Summary: During our time, a woman finds comfort in the most unlikeliest of people... (Maglor/OFC).
Disclaimer: I do not own The Silmarillion... :sigh: I'm not clever enough to invent such fantastic stories, which is why I do fanfiction and mooch off other authors and their writing.
A/N: I don't know if anyone else has tried this type of mini-ficlet before, but I thought I would give it a go and see how people liked it. It will only be a few chapters long. Constructive feedback would be greatly appreciated!
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Sing For Me.
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'He came never back among the people of the Elves..'
- Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath -
- The Silmarillion -
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There it was again.
That voice...
She had heard it every day for the past week. The tenor echoed through the passages of her quiet beach-front home and though she didn't understand the words, it felt as if a heavy burden had been placed upon her shoulders whenever she listened to the mournful tune. How an unidentifiable song could have such an effect, she had no idea. But when the last verses were sung and the voice drifted away, carried off into the humid air towards the slowly sinking sun, it left her feeling melancholic and somewhat depressed.
With that haunting song, her retreat from life and the grievances she carried from the past year were all brought to the forefront.
Her book forgotten, she rose from her mother's rocking chair and strolled through the dimly lit corridor, towards the kitchen at the rear of the house. Even with all the windows shut, the voice still managed to penetrate through the glass and she knew she would have to do something before she let her frustration and sorrow cloud her better judgement.
Quietly, she gazed out of the kitchen window that offered her a view of the blossoming rainbow-coloured garden before it joined with the white-shore beach and the churning ocean beyond.
Of course, nothing was there save for the muffled cries of gulls flying and circling around one another in the orange-tinted sky.
Nothing was there; no one was there.
She was alone. Again.
Many times, she thought she was imagining the voice. But the song seemed too real to be conjured from the tattered fabric of her mind. She was tired. Tired of thinking, tired of breathing, tired of living.
Tired of being.
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The cool sea breeze ruffled the tight curls of her gradually greying auburn hair. Mouth set into a hard line, jaw clenched impassively, she stared at the rippling azure waves that shimmered beneath the sun. Lines peppered the corners of her mouth, the corners her earthy brown eyes; a sign of her joyful past and the coming days of her future sorrow.
Another week, another day and she waited... Waited for the despairing song to begin again.
Her song.
Movement in the corner of her eye forced her to break the binding spell that had been cast upon her by the deceiving sea. She turned and looked. And found nothing. Saline tears blurred her vision as she rose from the damp sand of the deserted beach; it clung to her backside in sticky granules.
"Why do you weep, my lady?" The voice whispered. The voice that sang, but she could not understand the words.
She whirled around, flailing about as if lost in the dark. Like a scared child with no hope, no faith to keep her tied to the circles of the world. Her wearied bones creaked and groaned like an old, decayed tree bending to the majesty of an unwavering gale.
And then, she saw him.
The man that embodied the voice. He came forth like a vision in a dream; a mirage of timelessness and decadence.
But, no. Not a man.
She looked closer, her muddy eyes narrowing. Gods, he was breathtaking. More than breathtaking. He was ethereally removed, like something taken from the pages of a myth. A tall creature he was, swathed in blue and black; cloth from another time, another world. Piercing grey eyes delved into her own, touching the corners of her soul and she resisted the urge to recoil. She could not breath under his gaze. Her eyes began to wander and she gazed upon the darkest of silky sable hair as it draped down around his broad shoulders to the lithe muscular chest. Startled, she barely registered the delicate points of his ears and the perfect shape of his almond eyes.
No lines creased his face, no mark marred his flawlessly pale skin.
Utterly untouchable.
She drank him in. She devoured his beauty as though she had been starved from birth; from the luscious pouting mouth, to the knee-quivering squared jaw. The narrow waist and strong legs clad in some form of leggings... She took it all in and looked upon the body of the voice that had tormented her for endless hours before this day.
How could something – someone - so beautiful, be the cause of so much grief?
Her gaze drifted back to the disconcerting grey eyes that examined her with an equally shrewd gaze. They shimmered with hidden amusement and barely concealed despair and grief.
"Is this a dream?" She roused from her slumber to speak. Her whispering voice seemed fragile, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings against the raging wind.
The man... no, creature, cocked his head thoughtfully, as though he were contemplating her words. He shrugged gracefully and waved his hand, as if to say he did not understand.
He spoke.
But she could not fathom his words.
The lack of understanding left her feeling bereft. Bereft of hope. "Please tell me you understand what I'm saying," she pleaded, her words quivering with unimaginable pain.
Again, he tilted his head the other way, thoughtfully and almost inquisitively as he registered her own sorrow collapsing around her. He opened his mouth and murmured some words, ending with, "...Maglor."
But gradually, he faded from her vision before he could speak another word in his beautiful, lilting voice.
And she was alone. Again.
Her questionable sanity swamped through her veins once more and she fell to the ground, to her knees. It was a dream. It had to be.
It couldn't be anything else, because she promised herself that it would stop. She would stop seeing these visions given to her by an unforeseen force of power. She had stopped. She didn't want them any more, she had blocked them. Fifteen years without them... So why were they starting again? Why could she see things that no one else claimed to see? It was unfair. It was horrid and cruel.
It was frightening.
However, deep within her soul, she knew it was her own mourning heart that had broken the steady barrier she had erected between herself and her visions.
The fading cry of gulls in the background pulled her away from the danger of drowning in her thoughts.
How long she remained by the sea, she did not know.
But her heavy sobs lingered in the air with uncertainty. Her tears fell like an endless torrent of rain upon the minuscule grains of pale sand that were threaded with strands of deep green seaweed. And she watched; watched as her tears were absorbed before they disappeared.
Just like the creature from her vision.
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Reviews are welcome.