seem as golden. Life was leaving him and she knew. Tythiel's heart felt like it dissolving, like Ryldor's life was. For he was her heart, her soul.
"Celendir is wise in healing, and is strong minded," Ryldor shut his eyes once more and shook his head, as if to doubt himself. A blonde strand fell in front of Ryldor's eyes, she wiped it away in a graceful swift. She started to tremble, tears welling themselves in her eyes, looking for escape among her fair cheeks, " and Delani is strong, what a warrior you have raised! True hearts filled with such bravery hold the fate of Elves in their hands. They will not let this kingdom fall, neither shall I." She looked up and spoke over her shoulder, "Morion!" A young blonde elf stepped forward from the shadows of the corner. He nodded to her, ready to obey any of her wishes," go fetch my children. Quickly!" They elf nodded to her and fled the room.
"Hold on Ryldor, please." She bent her head down to his face, and kissed his brow. Moments later Morion returned.
"Queen Tythiel, I have brought to you only your daughter, your son was not found yet." He looked behind the door and nodded. A young elf-maiden appeared, cloaked in pine green. She looked her mother, only not so fully into adulthood; light brown hair that fell upon her poised shoulders, and eyes the color of an emerald. She looked upon the bed of the dying king. Her eyes were sore with helplessness. She ran to her mother's side and sank to her feet. Then laid a tender hand on her mothers lap like a babe wishing hope from her elder.
"Sut an*?" her voice was young and silky. She looked up at her mother, and then her dying king, her dying father.
"Amin n' sinta*." They spoke in elvish. They exchanged a few more words, and then sat in silence. Delani raised herself , her eyes fixated on her father. She walked across the moonlit room to the other side of her father's bed. He saw her bow down before him, she folded her hands in prayer. He took his index finger and placed it under her chin to lift her face up. He looked into her eyes, the beauty of her made him sigh deeply.
"Ah Lirimaer, your face gives me peace." The tears that had formed in her eyes, made them sparkle. He moved his hand across her cheek and stroked it softly. She quickly took her fathers hand in hers, and bent her head down and kissed it tendrly. "Child do not weep. You have to be strong for the challenges that you will soon face after my death."
"You will then have to face them with me. You shall be well in a matter of days…" She trembled. The tears fell so softly upon her cheeks, as if they were making a perfect portrayal upon her face. Ryldor once more took his hand and stroked her fair face.
"We both know my time here is growing thin. After my death I ask of you to take Celendir to Galadriel she will tutor him. The King of Mirkwood, Thranduil, will come to make sure the path of my Kingdom runs smoothly until Celendir returns." He started to cough, Delani jumped, and grabbed his hand once more. She looked at her mother who only sat looking at her husband. Ryldor tightened his grip around Delani's hands. His breath became short and raspy.
"No, no, father please, not…not now," her voice cracked. She kissed his hand. "Please don't leave now. Not when your kingdom has great need of you. Teldor! Can't you do something?" Teldor stepped out of the shadows. He only bowed his head and shook it.
"The wounds are to deep. If I prolonged his life anymore it was cause him much pain. Please understand Princess, his time is here."
"No!" She screamed, she looked back at her father, his eyes had rolled into the back of his head. His body started to shake. A small cry came from Tythiel. She had her hands to her face, she rocked herself back and forth. Teldor came to her and placed his hands on her shoulders in comfort. " No father… please don't leave me, please." She trembled, the tears fell rapidly upon her face. Ryldor's shaking did not stop. Delani could not stand to watch the pain he was going through. Her body shook as well. She placed her head to his hands and felt his trembling go through her. She cried continuously until suddenly, the shaking stopped. She looked up. Ryldor's eyes were closed, and his breathing ended. He had died, he had passed to the other side.
"No," Delani whispered, she raised herself up, her fathers dead hands still in hers, she bent over and kissed his brow. She rested her head upon his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was gone, she spirit of him was no longer in this body. She clenched her teeth trying not to cry out. The cry grew in her throat, its pressure gagged her painfully. She finally let it out in a gasp for air. She fell to her knees once more. "What grace has been given to me?" She let go of her father's hand.
She was silent after that, she leaned her head unto the bed and sat there, listening to her mothers cry, and Teldor saying a payer of passing of the dead King. When Teldor had finished she had heard him whisper,
"Goodbye dear friend."