TITLE: "Undying" (1/1)
AUTHOR: shoneaugen
EMAIL: shoneaugen@hotmail.com
DISTRIBUTION: Ask and ye shalt recieve if I feel like it. ^^
FEEDBACK: Please? Pretty please? Pretty as Haldir? *ducks*
DISCLAIMER: Haldir is Tolkien's, and his part in the movie is Craig Parker's/Peter Jackson's. I'm just bringing him out to play.
SUMMARY: "So this was the price he paid to linger from the shores of the Undying Lands."
NOTES: Yes, so I didn't spellcheck or grammarcheck or.. edit in any way, really. Please don't shoot me. It's my birthday. (I'm finally fifteen! ^^)
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He fought. He had always fought; it was, even to his elf's pacifistic instinct, natural. He was the marchwarden of Lorien. He was a warrior. He was immortal, unbested, confident that some miracle would save them despite the overwhelming odds. He had come to rekindle the alliance of Firstborn and Men, had forsaken his voyage to the West through his own confidence in blade and bow that he was, in truth, undying. Ever.
Or he had been.
His life did not flash past his eyes as legend told it would - nor did he feel any sudden regrets over what had happened in his long, long years, as Men did. He only felt the bite of pain in his back, bloodrusted metal cleaving into his spine. The ground, he knew, was littered in dirt and bathed in blood from those dead before him and those who would die after him, for he knew - he would die. The Halls of Mandos beckoned, no longer the Grey Havens.
He reeled forward, fading sight locking on the bodies piled before him. They loomed in his vision, twisting and clearing as he fought - still fought - for breath, found his throat constricted beyond the air he desperately sought. He blinked once, twice to try to clear his vision, but it only hazed further, blackening as the roar of battle died around him. Died with him, perhaps.
So this was the price he paid to linger from the shores of the Undying Lands
And his death-blinded eyes saw no more the yet present mortality of the undying, and the dead.
AUTHOR: shoneaugen
EMAIL: shoneaugen@hotmail.com
DISTRIBUTION: Ask and ye shalt recieve if I feel like it. ^^
FEEDBACK: Please? Pretty please? Pretty as Haldir? *ducks*
DISCLAIMER: Haldir is Tolkien's, and his part in the movie is Craig Parker's/Peter Jackson's. I'm just bringing him out to play.
SUMMARY: "So this was the price he paid to linger from the shores of the Undying Lands."
NOTES: Yes, so I didn't spellcheck or grammarcheck or.. edit in any way, really. Please don't shoot me. It's my birthday. (I'm finally fifteen! ^^)
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He fought. He had always fought; it was, even to his elf's pacifistic instinct, natural. He was the marchwarden of Lorien. He was a warrior. He was immortal, unbested, confident that some miracle would save them despite the overwhelming odds. He had come to rekindle the alliance of Firstborn and Men, had forsaken his voyage to the West through his own confidence in blade and bow that he was, in truth, undying. Ever.
Or he had been.
His life did not flash past his eyes as legend told it would - nor did he feel any sudden regrets over what had happened in his long, long years, as Men did. He only felt the bite of pain in his back, bloodrusted metal cleaving into his spine. The ground, he knew, was littered in dirt and bathed in blood from those dead before him and those who would die after him, for he knew - he would die. The Halls of Mandos beckoned, no longer the Grey Havens.
He reeled forward, fading sight locking on the bodies piled before him. They loomed in his vision, twisting and clearing as he fought - still fought - for breath, found his throat constricted beyond the air he desperately sought. He blinked once, twice to try to clear his vision, but it only hazed further, blackening as the roar of battle died around him. Died with him, perhaps.
So this was the price he paid to linger from the shores of the Undying Lands
And his death-blinded eyes saw no more the yet present mortality of the undying, and the dead.