Written By: Kippur
For: Thalia Weaver
-------Forgotten------
A ranger had died. He had died alone, away from his fellows, in the darkness of the woods, by accident. He had stumbled upon a camp of orcs while scouting. They weren't where he thought they'd be. It had been his first mission out alone. The orcs had kept him alive as they played with him. And then they devoured him. Bit by bit, keeping him alive until the very end. His soul had passed on to that place where men's souls went.
But it did not leave without notice. Varda had seen him.
She had seen him and now she wept for him.
Because no one else would.
I see her now, kneeling over where he had lain, over where he had died. She had watched him ever since he got captured, her spirit hovering over him. Always making sure that he was able to see the stars, to see her shinning light. It gave him hope. I know that.
Perhaps it was hope misplaced.
It still gave him the strength to hold on, to not submit to their tortures and their questions.
It gave him hope to live.
For the chance of rescue, for the chance of freedom.
She encouraged it. Whispering softly in his ear as the wind rustling in the trees or the birds singing during the day light hours while the orcs slept. She couldn't help him. None of us could. None of us cared to.
Only her.
She could only watch.
But at least she did.
I walked up to her, my footsteps as silent as I could make them. She still hears me coming up to her. She lifts her head as graceful as a swan. Her eyes filled with stars. Filled with tears. Crystal and pure.
"There was nothing you could do," I said to her.
"There should have been," She said. She takes my hand, soft as silk and strong as iron and stands.
"I know."
"He will be remembered." She said this with absolute certainty. I watch her walk off, stars burning brightly in her wake.