The Color of Twilight - by Crunch
Well, here it is, for better or worse, my very first LOTR fic! It's set on the morning after the battle of Helm's Deep.
Oh, uh. . . I do apoligize if I've mangled the brilliance that is LOTR in any way, but eh, we'll see what happens. PLEASE tell me if there's anything I did wrong, or maybe even right, who knows? Enjoy!
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His eyes were the color of twilight, an indescribable mixture of the truest, deepest blues and richest purples, all mingling together in the glow of the rosy dawn now breaking over the blood-stained battlements of Helm's deep. Those eyes were a sight so haunting, you could believe they weren't meant to be gazed into by a mere human. By my accounts, I was either the luckiest human alive for having done just that, or the most wretched.
The second seems more likely, for at the moment, it pained me greatly to see his eyes awash with fresh grief and age-old weariness as he scanned the horizons, littered with the ruined bodies of man, elf, and orc alike. He was alone, apart from us, as always. The remainder of our troops had long since retreated beyond the familiar, if crumbling, stone walls to tend to their wounds, embrace their famillies and weep for their dead. He did not weep.
Instead, he stood framed against the sky with a look of unsurpassable sorrow on his sculpted elvish features, his molten marble complexion stained with the blood of his foes and kin. Words can do no justice to how deeply I wished to comfort him, but even I knew that was a hopeless dream. . .
"Will you not approach him?" My heart thrust itself against my ribs as the gruff voice from behind me shattered my daydreams. 'Foolish girl' I scolded myself for being caught unawares. I'd never been so fluttery or wreckless with my emotions before, and I couldn't afford to lose myself in thought now, not even in the company of friends, for these were perilous days.
I mustered my dignity and turned to see the hint of a smile on Aragorn's tired face. Only days ago, I might have been thrilled at this chance for conversation with the infamous Ranger, caught up in the silly throes of a child's crush, but now. . . how quickly things change.
"I said, will you not approach him?"
"Of course not. He is grieving."
"And do you not wish to ease his pain?" I felt my cheeks flush with the fire of shame and indignance at the gentle laughter trickling from his lips.
"Pain is nothing to sneer at, sir."
"Nor is love." I'm afraid that my utter surprise at his reply showed in the pale of my face.
"Love? I'm afraid you've gotten the wrong impression, Aragorn."
"Really? I've seen you watching him, your eyes follow him as if he were the north star. It is nothing to be ashamed of." Taking my smouldering silence for resignation, the Ranger pressed forwards. "He's not like you and me, you know." Ofcourse I knew that. He was nothing like us. He was far better. We were both still for a moment as I shifted back and forth between anger at Aragorn's audacity, and acceptance that my secret was known. Finally, as rage would do me little good, I nodded.
"Do you think I'm a fool?" Aragorn smiled kindly, thinking this over as his calloused fingers strayed towards the glittering jewel he wore tucked inside his tunic.
"No, I do not. Legolas is an elf, and it is very easy to fall in love with an elf." He winked knowingly and took a seat on the charred castle steps, motioning for me to do the same. After a moment of reflection, he spoke, still fingering the necklace. "But falling in love is the only easy part. After all, elves and humans. . . they follow such different paths. They are not meant to be together." There was sorrow in his voice, and something more that I could not place. . . perhaps it was longing. "The time of the elves is drawing to a close, and the time of man is beginning."
"Unless Sauron has his way."
"That won't happen." I glanced at him in disbelief, wondering how the man could feel so certain. Sencing my uncertainty, he chuckled. "Not if all of the men, women, and children of Rohan are as stubborn as yourself. No, good must win, no matter what the price. But, in the end, when the future is decided for better or worse, the elves will be left in an age to which they will never belong, while our race moves onwards. They will never be one with us."
"It's not fair."
His smile fading, Aragorn sheilded his eyes with one leathery hand and glanced towards Legolas, beautiful and surreal against the pearly light of dawn. "No, it isn't. But this is the way of things." I shivered at the small catch in his voice, the tears glistening in his eyes. I knew he was sad for a reason, though he didn't seem to want to give it, and I wasn't going to ask.
"You know what I say to that, Aragorn? Anything worth anything is worth fighting for."
"Thank you, Eowyn. That was. . . helpful beyond words." I sniffed in annoyance at his teasing. Men, they're a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.
"Well, what I mean is, should we cease to fight for the freedom of Middle Earth for fear it won't be easy?"
"Of course not."
"And would you cease to fight for your lady," I brushed a finger against the smooth crystal of the pendant, recalling one of our earlier conversations, "because it would be easier to let her sail to the undying lands, never to be heard from again?"
"I- No." A spark of hope shone across his weary features, like the first rays of sunlight after the darkest hour. "No, I will fight for my lady." He thought about this for another moment, a smile slowly creasing his eyes. "I will fight for my lady."
It suddenly occurred to me, as I watched Aragorn stand and stride towards the castle with a fresh purpose in his step, how vital it is that we win, because we are fighting Sauron not only because we want to live, but because we want to love. At this thought, I smiled and looked towards the east, where my own love stood, watching the sunrise with eyes the color of twilight.
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So, what do you think? Oh yeah, and sorry to all you diehard Aragorn and Eowyn shippers, if there are any, it's just my little story! Please don't flame! Reviews appreciated!
