In Gondolin the Fair before the day of fire came,
Upon a tower white there stood a post of greatest fame
Where chosen youths of elven-kin in times of feasting's call
Would sound the bugle's song to echo from the highest wall.
Now one by name of Celegil his honored post he stood:
On Gates of Summer's dusk his call he blew, at dawn he would,
But e'er he sounded Morn for all who waited Anor's ray
The light rose from the North instead and fire took the day.
This Celegil in horror watched as elves sought to defend;
In fear he took his trumpet and from tower would descend,
But then he thought of proffered joy that none could now partake
And glanced up to the East: lo! Light now shone and Day would break.
Afraid he stood and knew his duty, done, would be his last,
But thought of all below who'd hope be giv'n by bugle's blast;
So as the Sun began to top the mountains in the East
He put his trumpet to his mouth and blew the Morn of Feast.
King Turgon heard its sound and, strengthened, called defiant word;
In city panic stilled and Tuor's guiding could be heard;
A moment Idril paused and knew that day would come again
Before her worries forced the flash of foresight from her ken.
But 'ere the song was ended now the bugler's calling broke
For he'd, defiant, drawn the angered eye of every orc;
With many arrows in his breast he, pierced, fell from the wall,
Yet never could the darkness break his Song of Daylight's call.
A/N: Sorry for the more-than-a-month between updates here! My sister came home from college, then Christmas happened, then I went skiing, and in general writing fell off my plate. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! Thanks to LadyOfAnfalas for the idea of the Trumpeter of Krakow: this is the first story prompt where I immediately knew what setting to do. In fact, it's the first one where the story's barely changed at all, as well! I'll quit rambling now and end with: please review ;)
Happy New Year, everyone! (Thought a few days late.)