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Shoutbox

Alquien
04/22/17 01:23 am
Has anyone heard anything else from Spiced lately?
Ysilme
04/17/17 11:36 am
Big hugs to you, Spiced, I hope you're already a bit better! ***hugs***
Alquien
04/17/17 04:38 am
Hope you are feeling better now Spiced. *hugs*
ziggy
04/16/17 01:40 am
So glad to see you back, Spiced:x
Spiced Wine
04/15/17 09:30 am
Thank you, my loves. I hope you all have a lovely Easter
Yseult
04/15/17 07:22 am
Oh, Spiced! Sending you lots of good thoughts and vibes for a speedy recovery. Hugs!
Gabriel
04/14/17 10:04 am
Hi there, Cheekybeak, great to see there's another Kiwi out there too.
Naledi
04/14/17 08:50 am
Glad you're okay, too, Gabriel!
cheekybeak
04/14/17 08:38 am
Oh! Gabriel, another kiwi. Hi!
Gabriel
04/14/17 04:00 am
Thanks for thinking of us all in nz, Naledi, we're good.
Shout Archive


Spring Comes to Arda by Erulisse

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Story notes:
Author’s Notes: Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sand box; I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.
Spring Comes to Arda

Payments of blood and lives had been given, by all gathered below.

“Our Oath still stands,” my brother said while sitting atop new-formed cliffs,

White birds aloft circled freshly-encroaching sea, the earth had been broken.

Below, amidst mud of forces gathered, the tent of our quarry stood,

Mighty Enw, now guarding two jewels prized from a crown of iron.

“They must be ours,” my brother said, arming for a moonless night's mission,

Our swords were sharp, our cause was just, and once again we took up the quest.

No others had rights to them but we, the two remaining of seven,

Payments of blood and lives had been given by five for these which awaited us below.

“Two yet remain,” my brother said, two jewels, two stones of heritage, two pending deaths,

From the tent we retrieved them, fulfilled that sworn to more than an Age before.

We held once more those taken by Evil, pain struck our souls and bodies both,

Darkness had been vanquished, now could be birthed Arda's newborn spring.

“The pain is just,” my brother said as steam rose ahead of him and his feet trod air,

Lava below embraced him, encased him, and cleansed him, a grave of living fire.

Aul collected the jewel, buried it in heat and cauterized its wounds,

He barricaded it from baleful vapors, allowed its purification by living rock.

“Our Oath is death,” I screamed into air, and pain drove me to the nascent shore,

Hand throbbing deep drumbeats, I sang prayers for salvation of this unclean burden (not mine - my hope had long fled).

Making a mighty throw, Ulmo then catching, he carried the shining jewel, down into the depths,

His arts used pressure and darkness to cleanse its noxious poisons entrapped by the waters.

Payments of blood and lives were given, but still I remain,

Walking mere steps from madness, eternal pain confirms my damnation.

Only one remains, the last of a distinguished line, now doomed to wander,

How far can I fall, a former Prince of Tirion?

Chapter end notes:
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