Disclaimer: Not mine. Not a cent will be made out of this *snort*
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Notes: My first surjourn into the realm of Tolkien slashdom. This was first posted as part of a RPG, but I thought others might like it. And since S/G stories are so far and few between ... Thank you Izzy for sharing and Tarn for being an inspiration!
The wind blows gently through the open window in the
top-most chamber of the tower of Orthanc. My residence, my fortress.
My prison ...
I'm held captive here against my will by thoughts of a time when
there still was hope for this land. When the Istari acted and moved
as one, without strife between
them. Without distrust and hatred.
When I called him my love!
"Oh Olorin ... my Olorin, why did you have to be so stubborn? I
didn't want you in pain. No! No ..."
Would he believe me? Now that he has seen my hunger for him, for this
world? Now that he knows this side of me I hadn't thought possible to
rest within myself? When the only way out is to join with the enemy,
in hopes to rise against him later and make things right once more?
Why can't he see my logic? Why didn't he trust me any longer? Have I
changed so much? No!
With a trick I have learned from old Radagast, I call one of those
fragile creatures of the night to my hand. A moth. Hadn't it been one
of these creatures that helped my love escape? Surely, it will serve
me as it served him, and so I talk to this, my unlikely messenger.
"Fly, little moth! Find Gandalf and tell him … how much I miss his
touch and his caresses. His mind. Our union. Tell him of the old
days, when we were one, he and I, and …and…"
The little creature in my palm stirs its wings, and suddenly I am
struck with a wave of futility and despair. Will he even listen to my
message? Will Olorin ever listen to me again?
No. Of course not. I am a foolish old man, and all I have left are my
memories and a promise of a better time which I will help shape. For
me, for him. For what we have been. Together!
I close my eyes and tears run down my cheeks as my fingers close and
squash the last hope I had. Forever to be silenced.
* Listmom for the MACE WINDU ESTROGEN BRIGADE
*"Mace-Pusher!" - The Emu
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