Under the Fading Trees
It was supposed to be Fall.
In the visions her father had told her, the red light of evening had last lit Estel’s face, and the wind chilling her face blew falling leaves. But here she was, in the vast and empty groves of Lorien, alone - and the grass was green at her feet, the mallorns in the full leaf of Summer.
Her children had understood her sorrow, but not why she left. Elessar had ever bound her here, not them. They were still in bloom, as Gondor was.
The grass was soft, warm, beneath her back.
Winter would come.
It was supposed to be Fall.
In the visions her father had told her, the red light of evening had last lit Estel’s face, and the wind chilling her face blew falling leaves. But here she was, in the vast and empty groves of Lorien, alone - and the grass was green at her feet, the mallorns in the full leaf of Summer.
Her children had understood her sorrow, but not why she left. Elessar had ever bound her here, not them. They were still in bloom, as Gondor was.
The grass was soft, warm, beneath her back.
Winter would come.
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Date: 2005-05-02 04:10 am (UTC)