Better late than never. Silm poems for Digdigil and Enis..

[ford-of-bruinen.livejournal.com]

Poetry meme revisited: http://www.livejournal.com/users/ford_of_bruinen/42366.html

Digdigil's request "How about something sexy or angsty involving Caranthir? We don't hear too much about him!" Well I tried for a bit of both...


I run my hands over muscles
harder than steel
kneading out the tensions
of the day that passed
I run my hand
through silk and over velvet
caressing hair and skin
that breathes of life
His body shimmers in the light of the fire
a faint glow of copper
in ivory skin
He breathes,
his chest rising and falling,
his voice silenced
by weariness and despair.
I do not judge
the way that others judge him
I do not turn my back
and walk away
I see him enter sometimes
dressed in sadness
blood still clinging to the clothes he wears.
I hate the dimness in his eyes
the torment
and so I rise and meet him
by the door.
I gently run my hands
over his body
kneading out the sorrows
that I know are there.
They call him dark and violent
and quick of temper
but no matter what he does
he stays the same.
Where others see an evil
or a foulness
I only see a soul
that's cloaked in pain.

Eni's request was "I think... Finarfin coming back to repent after the Doom of the Noldor and all that, throwing himself on the mercy of the Valar. And bonus points if you can get Ingwë in there too."



My steps are heavy
my soul broken
as I lead my people back
over sands and grass and mountains.
No journey has ever felt this long.
The buildings of Tirion gleam
in the darkness
lit by lanterns
of those that stayed behind.
We walk quietly through streets we knew
gardens where we played as children
houses where once we ruled
outcasts, fallen.
betrayers.
My mother lingers still
in the palace where my father left her
deserted her to follow his oldest son.
Is Earwen sitting beside her,
her blue eyes darkened by grief
does she hate me, I wonder,
for what my brother did?
Slow are our steps as we walk through Tirion,
moving in silence towards our doom.

Ingwe awaits us upon the steps of Taniquetil
his eyes cold, full of judgement.
How dare he judge?
He who never lived in my fathers house
who never felt the sickness of hatred creep through the halls
and streets of his city.
How dare he?

I raise my head as I enter.
I will meet my judgement with pride
I will stand tall
and be my father's son,
and my brother's brother my mind whispers,
reminding me of where pride
have lead my people.
I keep my face free of emotions
a king cannot be ruled by feeling
if my heart ruled me I would have died
fallen to pieces and shattered
the very day that the ships burnt
and my wife's father
fell by my brother's hand.
How did we fail to see his madness,
how deep it had become,
how it had eaten all that once was bright
and beautiful.
For he was beautiful once
my oldest brother, the hero of my childhood
who never once had time
for his little brothers.
I have reached my doom at least, their eyes upon me.
"Mercy," I manage to whisper
and fall to my knees.

Comments

[digdigil.livejournal.com]

Mmmm....beautiful and sensual. Thank you so much Uli.

[ford-of-bruinen.livejournal.com]

You are welcome. I struggled with this one I will admit. If caranthir ever gets more cooperative you may end up getting a second one too as something niggles at me about taht one *lol*

*hugs*

Uli