New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
Therefore it came into the hearts of Fëanor and his sons to seize all the ships and depart suddenly; for they had retained the mastery of the fleet since the battle of the Haven, and it was manned only by those who had fought there and were bound to Fëanor. And as though it came at his call, there sprang up a wind from the north-west, and Fëanor slipped away secretly with all whom he deemed true to him, and went aboard, and put out to sea, and left Fingolfin in Araman.
The Silmarillion: Chapter 9 Of the Flight of the Noldor
There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bring me out the dark,
All he wanted was the quiet: no sounds, no smell of blood, no the feel of a blade cutting his flesh. With a snarl he had let everyone know that he wanted to be alone and they let him be. Here in this isolated spot on board of the swan ship he wondered if he should be alone as his skin started to itch.
The bandage around his hands and arms could not hide the smell of crusted blood, the now quiet waves could not drive away the screams of agony in his ears. He felt so tired, so weary and fever-ridden, and the sea seemed to call out to him as if it would take away all that violated his senses and put out this fire that still raged on inside him.
He knew, this could not go on, even the slightest thought of that massacre felt as if he would balance on the fragile cord that was his sanity, he could either jump or cut ties with his guilt, to tuck it away as if he did not kill so many during the insane battle.
He could silence it or himself by throwing himself into the sea: to roll into the deep, joining his body with the tears spilled and those fallen.
Finally, I can see you crystal clear,
Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your sheet bare,
See how I'll leave with every piece of you,
Don't underestimate the things that I will do,
Yet he knew, oh he knew that he was needed: his father, his brothers and his people who he had dragged into this all: Foresworn to the everlasting darkness if he would cower. If he could show that he had pulled himself together, to simply tell himself that this never happened, to tuck away this dark memory into the corner of his mind. To be honest: what would the alternative achieve? There was no turning back: he would not surrender himself that easily. What leader could he be if he washed ashore lifeless? If it all took was to bury this, to not speak or mention; to not look back and only think of tomorrow, he would gladly take it. It was time: time to move on. To heal and forget, to claim what was rightfully theirs.
There's a fire starting in my heart,
Reaching a fever pitch and it's bring me out the dark...
Rolling in the Deep is a song by Adele that fully inspired this piece. The lines in italics are the starting lines of her song.