(Note: Skip poem if you want to. It’s just background info. All is explained later.)

My soul cries,
For you but you’re gone,
It doesn’t get better or worse,
To live forever is a curse.

You were by my side,
Eighty years of your life,
But you fell away,
As they all do in time.

I vowed to never love again,
I vowed to hide from the world,
And here through the portal,
In my forest refuge I am safe.

My dreams are haunted,
By your face, your touch, the light in your eyes,
I swore to you I’d live,
And sealed your life with a kiss.

Long have I been alone,
Drowning in sorrow and tears,
Until someone entered my refuge,
With your light in his eyes.

This poem is one I wrote just after Liron died, and after everything else. It was completely by accident that I ended up in Middle-earth, but I’m glad that I did. To go from a tainted world to one pure and untouched was my dream, and it was fulfilled. Here I will tell my tale from the beginning. It begins when that mysterious elf first appeared in my dreams, as I slept on the forest floor….

… “Don’t leave me!” I cried out for Liron as he was dragged away. I reached for him, and I fell, down, down, down… I landed in a grove of trees. I looked up, and saw him, standing on the edge of a clearing. A blue-eyed elf, dressed as a warrior. Long blonde hair fell down his shoulders, and he wore green with a grey cloak and a bow and arrows slung across his back. Then, I saw the ground open up beneath me. I fell away as he spoke, but I could not hear him …

I cried out as I woke, soaked in sweat and shaking. To have to relive your loved one’s death each night is horrible enough, but that elf… it was his eyes. There was something there that sent shivers down my spine.

I reached up to touch the scar on my face. The scar was another reminder of Liron’s death. Shortly before he died, he took his wedding ring and heated it until it was red hot. Gently he pressed it to my face, and it left a circular cut on my left cheek. He whispered that he wanted me to remember him and took my hand. The scar has always been there, and even a hundred years later it remains. Sighing again, I rose, and dressing went to wash my face in the stream nearby.

As I bent down, I heard a rustling noise. Looking up, startled, I saw him. The elf in my dream was standing there, smiling.

“What is a fair maiden like yourself doing alone in Fangorn Forest?”

“What is a warrior doing talking to a young traveler? Aren’t you headed somewhere?”

With a laugh he stepped nearer, and looked me in the eye. I shivered, because it was like looking into Liron’s eyes. There was the same light in them, the same sorrow and joy, the same unfathomable depth.

Blushing, I looked away. He tilted my chin up and touched the scar on my cheek.

“What’s this?” He must have seen the sorrow in my eyes as I replied,

“A memory of a lost love.” Fighting back tears, I turned away.

“I am sorry. I had no idea. Tell me, though, why are you here? Something tells me that you are from far away, somewhere else.”

“I come from another world, a world tainted and evil.”

“How then are you here?”

“I found a portal into this world and have lived in this forest for a year now.”

“I sense something behind your eyes. What are you hiding?”

“I will not tell you that. It’s nothing. Nothing but the sorrows of a young girl.”

“Tell me. Please, I swear I could not mock you.”

“I know you not. How can I trust you? I trust no one.”

I turned from this stranger, tears coming to my eyes. It had been long since I had called anywhere home, much less my world. It was there that my sorrows began, for I loved a mortal. He has been gone a hundred years now, and I had lived long in sorrow. I had taken a vow, a vow that trapped me in my pain behind a shroud. Until I was freed from my vow to never love again, by Liron himself, I would remain blanketed and hidden. I longed for the day when I could be free. I said none of this to him of course. Why would he care about my thoughts? He could not understand me.

“You can trust me. I see that you have suffered wounds beyond healing. I want to help you.”

“You could never know me. I have never trusted anyone with my secrets. I do not know your name, or if you are friend or foe. If you must know, I have lost all. None can heal this. None, least of all a stranger who is like a shadow of the past. Leave me to my pain.”

Then I let the tears fall freely, shaking with the weight of my sobs. I sank to my knees, my long black hair cascading into my face. He knelt down and pulled the hair back from my face. He tilted my face up to look at him, sympathy in his eyes.

“I am truly sorry. I did not mean to bring back painful memories. I am Legolas of Mirkwood, and I swear that as long as you will have me, I will guide you. I know of a place where you may find healing.”

“I know now why I saw you in my dreams. It was a vision telling me where I may find healing. Now that I know who you are, I am honored to have you as my guide. I am called Feanir, Feanir of the Golden Arrow. I was given that title long ago in Kearin Forest.”

“Curious, curious.”

“What is curious?”

“Feanir means spirit of fire and your eyes dance as if they truly are aflame.”

“A fitting name then it is.”

“Truly, how can I trust you?”

“I can give you my word as a prince.”

“I’ve known too many royalty.’

“You must have not have met many from my home. How can you judge my heart? And how do I know yours?”

“Well, to settle this, I have only one thing to say. Not all royalty have hearts of stone. That applies to both of us.”

“You are royalty then?”

“If you wish to call me that. But my realm is long since destroyed. It matters not, since none trust me.

“Is that so?”

“Trust me. Ironic, but trust me if none other will.” I glanced up at him, doubt in my mind at why he cared about a lost traveler. If this was to lead to another fiasco like that with Kardim, who had fallen in love with me, I wanted no part in it. But maybe he could help. “Lead, then.”

Nodding, he asked, “Can you mount?”

“Of course. I’m not some helpless damsel in distress. No great warrior, but I do know how to ride.” Irked, I mounted, and he walked beside the horse, laughing silently. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and slapped him across the face.

Reeling, he looked at me questioningly. “Don’t mock me, Prince,” I spat. He simply nodded, and we moved in silence out of the forest. That was not the best of first encounters, but the only friend I seemed to have was him. And so, it began.