Disclaimer: I do not own anything belonging to Tolkien. The genres should have one added: Insanity
I only need him. He is here with me now, and he asks me questions. He hasn't been here for quite a long time now, and I miss him when he is not here, but I cherish our time together until we go out to battle. Even then, he is with me, but he is not with me. There's no need for useless questions on how I am doing, for he knows - he always knows, and I cannot escape his eye, for we are one.
...My own... Our soul... Marred... Broken...
It is as if I am smiling in a mirror, but I am the mirror, it seems, and he is the caster of the reflection that I become.
Give it to me...
How shall I answer his question? Maedhros isn't doing very well, after being rescued. Maglor has lost his love to sing, and Celegorm, Caranthir, and Curufin are off on their own adventures, away from us.
We may alternate between verses, and I see grey while he sees the burning light of the sun, the cool beams of the moon. We speak to each other of things, useless in aspect but still comforting to at least me. He's always standing there at the dock of the ship, and his coppery hair is always blowing forwards, as if the fire itself is consuming him already before I can even speak to him. I cannot see anything but him, at that point, and then, a flash of red, choking, asphyxiating, and I am enclosed in grey.
I shall claim...
It's always the border line that allows us to see each other.
For the most part, we do not speak aloud to each other. All is needed are gazes into each other's eyes, and I know what he wants from me. He has my spirit. And I cannot live while he is dead. However though I may wish to, and however though I may continue to drift out of consciousness, there is always the underlining of grey beneath my sanity that will keep me from retaining it.
...for my own.
What the hell is wrong with me.
Yes, I honestly would like to know.
If you're confused about it, I'd be glad to explain it to you.
Please do share your opinion.