Note to Reviewers: Once again, thank you for your wonderful reviews and for
your ever-enduring patience. ***Please be sure to read Chapter Nineteen
once it is posted; it will explain some events of this chapter.***
ElfHuntressAutumnBurgundy
It was time. Orodruin stood massive and black before Gil-galad's bright eyes, erupting violently. A tidal wave of orcs rose up and broke upon the Elven ranks. Aiglos flashed forward into Gil-galad's foes, dispatching them neatly and quickly. He and his powerful mount moved as one. The horse's muscles rippled beneath the king. There was no glory in a war, Gil-galad reflected; only blood, death, and hate. Yet if by blood, death, and hate he could free his people...
A voice that only Gil-galad seemed to hear began to sing, high and clear, as it were from among the stars. He paused, listening, and to his astonishment the voice sang of him. It was Sivi's voice, came the thought, and thus she sang:
"Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
The last whose realm was fair and free
Between the Mountains and the Sea.
His sword was long, his lance was keen,
His shining helm afar was seen;
The countless stars of heaven's field
Were mirrored in his silver shield.
But long ago he rode away,
And where he dwelleth none can say;
For into darkness fell his star
In Mordor where the shadows are."
Chills washed over Gil-galad's body. She sang of him as a fallen legend; a myth, and no more. Within him his heart broke. His fair lips whispered,
"Melui, melui..."
The wind took his words.
A terrible shadow appeared at the foot of Orodruin. Tears in his eyes, Gil-galad raised Aiglos in challenge. "How dare you take me from her?" he cried out.
The Enemy paid him no heed, trampling and killing unchecked. In horror, Gil-galad watched Elendil fall. From the corner of his eye, he saw Isildur reach for the hilt of shattered Narsil. The Enemy gave a cry like a wild beast's. Gil-galad saw a piece of gold fall through the air: the One Ring. The Enemy began to fall, and a heat like scorching flame poured over Gil-galad, searing his body. He had never known such pain. A forlorn echo reached him inside his dark, sweltering prison:
"Into darkness fell his star,
In Mordor where the shadows are."
The heat was gone, and he was on the cold earth looking up into the eyes of his love. His face ached like the rest of his body, but for her sake he forced a smile.
"Ereinion," she whispered, a sole tear slipping down her cheek onto his burning brow. It felt wonderful, but:
"No," he said in a gasping breath. "You are... too beautiful for tears. Not... not on my account... melui..."
With one last struggling exhalation, the stars in his eyes winked out, and his spirit left him. He was suddenly standing, watching Sivi kneel over a broken body... his body. She gripped his shoulders and shook them desperately, sobbing and calling his name. Then she screamed. The world reeled. The stars shook.
"Siobhan, Siobhan!" he cried.
It was too late. He was dead, and the voice of his spirit could not reach her. He thought he heard Mandos call his name.
"No. I am a king and a warrior. The Halls of Resting are not for me. Not yet! Not yet..." he pleaded.
He watched as his body was lain on a long buckler and borne away as Siobhan wept on the ground.
It was time. Orodruin stood massive and black before Gil-galad's bright eyes, erupting violently. A tidal wave of orcs rose up and broke upon the Elven ranks. Aiglos flashed forward into Gil-galad's foes, dispatching them neatly and quickly. He and his powerful mount moved as one. The horse's muscles rippled beneath the king. There was no glory in a war, Gil-galad reflected; only blood, death, and hate. Yet if by blood, death, and hate he could free his people...
A voice that only Gil-galad seemed to hear began to sing, high and clear, as it were from among the stars. He paused, listening, and to his astonishment the voice sang of him. It was Sivi's voice, came the thought, and thus she sang:
"Gil-galad was an Elven-king.
Of him the harpers sadly sing:
The last whose realm was fair and free
Between the Mountains and the Sea.
His sword was long, his lance was keen,
His shining helm afar was seen;
The countless stars of heaven's field
Were mirrored in his silver shield.
But long ago he rode away,
And where he dwelleth none can say;
For into darkness fell his star
In Mordor where the shadows are."
Chills washed over Gil-galad's body. She sang of him as a fallen legend; a myth, and no more. Within him his heart broke. His fair lips whispered,
"Melui, melui..."
The wind took his words.
A terrible shadow appeared at the foot of Orodruin. Tears in his eyes, Gil-galad raised Aiglos in challenge. "How dare you take me from her?" he cried out.
The Enemy paid him no heed, trampling and killing unchecked. In horror, Gil-galad watched Elendil fall. From the corner of his eye, he saw Isildur reach for the hilt of shattered Narsil. The Enemy gave a cry like a wild beast's. Gil-galad saw a piece of gold fall through the air: the One Ring. The Enemy began to fall, and a heat like scorching flame poured over Gil-galad, searing his body. He had never known such pain. A forlorn echo reached him inside his dark, sweltering prison:
"Into darkness fell his star,
In Mordor where the shadows are."
The heat was gone, and he was on the cold earth looking up into the eyes of his love. His face ached like the rest of his body, but for her sake he forced a smile.
"Ereinion," she whispered, a sole tear slipping down her cheek onto his burning brow. It felt wonderful, but:
"No," he said in a gasping breath. "You are... too beautiful for tears. Not... not on my account... melui..."
With one last struggling exhalation, the stars in his eyes winked out, and his spirit left him. He was suddenly standing, watching Sivi kneel over a broken body... his body. She gripped his shoulders and shook them desperately, sobbing and calling his name. Then she screamed. The world reeled. The stars shook.
"Siobhan, Siobhan!" he cried.
It was too late. He was dead, and the voice of his spirit could not reach her. He thought he heard Mandos call his name.
"No. I am a king and a warrior. The Halls of Resting are not for me. Not yet! Not yet..." he pleaded.
He watched as his body was lain on a long buckler and borne away as Siobhan wept on the ground.