May Showers

By StarWolf

2/9/2004

Title: May Showers

Author: StarWolf (elendraug@yahoo.com)

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Rating: PG

Pairing: Éowyn x Arwen

Warnings: femmeslash, slight A/U

Genre: Angsty reflectiveness

Disclaimer: I owe my soul to Tolkien. These characters are his.

Distribution: Don't take it. It'll upset me greatly.

Summary: It only ever rains.

Authoress' Notes: I thought up the title and decided to write something. First femmeslash fic, ever. Gasp. And I don't think the summary makes much sense, but it sounds good. Many thanks to A Thousand Paper Cranes for catching an error. *hugs*

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"There are no flowers, no, not this time."

- AFI, "This Time Imperfect"

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In the morning she watches the sun rise through the dismal patter of rain on her window. The skies are clear in her dreams, but never in her mind. As the world is shrouded in mist and mystery she returns to herself and the world she has fashioned -- nowhere else is safe. She remembers times gone by that can never be relived, moments that made life worth living; the memories too faint to recall were the best ones, she's sure of it. Sometimes she wonders why she wakes up when all the beauty of the world has been destroyed. The trees, the lakes, the forests, the rivers, the sky, the ocean -- all swept into a chaotic whirlpool of nothing. The kingdoms lie in ruin, but still she watches.

In the afternoon she watches the sun overhead as the rain drips lazily onto her head, dampening her once-golden hair. The skies are grey and ever darkening, and her mind remains distressed. As the world is slowly torn from her grasp she clasps her hands together and falls to the ground -- naught but the cool earth can reassure her. She forgets things she once remembered, the recollections that once fulfilled her now deadened desires. Sometimes she wonders why she still lives when all who meant anything to her have passed away. Nameless in her broken heart, they've left her alone with herself -- all drifting on a wispy breeze that is quickly out of her reach. Her emotions crumple into a wrecked heap, but still she watches.

In the evening she watches the sun set while the rain continues on, relentless in its downpour. The skies are black as her heart, and she screams and screams in lifeless halls, the stone walls surrounding her, trapping her, until all is a mass of claustrophobic torture. As the world is cruelly shredded to silence she cries empty sorrow from reddened eyes, the salt stinging scratches she's made on her face -- no one sees her claw at her soul. She thinks of the one who understood, the woman who shared these tired tears; she misses her deeply, and now she is gone. Always she wonders why she still exists when all is no more. Evening star, so strong, so bright, now unreachable -- her only hope now walks in places that she cannot go. All things are at end, but still she watches.

Tomorrow she'll watch and wait for flowers.