New Challenge: Potluck Bingo
Sit down to a delicious selection of prompts served on bingo boards, created by the SWG community.
Written for SWG Orctober for this image [location: The Tooth (Barad Nimras)] and fffc November mini bingo Table 4, for the prompts "light" and "pillow".
Also fills a square for lyricaltitles bingo 2024: Last line of a song. Title from the song "Blue Sky Moon" by Caitlin Canty.
On the Helcaraxë, it seems as if all color and warmth have been leached from the world. Around them are only ice and snow and shadows in stark white and black; their only light the stars overhead and a few precious lanterns carried in chilled hands. (There are no trees on the Ice, no wood; the torches they brought from Tirion are soon consumed.)
Lalwen is starved for light, longs for it more than their meagre food. She clings to her memories of brightness and warmth: lazy afternoons under the golden light of Laurelin, the yellow and orange flowers in Elemmírë’s garden with their soft petals (but not as soft as Elemmírë’s lips), looking back through the darkness toward Tirion for the gleam of light atop the high tower . . .
And Elemmírë, Elemmírë, Elemmírë. The sound of Elemmírë’s laughter, waking with Elemmírë’s golden hair spread across the pillow, dancing with light feet and light heart to the music of Elemmírë’s harp. On the Ice, Lalwen cannot spare the breath for singing; but she walks to the rhythm of familiar melodies, and they give her strength to endure.
In Middle-earth, as they build a new home, she dares not dwell in those memories too often. She must harden her heart to bear the deaths of friends and kin, those who follow her in trust and loyalty. She must learn to wield sword and bow in deadly earnest. She must learn to kill without flinching. (Only Orcs, they say; but there are stories she dares not examine too closely, that even Orcs were once her own people, broken and tormented. How can she shed blood without regret? But it must not become a stone to drag her down.)
Lalwen’s heart is no longer light; she is not the laughing maiden she was once in Aman. When she dances, it is to celebrate a victory. She knows what it has cost them, this land and this breathing-space of peace; she dances for both the living and the dead, and she feels the weight of it every time her feet touch the earth.