Without

By: Celebrindal

There Can Be No Victory

Without Loss

The battle rages on about me, and my people fall to their deaths at the hands of Mordor. The banner of Rohan lays at the side of its dead bearer, covering the bodies of it's people. The King lays dying, Meriadoc beside him. I see his head fall and his eyes close, death finally taking him. And my sister lays there as well, frozen, seemingly dead. I say:

Mourn not overmuch! Mighty was the fallen,

meet was his ending. When his mound is raised,

women then shall weep. War now calls us!

But even as I speak it, I weep.

No Victory

Without Suffering

 With thrusts of extreme fury I lash at the putrid smelling beastly spider, slashing at its legs, its stomach its eyes. Wrath floods through my veins even as tears flood down my cheeks in torrents. The spider finally begins to lurch toward its hole and I follow, setting Sting to the back of its legs until it finally disappears.

I turn and stumble back to Frodo's prostrate form, falling to his side. Courageous Frodo, what has happened to you? You have given your life for the Quest.

The spider was gone, perhaps for a long time, but Frodo was gone forever.

No Freedom Without Sacrifice

Sam steps into the water, stopping when he was ankle deep and collapsing to his knees, watching the boat sail away. Pippin blinks repeatedly, but a tear rolls down his cheek anyways. I let my tears fall freely, and they fall down my face then onto my armor. Frodo was gone.

The Quest seems like a distant dream now. But to Frodo it is still his waking life. He has never fully healed, physically or spiritually. It still plagues him. He needs healing.

The Quest had freed Middle Earth from the Enemy, but we had to let him go in return.