Into Peace
The world is neither cold nor dark; it is elusive and deceiving.
Emotion is an expression of the past. The very uttering of this word haunts me to the most private corners of my mind. Emotion is something that cannot be shown for with emotion comes pain and tears. I once embraced emotion as my old friend, as a kind and happy person. Now, emotion is brisk and desolate. My horrors are real and my caring is gone. I no longer care for the creatures of Arda. I look at them and feel no empathy. I kill them without a second thought. I have turned from my kin and friends as if they never existed, because in my reality they didn't.
My reality is unforeseen and horrid. Everyone who I once loved is gone, but the true pain of that statement is that I am the cause of it. I drove myself to such extents and in the process killed the very thing I held dear. I, the daughter of ceaseless eternity and agelessness, forsake my kin to age and eternity. Reality is bleak and dreary.
My eyes no longer cry. I cried so much that day and the months after. My body has nothing else to cry. I shiver and shake as if Necromancer himself breaths upon my soul. The tears do not come not matter how much I try. I force them sometimes but instead of sweet tears I only get heaves. My body aches and churns with every move I make. This existence is tiring and painful.
The ruins come before me at an unrelenting pace. Only a year ago was this a thriving city with ellons and elleths running about the streets. The wise king and queen ruled well and protected us. They protected us until I could not protect them. These halls, which are so green with grief, echo the screams of mothers and children. The Lady of Light's magic could not stop the hate that snaked its way threw the winding stair cases. The Halls of Mirkwood stood in desolation.
We were superior to our counterparts in Arda. We were sophisticated and talented. We were the most beloved of the Eldar, blessed with immortality, wit, and beauty. The Elves had a grim reminder ,that day, of just how much our race has diminished over the years. The Age of Men is upon us and yet we ignored it. Our prince is away and not likely to return and all I could do in our home was watch it burn.
It was one of the last Orc packs left on Arda, but ,woe, how there were so many of them. The spiders had helped and the Elves were defenseless. We all died. All but I, and that is my punishment. Oh, how I wish I would have died those years ago. I wish I did not have to live with my sin for eternity. The sin of watching all those Elves die while I stood and tried to be a hero. Dear Nienna, I should have fought with my fellow elf but instead I was over confident and stupid. I deserve to live with my sin. I do.
I grasp that Dwarf's stone in my left hand and look down to the raging river from my spot on the throne. Thranduil died here defending his wife. I remember it so clearly. I remember the terror in her eyes and her hands trembling as she held mine. I remember her falling and not getting up. Her blood and screams haunt me. The river rages and every once in a while you can hear the faint sound of a crow or a vulture. The bodies are littered around the halls and the ancient bones of these Elves cry out for burial. I can hear the screams and the agony as I stand in the halls. I can hear everything.
"Tauriel" A familiar voice behind me says softly. I swallow deeply and turn around to face the same eyes that haunt my dreams. His mother's eyes are embedded in my memory.
"I..." Neither of us knew what to say. We stare at each other for very long time.
"You were here, weren't you?" Legolas asks me in a hushed tone, as if not to wake the dead.
"I was" I told him.
"I left home two years ago assuming I would return to my family after my task was complete. I only left for two years." Legolas says to me with heavy eyes.
"The winters bring pain, coldness, and suffering. I could not stop it." I tell him.
"I don't understand." Legolas sighs.
"You never will, and nor will I. But I am the coward. I deserve my fate of living but I cannot be the only one. I cannot not be the last. I am a coward, Legolas." And for the first time in a year, I cry. The tears stream down my face and into my mouth, just as the blood of thousands drip into the river below me and as shall mine.
"Tauriel, wait." Legolas walks forward and grabs my arm. I stare into those haunting eyes and linger for only a second.
"You have your mother's eyes." I take a step forward and walk into the abyss, into cowardliness, but into peace.
A/N: Please leave a review and tell me what you think!