A black and trembling shaft,
A feathered arrow wrought
By dark and hateful hands,
With many others flew.
Long he stood, the valiant,
Firm and strong his sword-arm
Rose and fell; the steel-blade
Now lies soiled and broken.
A black and trembling shaft,
As other arrows sharp,
Was shot at him and hit
His chest and brought him down.
Thus he fell and foundered,
Gondor’s valiant captain;
Stung by many arrows
Shot by many archers.
A black and trembling shaft,
The feathers soiled and stained,
It’s task accomplished now;
At last its trembling stopped.
~Teciltur
Pale Glimmer
– Eöl contemplates his wife –
I drink in your beauty; I breathe it like a madman rolling among spring flowers; I taste it, each wave of sensation tingling in my mouth; I fill all my body with it, and still can’t get enough of you. Of your sight.
Though I had seen you before; I had sensed a coming like a whirlwind, dazzling everything in its wake. My wood would tremble and sigh with the waves of energy invading it from its eaves. I’d drop my work, desert my forge, and rush to catch a glimpse of your passing: a pale glimmer dimming in the distance, a long trail of light, an irresistible pull. I’d shake my head and slowly plod back to my workshop, only to find the embers cooled, the shadows growing, and the deafening echo of silence. And I’d feel solitude howling inside me, tearing away at my ribcage with throbbing pain, pulsing in my temples, carrying my stumbling feet to a stream to cool my face. I’d lie back, my thoughts racing like stampeding Nahar, and take in the beauty of the evening sky, trying to name every star, to revel in our Lady’s gifts. After a while, I’d be serene, peaceful, my mind a clear mirror filled with the splendour of Arda. Our Arda, unmarred to us still, wondrous in darkness and under Elbereth’s lights.
I’d get back to my forge, engulfed in work, hours prolonging into days, months. You’d be relegated to those mysterious recesses of my mind, those whose keys I’d like to cast into Ulmo’s waves, to be buried deeply and forgotten. For what use would I have of an arrogant Noldo princess, riding like a gale through Sinda lands? Every glance she shoots greedily takes in their beauty; every step – a claim of ownership. Self-accursed… Stained… No, I don’t need rumours to read you like an open scroll, white lady. I only have to listen to the spring change its tune and wail at your passing; to the leaves rustle loudly, to the ground trembling. There is some shadow trailing at your footsteps, some doom dimming your glimmering beauty. But oh! so much brighter for it…
Till you decided you’d come my way… I thought my whole universe was swallowed up in light, painful, brilliant, scorching. I know they’d claim you could never have walked my paths of your own free will; I know they’d cry out ‘sorcery!’ and their reckless blood would boil with the desire to exact foolish revenge. But we know better, don’t we, my white lady? You wandered into my lands for the first time; no more pale glimmer fleetingly touching the borders of my sanity. Your quick steps took you to me, and here I was, numb, dazed, lost to your gaze and your amused laughter. You spoke to me; and Valar forgive me, for I have no memory of your words, I could hear naught but your clear voice, with those lilting tones of command and yet grace.
I… I must’ve looked like a wraith, standing there, gaping; like the barbarian wood elf your brothers and cousins are so quick at looking down on. I walked to you as if in a dream, took your hand and sank into those dark eyes on your silver-white face. I know you felt just as lost too, for you were suddenly silent and bewitched. I asked you: “Ply your troth to me… Leave your doom behind, and be the light to chase away my darkness. And I’ll be the love to chase away your hate. Be my world…”
And you have been, ever since. Now I watch you laughing; running with that boundless energy that passes through me like an irresistible wave; ever busying yourself, with that inquisitiveness of your kind that simply cannot leave things be, and accept them for what they are. I watch your womb swelling with my son, and I know that one’s heart can be too frail to contain happiness. Sometimes, it hurts so much I moan and dig my palms into my temples to stop the pain. I silently swear to you, my white lady, you shall always be safe, safe in my arms that try not to hold you too close for fear they’d crush you, hurt your white beauty. I’ll keep you away from the howling world, the prowling beasts clawing at our love. I will protect you. You’ll always be my pale glimmer. Mine…
~Nenya_Ring
An Ent Awakens
Turn your eyes to the golden sun,
In her splendid, blazing beauty
Take a long stride, just for fun,
To stretch your Ent legs, steady!
Laugh with the blossomed trees,
Breathe in the fragrant air,
Secretly smile to the Elves
Hiding in the woods, somewhere!
~Nenya_Ring
There was an attractive young warden
Who would march through Lothorien’s garden
He liked to wear hoods
And live in the woods
Haladir was his name and he certainly did not look in the Fountain!
~Uinen_Alcarin
Return of Light
Oh would that I could tell you more
of Elanor the hobbit-elf,
Whose father faced the blasts unswerved
And master served more dear than self.
For in his heart a seed was sown
And need was grown, with Rose to dwell
And father one whose winsome heart
Was in some part Galadriel.
‘Tis Elanor who shields the light
And wields it bright to farther shore,
That elven souls, now free to roam,
May speed them home from Valinor.
~Cirdaneth
