Disclaimer: I do not own the Silmarillion.
I do not own Idril. Just something I thought she might write.
AN: Many thanks to my Beta Thalia. With out her the would have been painful to read.
-E.D.
.
His Eyes Are On Me
.
His eyes are on me. I can feel him looking at me, his thoughts reflected in his eyes. He haunts
my steps. He thinks I could love him, and I do, but not in the way he wants me to. I often wonder
if he thinks of getting a wife the same way his father did. I hope not, for there can be no happiness
through that course of action, only tears and hate. But still his eyes are ever on me.
***
Is my father blind? Or am I the only one who can see? He is plotting, planning, up to no good.
He harbors too many secrets in his mind. His thoughts swiftly take him to darkness and shadow.
There is blood on his hands.
***
Truly we live underground, but it is not I who was raised in darkness. He is changed, and he lies
very well. He keeps watch over me, closer and more often now. I am not his.
That is a truth he refuses to accept.
***
Oh, his eyes, they are on me now, but not in love. He has come to an understand now. But he will try to
change the unchangeable. Hate is now mingled with the love in his eyes, not for me, but for my husband
and child. Still he dreams of me as his wife. He forgets that we only love once; I will never love another.
And I could never love him, not the way he wants me to.
***
It is over. He will never follow me again. Foul son of darkness. Traitor. I, I was the promised price.
I was to be the reward. Long have I distrusted him, but I did not think he would go this far. We have
escaped, but at great cost. Would that we had listened to my husband when he said to flee, but we
did not, and in that hour of our folly and pride our doom was made ready.
His eyes will never rest on me again.
I do not own Idril. Just something I thought she might write.
AN: Many thanks to my Beta Thalia. With out her the would have been painful to read.
-E.D.
.
His Eyes Are On Me
.
His eyes are on me. I can feel him looking at me, his thoughts reflected in his eyes. He haunts
my steps. He thinks I could love him, and I do, but not in the way he wants me to. I often wonder
if he thinks of getting a wife the same way his father did. I hope not, for there can be no happiness
through that course of action, only tears and hate. But still his eyes are ever on me.
***
Is my father blind? Or am I the only one who can see? He is plotting, planning, up to no good.
He harbors too many secrets in his mind. His thoughts swiftly take him to darkness and shadow.
There is blood on his hands.
***
Truly we live underground, but it is not I who was raised in darkness. He is changed, and he lies
very well. He keeps watch over me, closer and more often now. I am not his.
That is a truth he refuses to accept.
***
Oh, his eyes, they are on me now, but not in love. He has come to an understand now. But he will try to
change the unchangeable. Hate is now mingled with the love in his eyes, not for me, but for my husband
and child. Still he dreams of me as his wife. He forgets that we only love once; I will never love another.
And I could never love him, not the way he wants me to.
***
It is over. He will never follow me again. Foul son of darkness. Traitor. I, I was the promised price.
I was to be the reward. Long have I distrusted him, but I did not think he would go this far. We have
escaped, but at great cost. Would that we had listened to my husband when he said to flee, but we
did not, and in that hour of our folly and pride our doom was made ready.
His eyes will never rest on me again.