A/N Happy New Year! A little late, perhaps, but still. I hope you enjoy my new story, wich I thought of while taking out the garbage. Strange, isn't it? I think so. But enough of that! It's time to get philosophical.
If you think just a little while reading this, you will find that it is quite deep and a little bit cliche. It's about taking risks, stepping out of your comfort zone and doing something new. You've got to take risks, or you will never succeed in this world. If you want somethig, you've got to take a risk. You can exist your whole life without taking risks, but you won't live.
You know, I'm awful at this. If you've managed to stay with me this far, congrats. I won't bore you anymore. On with the story!
Disclaimer: It is with great sorrow I must tell thee… that I don't own anything.
Faded Colours
Sometimes I think about those who stayed in Aman while the others went away. The Exiles returned to Endórë, to the wild land where they had awakened and where their kin still lingered. They built great cities and kingdoms, fought great battles and met the inhabitans of Middle-Earth, yet they also watched as their cities fell, as their mortal friends died and saw the carnage after the battles. They forged friendships in blood, felt overwhelming relief as they saw their brothers-in-arms alive after a battle, yet they were also betrayed by people they trusted and felt the heart-breaking grief of seeing the unseeing eyes of loved ones who had died at the hands of The Enemy or succumbed to sorrow.
Those who stayed in Aman went on with their lives, continued to throw partys and craft jewelry, to sail the sea and learn from the Valar. They made new friends and acquaintances, yet these bonds were never as strong as those forged in Endórë, for they had not been tested and no one knew if they would hold or break if they ever were.
Those who left, the Exiles, lived life to the fullest extent. They laught and cried, mourned and made merry. They saw every aspect of life, the good and the bad, and they grew wiser from it.
But those who stayed behind in blessed Valinor, did they really live? They never knew orcs and goblins, true, but neither did they know Edain or Naugrim or Periannath. They never knew darkness, but did they know light? They never knew betrayal and abandonment, but did they know friendship that would last no matter what, or friends that would come for you even if you were held captive in the darkest pits of Angband?
The Exiles lived life full of vivid colours, lived through both good and bad, but the elves of Valinor existed in a world of faded colours, like an old sun-bleached photograf. They never knew the darker aspects of life, yet they never knew the bright sides either. But what about you? Would you live life, live throught both the good and the bad, or exist in a world of faded colours? What would you choose?
A/N Thats it! I hoped you enjoyed it.
Apud unumquemvis est cor residet verum Argentum Fabula.
~Me
(I thank google translate for that piece of latin. If you want to know what it means, google it).
/ Custos de Fabulas