Voice, Open

[bythewaves]

[ Grief, as deep as the sea, as endless as the sky. Pain, like sheeting ice, in the voice that speaks... and for those with ears to hear, a tiny, quiet envy and relief. ]

For those who knew them, the list of those freed from this world now includes the Lady Galadriel and her husband, the Lord Celeborn, their daughter, the Lady Celebrian, the Lady Idril, and Maedhros my brother. Also, the Lady Sif, who counted us as family in lieu of those left in her own world.

Their things are with me, but they left no letters behind.

Comments

[sculptor_of_aman]

...I would hear it, when you wish to play it.

[bythewaves]

[ He opens his mouth and then hesitates and shakes his head ]

Sorry. Not. Not yet. I cannot... it hurts too much right now.

[sculptor_of_aman]

Another time, then.

...do you remember the last song for your grandfather? Perhaps that one is more fitting for the occasion.

[bythewaves]

[ He nods and leans against her. He does not have his harp, but he does not need it. Soft and sad he sings the dirge that lamented the passing of Light and the death of the King, the death of his grandfather. ]

Ochone, ochone, the King is dead
The Light is passed into Shadow
Where now is the Morning?
Ochone, ochone, my grandfather is dead
The joy is gone from my heart
And only tears remain