brings joy, but it can also break one's heart.
Written for February Teitho theme: Heart Break.
to my beta.
belongs to Tolkien, of course.
When I first
saw her, I thought I had strayed into a dream. In front of my eyes,
on a grassy carpet under the soaring crowns of the trees, in the golden
sunset there walked Lúthien Tinúviel. She was cloaked with a blue
mantle embroidered with silver. The last sun rays entwined with her
long dark hair as it waved in the wind, and it glimmered like a net
of tiny jewels. What else could she be but a dream? I was afraid to
blink, in fear that the wondrous figure in front of me would simply
disappear, and I would remain behind, alone.
Before I knew
what I was doing, I called her by Lúthien's name and shyly greeted
her. She then turned to me, and I joyfully realized that I wasn't dreaming.
She greeted me in reply, and from her words, I found out this wasn't
the first time someone called her by Lúthien's name. She smiled, leaving
me breathless. I've never seen a fairer maiden, nor have I been illuminated
by a more magical smile. Never have I seen more beautiful eyes, blue
gray like the stormy sky, and as brilliant as stars.
I loved her from the first moment. And I knew I'd love her forever.
No other could ever overshadow her image. She captured my heart and
soul, I belonged only to her. I could talk to her for hours, and I'd
never lack themes; I could look into her fathomless wise eyes forever,
and I'd never tire of them; I could listen to hear singing in the woods
for all time, and I'd love her every moment more and more.
daughter of Elrond. However honorable my ancestors were, her lineage
was nobler than mine, and my youth was but a blink compared to the span
of her years. Thus far in my life, I have treasured my youth, but now
I regretted not being older and wiser. What would Elrond say if he knew
about my feelings? Would he deem me unworthy of his daughter, in spite
of my virtues? Most probably. What could I hope for? But no one can
command a heart, nor can cold words change feelings. My love grew, I
lived for my beloved.
I met her occasionally,
when she was not with her family, and each new encounter filled my heart
with greater joy. By night, I dreamed of her. Arwen Undómiel, mistress
of my heart. My queen. By day, I became silent, intent on my thoughts.
I could think of nothing else but her. My mother soon noticed I had
changed and, moved by concern, asked me what troubled me. I finally
confided in her, but she could not help me. My beloved was high above
me, just as unreachable as Lúthien herself. By night, in those silent
dark hours when the shadows are longest and courage wanes, I began to
think that I'd be doomed to eternal wandering and solitude, far from
her, for my deeds would never be worthy of her.
But the hope
of a heart in love can not be quenched. After all, did not Beren, against
all odds, win the heart and hand of his beloved? Their fate gave me
both hope and strength. Couldn't I, by some miracle, achieve love just
as Beren had? Could it happen that Arwen might love me too? Carried
by that weak, but persistent flame of hope, I decided to reveal my heart
The next day
I caught sight of her and headed towards her, filled with fear and hope
at the same time, my heart beating wildly inside my chest. But I froze
in the place, paralyzed. She walked under the branches of a great mallorn,
going towards a tall man clad in white and silver garment. He was cloaked
by a grey mantle usually worn by our woodland people and he had a bright
white gem on his brow. A Man? I blinked in utter surprise. Who is he
and where did he come from? But even before I could consider those questions,
I saw Arwen approach him. They fell into embrace; her head rested on
no obstacle for elven eyes; I clearly saw love and serenity on their
faces. He held her in his arms, and she returned his embrace with joy.
They whispered soft words and smiled, completely unaware of the world
around them. And with every second, my world was breaking more and more.
With every new beat, my heart bled more and more. I was too late. Or
perhaps, that one day I delayed was not important after all; perhaps
she loved him since long ago. I'll never know. I didn't know who her
beloved was, either. All I knew was that I'd never know the happiness
he had felt – the blessing of holding her in my arms.
I turned and
melted into the woods, knowing from here until the end of Arda I would
carry within me an empty heart.
So, have I
fooled you? :D