Author: Elelome
Website: Arwen Evenstar
The trees are bare of leaves, silent in this land, and I am alone here in this faded vastness. The places I danced years ago have fallen to the ravages of time and tears.
No one is here. And a few words from an old poem ring through my mind:.
"...music shall perish and voices fail
and trees stand dumb in dell and dale..."
Old words from the Lay of Lethian, spoken by Daeron. Truly the music of my life vanished when my Aragorn did, and my voice is silent in the dusk.
I sit silently under a tree, leaves lying thick about its base, and hide my head in my hands. "He is gone ahead of me," I whisper, "and I cannot plead before the inexorable Mandos."*
Will there ever be another spring in Lorien? The elves who tended it have passed Oversea or departed for another Wood. "You and I are alike, my land of Lorien," I say. "Both of us left behind to fade while those we loved departed for fairer climes."
And, lying there alone, I enter into what seems to be a dream -- my love, my Estel stands over me, and reaches out his hand. "Come with me, most beloved," he says."You were never to be left alone." Grief stings his words, and unashamedly I rise to my feet to comfort him. He takes me into his arms.
"Come with me," he says again, and I fade
willingly into his embrace.
*these words Tolkien wrote in a letter
upon the death of his wife.
