Lament to Lórien
By Naresha
Friend
My friend, so long known, so soon lost. Little seen throughout the years,
but trust developed through the honour you displayed in your deeds. Grace
in your swordplay, elegance in your lunges, and beauty as you bathed.
Head held high, an ever-present, arrogant façade gracing your face.
Although the words were never spoken, admiration was always there.
Middle Earth lost a great warrior when you departed. You would rather
have hidden from our cause, fighting battles in your own land; but you came
to aid us in the cause you so despised. You are a true warrior in my
eyes.
* * *
Lover
Once held in strong, Elven arms, the caress of your skin is no longer there.
Heat burns inside, intensifying each passing day. Longing, sorrow, playing
at heartstrings, stinging needles of pain stabbing at an aching heart.
Memories of a cruel blade slicing into fine silver hair; fighting back tears
as a warrior’s body fell to the ground. Needing to hold a dying body, but
unwilling to sacrifice another life in the process. Yearning to kiss rosy
lips and whisper ‘Namarie’ and promise to fight for the honour of your name…
Overpowering emotions, fighting only for the glory of our love.
* * *
Brother
Guiding through growth, leading us through love. It was always you
who could right our wrongs, and protect us until we could protect ourselves.
Honour from watching you ride out, more from riding out by your side. Tears
slide down sallow cheeks; memories of playful fights, of shouted arguments
and lessons learned the hard way. Sounds of soft lullabies lilting through
the night, quieting anxious minds. Even with a new father, we still
looked to you, trusted you to show us the way; not just a brother… A role
model, a light in darkness, who would never lead us astray.
* * *
Father
Playful days of youth, watched with a wary eye, a magic smile ready to cure
all ills. Now you are in need, but no magic is strong enough; no play,
no eye, no smile can cure you of what ills you suffer. Desperate longing
fills every corner of a grieving mind. Remembering you would come running
when nightmares ran rife, clinging tight for reassurance. Growing older,
growing stronger, training incessantly, protecting the borders with your
skills and your life. Riding beside your brothers, entrusted with the
lives of warriors, you never failed, always leading them forward and returning
them home.
* * *
Namarie
Rain pounding, arrows flying, swords slicing through the air. Unintelligible
words mixing together, noises, undistinguishable from others around them.
Blade draws through flesh, blood spattering around me. Strength pounding
through veins as more enemies fall. Sudden pain strikes, blinding,
searing, rendering me lifeless. It is just one blow… It should not do this…
Life blood seeping; years of life, friendship, love, sibling rivalry, fatherly
caresses, all seep from me and I see merged faces, merged memories one last
time. It takes so little…
One blow to kill an enemy, one blow to kill a warrior.
One blow to kill me…
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