Lament - by Cunien.

I'm going to try and make this the last chapter, but due to the unpredictable nature of this story, I do not know if this will truly be the case. There will probably be a little epilogue after this chapter though. Maybe. Thankyou.

Disclaimer: Things I Would Do If I Owned Lord Of The Rings -
9. Ask the Balrog this - If he has wings, as he does in the film, then why couldn't he just fly out of the chasm that he and Gandalf fell into?
The poem below is from Return of the King', and Poems from the Lord of the Rings'. The explanation of Gil-Estel and Earendil is adapted from The Complete Guide to Middle-Earth'.
This has a lot of things you may not understand if you haven't read The Silmarillion' (or flicked through it as I have!) So here's what you need to know to get the story. The Two Trees were beautiful trees in Valinor in Aman (were the elves came from - kind of like heaven). Powerful healing light came from these trees. Varda is a sort of Goddess that made the stars. The same light is in the Silmarilli, which were beautiful jewels. Hokay.


Summary: Sam dies. The End. (mwaahahahaaaaahaaaaa!)


In Western Lands beneath the Sun
the flowers may rise in Spring,
the trees may bud, the waters run,
the merry finches sing.
Or there maybe tis cloudless night
and swaying beeches bear
the Elven-stars as jewels white
amid their branching hair.

Though here at journeys end I lie
in darkness buried deep,
beyond all towers strong and high,
beyond all mountains steep.,
above all shadows rides the Sun
and Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
nor bid the Stars farewell.'

- Sam's song in the Orc Tower, (Return of the King)

Chapter 10: - Though here at journeys end I lie.

...... and when Arvernien was ravaged by the sons of Feanor, by the power of Ulmo, Elwing flew to Earendil at sea, and with her Silmaril they won through to Aman. There Earendil gained the mercy of the Valar for the peoples of Beleriand, but he, a mortal who had walked in the Undying Lands, his ship, and the Silmaril were set in the sky as a sign of hope to those oppressed by evil. This star was Gil-Estel, the Morning and Evening star, Star of Hope, and was most beloved of the elves, and his light had great power...'

*
Legolas looked up at the sky in confusion.
But it was day. The Sun had been in the sky for an hour or more, and even Gil-Estel, the last of the Stars to fade each morning, was gone.

The elf sighed and hung his head in frustration. His eyes came to rest on a pitcher, sitting on a small table beside the bed. The water inside was clear and bright, and the shining orb of the sun was an ever changing ripple, it's light caught silver in the liquid. Legolas thought of the Well's of Varda, where the Lady was said to have collected the shimmering dew from the Two Trees....

And there is it was. So clear in hindsight!

A bright smile broke out on Legolas' face, but the others had no time to notice it. In moments he was running, his pale hair rushing behind him as he moved effortlessly over the ground.

He found Galadriel by the Mirror, as he knew she would be.
She did not turn her head, but her eyes sought his, and a slight smile played on her lips. To any other race the sight would be unnerving, but the dignity and unhurried ways were shared by all his people.

Galadriel held out her hand, clutching something precious tightly in her palm. Slender fingers opened slowly, revealing a dazzling light. Legolas reached out and took it.

Then she turned to him, her eyes smiling. Legolas answered with a brilliant grin and bowed low to the Lady of the Golden Wood.

*

There was only darkness and cold.
But that didn't matter. Everything was clear in Sam's mind now. He existed only there, muffled, hidden from the world. Trapped perhaps, but Sam no longer saw it that way. What was the point in being angry, in asking why?

He had lived a relatively long life, and he was content now. He had lead a good life, had never wished or done any harm to anyone. Always nurtured and cared for everyone and everything. It meant a lot to Sam, to think that he had perhaps made some difference, been a help to someone. To be remembered and thought of as a good soul. Who had died trying to do something important. For a greater good. Hadn't he always said to himself, since this whole thing began? He would follow Frodo all the way to hell if he could be of even the smallest help. Would die for him.
Die for Frodo.

Sam relaxed.
The darkness didn't have to be frightening. It could be warm and comforting, womb-like.
But now something was changing, coming closer. Lighter. Still dull in the dark, but brighter than before.
Sam thought he could make out a figure. A woman?

Not like any woman he had ever seen before - from the race of Men or Hobbits or Elves.

She had no features, only light that radiated from her, flooded out in spirals and waves. But a sense of great beauty and grace was about her.
She shone with the colourless light of the Stars.

Words came to him, though he could not fathom why.

A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
Silivren penna miriel
o menel aglar elenath,
Gilthoniel! A! Elbereth!

And she spoke to him in words made of light.
She told him that there was hope. Above all else.

That deep roots are not reached by the frost.

*

And so the Phial of Galadriel, that held the clear light of Earendil, star of hope, was brought to Sam. It brought strength and courage to those who sought it, and it's light in turn was made stronger by the hope of the one wielding it.

Frodo took the crystal phial in his hand, unstopped the lid and brought it to Sam's pale lips.
It was strange. Sam did not look like Sam anymore. It seemed as though he were made of white marble, with black lines of darker stone as veins, webbing across the sculpture. He was so still, and his chest barely moved with breath now. But he looked content, and not in pain.

Frodo was calm and content now too. If this did not work, well, he had tried. He has hoped and prayed and wished and done all that he could for his friend. Sam would understand.

And so Frodo tipped the phial gently, until the sparkling liquid moved, slowly and heavily.
A Hobbit, who was so small, and yet held so much courage and strength.


*

One more to come - just an epilogue - to keep you guessing.
Does he live? Does he die? Depends on YOU! Review and tell me what you think! You have until the weekend! MWA HA HAAAAAAAAAA...ahem *evil laugh*