Nothing for Tears

The Dancer

Disclaimers: Middle-earth and all its inhabitants belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his estate.  I intend no infringement of copyright, and am making no money from this.

Rating: PG.

Summary: A series of drabbles on the death of Finrod Felagund.

A/N: The title comes from 'Nothing for Tears', a part of 'Sampson Agnonistes' by John Milton:

            "Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail

             Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt,

             Dispraise of blame; nothing but well and fair

             And what may quiet us in a death so noble."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

What joy there is in the dancing! he thinks as he falls, crumples in the cruel jaws of the wolf, drowning in eyes red as blood.

His legs are ragged, torn and wounded, but still his heart dances, high, high above the green fields of Elven Tirion beyond the distant shore.

No eyes here but the fading ruby of the wolf and the sad, grey eyes of the Mortal he dies to save.  And yet … and yet he sees violet in that horrible darkness, dancing as they swayed, body to body, limb to limb, in the light of the Trees that are gone.

What a joyous dance, a merry, fleeting song, rising to a crescendo of love and hatred!

And then his music ends.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~