Riding out
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,585
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,585
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Riding out
They rode, against the wind and against the tide, they rode an endless stream of men. They rode, against the wind and against the song, they rode an endless stream of elves and dwarves. And hobbits flew past on Maiar-made wings, and the skies were dark yet light by the force of magic and hope. They ride, they ride against the wind and against the tide, they ride.
In their minds the Fall of Sauron, an encouragement. In their hearts the Love that burnt so bright it lighted the paths to the War. They had lived and they have died. They had been reborn and they'd return to the dust and to the Halls of Mandos. Their mouths filled with encouraging screams, on the hooves of their steed, steadfastness and courage. The bows, the arrows, the swords and the shield. The axe, the slings, and every little thing.
What folly, one asked? What life surpassed another? None, said the tear-filled eyes and the crying breasts of the women left behind would testify. So loud, so clear, they promised to return - in flesh or in spirit nothing would stop them from returning. The children would greet another morning of peace when the darkness tumbled to the sides. The children would sing of a new dawn, as the riders rode out, as the archers fletched their arrows and the swordsmen and axemen polished their weapons. Pride, joy, love, courage, hatred, vengence, moral, duties all swirled into an unstoppable tangle, a boundless energy that soared upward.
They rode, against the wind and against the tide, they rode and endless stream of warriors. The tower gleamed in front of them, menacing and strong. The power of darkness clashed in the velvet sky, so dark so night, no where to go and no where to hide. There was no route to go back, there was naught in front of them but their destinies.
And they rode, against the wind and against the tide, with conviction in their heart. For dead or alive they would return, in flesh or in spirit they would return, in speech or in song they would live forever. The tears of the women and the laughters of the children, the kisses and sweet promises of a lover. They rode, marched onto their destinies, and they fought. And all else faded into the corners of a page.
In their minds the Fall of Sauron, an encouragement. In their hearts the Love that burnt so bright it lighted the paths to the War. They had lived and they have died. They had been reborn and they'd return to the dust and to the Halls of Mandos. Their mouths filled with encouraging screams, on the hooves of their steed, steadfastness and courage. The bows, the arrows, the swords and the shield. The axe, the slings, and every little thing.
What folly, one asked? What life surpassed another? None, said the tear-filled eyes and the crying breasts of the women left behind would testify. So loud, so clear, they promised to return - in flesh or in spirit nothing would stop them from returning. The children would greet another morning of peace when the darkness tumbled to the sides. The children would sing of a new dawn, as the riders rode out, as the archers fletched their arrows and the swordsmen and axemen polished their weapons. Pride, joy, love, courage, hatred, vengence, moral, duties all swirled into an unstoppable tangle, a boundless energy that soared upward.
They rode, against the wind and against the tide, they rode and endless stream of warriors. The tower gleamed in front of them, menacing and strong. The power of darkness clashed in the velvet sky, so dark so night, no where to go and no where to hide. There was no route to go back, there was naught in front of them but their destinies.
And they rode, against the wind and against the tide, with conviction in their heart. For dead or alive they would return, in flesh or in spirit they would return, in speech or in song they would live forever. The tears of the women and the laughters of the children, the kisses and sweet promises of a lover. They rode, marched onto their destinies, and they fought. And all else faded into the corners of a page.