Turgon the Wise | Sarafinwë Turukáno (turukano) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2013-06-27 23:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open |
Who: Turgon & OTA
What: A tribute to his lost family.
Where: The memorial wall. Again.
When: Sometime Thursday.
Warnings | Status: Talk of death, grief | in progress
They'd gone out to sea the day before. Idril had said they were going sailing, spending the day together. A family, and some friends. They'd convinced Elrond to join them, a remarkable feat given the man's reluctance to be near his father. They'd gone out to sea to be happy. And not one of them had returned. They'd waited anxiously for them to come back, anxiously to see the ship on the horizon but in his heart of hearts Turgon knew they were gone. The island had taken them, it had ripped them away from him as sharply as the waters of the Grinding Ice had and it hurt.
He wept openly and without concern as he sat before the wall, upon the ground with his knees in the grassy earth. his head against the wall and hands trembling too much hold the plaque with any grace. It slipped from his fingers and he made no move to catch it as it tumbled to the earth and cracked. He stared down at it, the names he'd so lovingly and sorrowfully carved onto the surface marred. Broken. Just as his family now was. Eärendil only a child, Idril his child and Tuor a son to him. Elrond a man he would never get the chance to know.
He'd put them all on the same stone as he had Aika and Andreth. But what was the point?
Turgon was not supposed to say farewell to his child! He was to die in Gondolin and she--she would escape and have her life, and her happiness. Where had she gone? Turgon bowed his head and buried his face in his hands, his ears drooping to their lowest point, weeping.