Well, here it is, for better or worse, my very first LOTR fic! It's set on the morning after the battle of Helm's Deep.
Oh, uh. . . I do apoligize if I've mangled the brilliance that is LOTR in any way, but eh, we'll see what happens. PLEASE tell me if there's anything I did wrong, or maybe even right, who knows? Enjoy!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
His eyes were the color of twilight, an indescribable mixture of the truest, deepest blues and richest purples, all mingling together in the glow of the rosy dawn now breaking over the blood-stained battlements of Helm's deep. Those eyes were a sight so haunting, you could believe they weren't meant to be gazed into by a mere human. By my accounts, I was either the luckiest human alive for having done just that, or the most wretched.
The second seems more likely, for at the moment, it pained me greatly to see his eyes awash with fresh grief and age-old weariness as he scanned the horizons, littered with the ruined bodies of man, elf, and orc alike. He was alone, apart from us, as always. The remainder of our troops had long since retreated beyond the familiar, if crumbling, stone walls to tend to their wounds, embrace their famillies and weep for their dead. He did not weep.
Instead, he stood framed against the sky with a look of unsurpassable sorrow on his sculpted elvish features, his molten marble complexion stained with the blood of his foes and kin. Words can do no justice to how deeply I wished to comfort him, but even I knew that was a hopeless dream. . .
"Will you not approach him?" My heart thrust itself against my ribs as the gruff voice from behind me shattered my daydreams. 'Foolish girl' I scolded myself for being caught unawares. I'd never been so fluttery or wreckless with my emotions before, and I couldn't afford to lose myself in thought now, not even in the company of friends, for these were perilous days.
I mustered my dignity and turned to see the hint of a smile on Aragorn's tired face. Only days ago, I might have been thrilled at this chance for conversation with the infamous Ranger, caught up in the silly throes of a child's crush, but now. . . how quickly things change.
"I said, will you not approach him?"
"Of course not. He is grieving."
"And do you not wish to ease his pain?" I felt my cheeks flush with the fire of shame and indignance at the gentle laughter trickling from his lips.
"Pain is nothing to sneer at, sir."
"Nor is love." I'm afraid that my utter surprise at his reply showed in the pale of my face.
"Love? I'm afraid you've gotten the wrong impression, Aragorn."
"Really? I've seen you watching him, your eyes follow him as if he were the north star. It is nothing to be ashamed of." Taking my smouldering silence for resignation, the Ranger pressed forwards. "He's not like you and me, you know." Ofcourse I knew that. He was nothing like us. He was far better. We were both still for a moment as I shifted back and forth between anger at Aragorn's audacity, and acceptance that my secret was known. Finally, as rage would do me little good, I nodded.
"Do you think I'm a fool?" Aragorn smiled kindly, thinking this over as his calloused fingers strayed towards the glittering jewel he wore tucked inside his tunic.
"No, I do not. Legolas is an elf, and it is very easy to fall in love with an elf." He winked knowingly and took a seat on the charred castle steps, motioning for me to do the same. After a moment of reflection, he spoke, still fingering the necklace. "But falling in love is the only easy part. After all, elves and humans. . . they follow such different paths. They are not meant to be together." There was sorrow in his voice, and something more that I could not place. . . perhaps it was longing. "The time of the elves is drawing to a close, and the time of man is beginning."
"Unless Sauron has his way."
"That won't happen." I glanced at him in disbelief, wondering how the man could feel so certain. Sencing my uncertainty, he chuckled. "Not if all of the men, women, and children of Rohan are as stubborn as yourself. No, good must win, no matter what the price. But, in the end, when the future is decided for better or worse, the elves will be left in an age to which they will never belong, while our race moves onwards. They will never be one with us."
"It's not fair."
His smile fading, Aragorn sheilded his eyes with one leathery hand and glanced towards Legolas, beautiful and surreal against the pearly light of dawn. "No, it isn't. But this is the way of things." I shivered at the small catch in his voice, the tears glistening in his eyes. I knew he was sad for a reason, though he didn't seem to want to give it, and I wasn't going to ask.
"You know what I say to that, Aragorn? Anything worth anything is worth fighting for."
"Thank you, Eowyn. That was. . . helpful beyond words." I sniffed in annoyance at his teasing. Men, they're a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.
"Well, what I mean is, should we cease to fight for the freedom of Middle Earth for fear it won't be easy?"
"Of course not."
"And would you cease to fight for your lady," I brushed a finger against the smooth crystal of the pendant, recalling one of our earlier conversations, "because it would be easier to let her sail to the undying lands, never to be heard from again?"
"I- No." A spark of hope shone across his weary features, like the first rays of sunlight after the darkest hour. "No, I will fight for my lady." He thought about this for another moment, a smile slowly creasing his eyes. "I will fight for my lady."
It suddenly occurred to me, as I watched Aragorn stand and stride towards the castle with a fresh purpose in his step, how vital it is that we win, because we are fighting Sauron not only because we want to live, but because we want to love. At this thought, I smiled and looked towards the east, where my own love stood, watching the sunrise with eyes the color of twilight.
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So, what do you think? Oh yeah, and sorry to all you diehard Aragorn and Eowyn shippers, if there are any, it's just my little story! Please don't flame! Reviews appreciated!