Written for the Fireplace Writing Challenge, had to end with "If I had know it would end like this, I never would have told you," minimum 500 words, any fandom. Disclaimer: If you think I own Middle-earth or I'm JRRT, you must've been smoking something real good.
I touch the cold, gray stone, almost not able to believe that it is truly real. But it is real, too real. Your death was real. Your grave is real. Oh, I can barely think of that awful word. It makes me feel very sick, and I quickly turn my eyes from it.
We were inseparable, you and I, Turin. Long days of innocence and play flew before our youthful eyes, and you quickly grew into a fine, noble young Man. Tall, you were, towering over me, and your silver-gray eyes were powerful and piercing like no others'. They could rip open a soul like a knife destroys flesh. They were stormy, and very beautiful, I thought. You enraptured me, and my eyes could barely leave your face. But you shunned my company soon enough, no longer wanted to talk to me about the mysteries of the woods, or listen to the birds sing in the tall trees. You would go out walking with Beleg though, only seeing the trees as wood for your weapons. Soon, I became invisible to you, no more but a phantom shadow in the woods, a distant memory, something part of a long ago childhood long past. But I still longingly watched when you walked through the woods with Beleg. And I still waited, hopelessly, thinking that maybe, just maybe, one day you would call my name again, and ask me to play or teach you the types of trees. It was not a long time ago when you were innocent and young.
One day, I could not hold in the words I had been longing to say for years, the words that were accumulating in my soul and trying to violently scratch their way out . "I love you." I said into the silence, and my voice echoed through the woods. My hands flew to my mouth, half expecting someone to admonish me for my foolishness. I was watching as you walked with long, purposeful strides below the branch of the mossy, gnarled old tree in which I sat, my bare feet dangling down. You turned around, trying to distinguish whom it was whose words echoed into the air of the woods. But you couldn't see anybody. No, of course not. You never did. Why should you have been able to see me, when you haven't seen me in years of Men? A young Elf-maid who lived alone in the woods would not concern you. You were only concerned with vengeance, swift, ruthless, cold vengeance, and the thrilling joy you would feel when you had claimed victory over Morgroth.
But now you're dead and gone, Turin. I have touched the cold stone grave. You have been tormented by the curse of Morgroth, tormented and tortured unto a horrible, tragic death. You have gone to a place you cannot come back from, a place I will never know. And now, I think that if I had known it would end like this, I never would have told you.
I'm not very happy at all with the way this came out. In my opinion, it became too wordy, and Nellas didn't have a natural enough sounding voice. It was also too melodramatic for my taste. But I hope you enjoyed it anyways. :)
Edit 3:01 AM, 12/24 Just caught a big boo boo, I wrote Beren instead of Beleg. -- I knew I got something wrong. It is fixed now. :)
--insert review whoring--