Thread: Nothing left
As I'm German, this is a German fanfic...
Perhaps I'll translate it, but for now it's in german....
It's about an elven maiden alone in some big city, perhaps Manhatten... and she nows shes the last one, the last one who is left of her people...
I really hope, that there's somebody, who'll read it and give my a review... Pleeeaaasssseee!!!
I am very sorry but we have had to delete this post as it is not in English and the rules are quite clear that all posts must be in English.
I have asked Idril to repost it in English if possible.
Vee - Council Member
First, I have to apologize! I'm really very sorry, that I didn't see that rule.
Well, I think, I will try to translate the fanfiction into english and then post it again.
I hope, that that is ok.
Good luck and see you around, Idril.
I did find it slightly ironic (as did Amarie) that the title was Nothing Left.....
Best Wishes! We'll be waiting.
@Amarie: Thank you very much, I 'll read them at once...
Ok... so, now I really translated it- or lets say I tried. *g*
Of course it's not as good as the version in German, as I only had 4 years of learning English in school, but I really hope you'll give me some reviews as well.
How long ago did it happen? How much time has passed? How many times did the sun rise at the horizon for sinking down again in the evening? How many times did I see Earendil rise in the evening in brilliance?
Once he gave me hope.
But now I’m sitting here, asking myself, how much time has passed, since I last walked through the golden forest, since I last saw one of my people, for how much time I’m suffering now.
I’m feeling, how salty tears run down my face. How many times in those last years did I sit here like this and cried, lost in old memories and millions of questions?
How much time is it ago, that I last begged the Valar for help? For comfort? Just for a little motion. A motion to show me, that my world has not completely passed by. But the Valar betrayed me.
No help came, no comfort, no motion.
Now I’m sitting here like every evening on the little balcony of concrete, following with blurred eyes the lights of the many cars passing by beneath me. Humans are driving them. Perhaps they are Fathers who are coming home now after a long day of work, telling happily of their day, hugging their children and wives.
But who is with me? Nobody!
I’m alone in this grey world, I have to walk around cloaked for surviving.
I bury my face in my hands; run my fingers over dry skin. I’m haggard, little eating these days. Every day I fight with the idea of just stopping breathing one day, the idea of finding release and being able to leave this world.
But I know I’m not able.
Because I’m the last one, that is left here. The last one left of my folk, that was once so fair and pride. I don’t know why I’m still alive. I daily think I would die of my mourning and my pain.
Once there were more of us here. Tall, blonde and fair figures, always wearing hats or scarves to cover their ears, they were adored by humans. But all of them died. Died of sadness, of broken hearts, because they realised, that our time had passed by and that we would never manage to teach humans how to love the woods as we did.
I’m raising my head and look up to you, Earendil, once beloved star of our people. Humans don’t know what you were for us. They don’t feel the hope you gave us. Your light didn’t fade with passing time, but the hope in my heart did.
I’m feeling dried out, weak and old, so old.
Now, humans feel sorry with me. When they are watching me when I wander through grey roads, they think I’m still young. But then I hear them whisper behind my back: ’Oh, just look at that poor girl. She is still so young and already this ill. Perhaps she has AIDS? Or perhaps she got cancer? Oh, I’m so sorry with her’’
Yes, they’re having pity with me. Pity. What can pity give me? Friendship? Hope? Love?
No, pity can’t give me that.
’Earendil, I beseech you!’ Through my eyes, that are wet of tears, I see the bright shining star just as a blurred light. My voice now is only a faint whisper.
’Earendil, at least give me back my hope’’
But my weak voice is lost in the noise of traffic on the street below.
I’m at the end. Everything I had was taken from me: the friendship, the hope and the love. And now I’m at the end.
I can’t remember the sweet noise of the gently rippling of Nimrodel any more, the happy laugh of the children, which used to play in the trees of Lothlorien, the rustle of the mellyrn in the wind.
All that is left here are the droning of cars and high skyscrapers with midget, grey flats like my own one.
I don’t now any more who my parents and my brothers and sisters were, who were my friends were and who my Masters.
Just one name is it, that echoes in my mind, as clear as it was on the day I was told of your death. Nimenor. We wanted to marry, but ten you were the first one, who was taken from me brutally.
I cannot remember your face, your laugh and your eyes, cannot remember your voice and your tenderness.
I haben’t anything but your name and I know, that once we felt immortal love for each other.
Now I’m alone and naked in the darkness with my tears. Nothing is left to me. Not even the Memory.
It is so very sad..... I wonder what made her stay on when all others had gone? I'd like more of her story - perhaps you could write some more..... tell us who she was, what she did, why she stayed, who her family and friends were....... what she is doing and will do here? Perhaps she should move to New Zealand.....
Thank you for that. I love it when a story makes me cry.
Death is a gift
perhaps you could write some more.
I agree, you really should write some more! We wantssss it!
First I have to apoloize gain, that didn't mnage to answer sooner. *sig+
But I wasn't at home.
THAAAAAANK YOU ALL! I was so happy (and I still am) hen saw your answers. I didn't really imagine that anybody here would like it.
Of course it makes my absolutel happy, to see you write, that you'd like more... *g+
I haven't written more yet, but thought about it. I already had sort of an idey for it, and... well in fact it's something like the idea about her moving to New Zealand...
But, well in fact I ave to saythat your answers on my story were were motivating.
Well, I didn't really have enough ideas for the conclusio, but I'’m workin on it...
In fact I've written soe poems in English now and I would really like to know, what you think about them...
You can find them under
misc guilds -> shadow poetry...