Title:
Feanor is…a poet?
Author: Ilmarien Astiniel
Fandom:
LOTR
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any characters, lands, or
items from
the Tolkien world. They belong to their respective
copyright holders.
Rating: G
Cast: Feanor
Summary: Feanor
reflects.
Be still my heart, my soul, lest thou breakst, I
grow old, I grow mad.
A prince there was, a noble, subtle prince,
worthy of praise. My pride grew; I grew harsh, impatient and wild.
I
heeded no one, nothing.
My pride came before my fall.
I fell.
I
am fallen, before everyone.
I am a lesson to teach those of how
the mighty have fallen.
Now that I recline in repose
I
summon up waking memories of things lost,
I weep the lack of a
thing that I sought; bliss.
To what base ends was I driven you
ask? Greed, Glory, Fame?
I cannot answer, for I know not. My heart
was hot, restless and impatient.
Dammed heart, be still!
Never was I meant to rashly chase, even my best laid plans went
to waste.
Mother vanished, Father slain, wife abandoned, took
oath, slew kin, stole, betrayed, sons doomed.
After great pain a
deathly feeling comes.
Fair the end shall be, I should like to rest, but it seems I have promises to keep, and years to go before I sleep.
