In The Hall of Fire
(This poem was first read at the weekly elven roleplay event in the Hall of Fire at Imaldris. It is a dramatic monologue spoken by an elf who has been asked to show a visitor - a Man - around the Hall of Fire.)
Welcome, my lord, we are not often graced
By guests such as thyself. I speak, of course
Of Secondborn, whose hot blood runs its course
For such brief space of time. Hmm, Lord Elrond
Hopes we find you in the very best
Of health and bids me show me you Imaldris.
I hope you’ll be uplifted, as am I,
In these high hallways as we cross wide floors,
Their marbled coolness urging softer tread,
Lest echoing footsteps break the quiet here.
I often think that it is apt that we
Whose blood has slowed so, down the countless years,
Should dwell within these cold and stony walls.
Come, let me lead you to my favourite place
Where oft I muse upon the Firstborn’s fate.
Look, see how exquisite the tracery,
These seashells sculptured on the archway here.
Dim candles ever burn to light the way
Of any who would seek the Hall of Fire.
I see you marvel at the vastness of this place.
No, not for these hearths is this place so called,
Whose heat would scarcely warm this spacious Hall,
But for the Great Hearth’s fire. We’ll come there soon.
What’s there, you ask? A pool of cooling waters,
Gently rippling ‘neath mosaic tiles.
Let us ascend the stairs. Upwards direct your gaze
To where the ceiling, domed, portrays the stars,
The canopy of night, the heavens, and here,
Upon this tapestry, the Silver Flower.
.
Oft I have sat and gazed upon these sights,
And thought upon the beauty of this world –
But wondered too on that which lies beyond,
Denied to us, but not to thee. Forgive.
My thoughts do roam too far. Let’s walk some more.
There sits a scholar at his books, well read
In lore and history. Most every day
You’ll find him here. Stands there another who
In deepest meditation spends his time
And thinks upon the wonders of this earth.
I, too, have thought upon these things but no
Conclusion reached; I find too readily my thoughts
Fly to the woods and nights spent ‘neath the stars.
The drape upon the facing wall, that ship,
Reminds us of the journey we must make.
But when? Come, let us to the stair walk back,
I’ll lead you unto where fierce fires roar.
Oh! ‘Mae Govannen, lady!’. She is one
Who tends upon the guests and scholars here.
Sometime, we’ve danced to sound of lute and song,
In woodland glades, rejoiced with merry throng,
How elegant her step, her flowing robe –
You’ll feel the heat rise as we carry on.
Ah! See that maid who at her songbook pores.
She sings here when we feast; her voice as sweet
As honey flows, her movement in the dance
Such as with that of Nessa might compare.
Too often now, the halls in silence lie.
So many make the journey to the West.
Alas! Does Middle-earth truly fade so fast?
I do forget my duties as thy guide!
Now see beneath these carven pillars here
The fires blaze. Are you too warm? I feel
A stirring in the blood when I here stay.
The flames, their thunder echoing round the walls
Burn bright and never die. Why should not we
Remain to light the beauty of this world?
Please, take your time to look. These statues here,
Of elven ways and stories something tell.
I think that you must here stand quite amazed
By all I’ve shown. I too become unsettled in this place
Though I may come here every day. Let’s sit
And take some wine fermented by the vintner here.
Perhaps you’d tell me something of yourself?
One question, which I scarcely dare to ask -
How is it that in such short span of years
You may enjoy the gifts this earth bestows,
Lead lives which seem so vibrant, love so well!
I see…
Let us together make our way once more
To where I know Lord Elrond waits on thee.
I hope you have learned much from this short stay,
And I have taught you something of our lore.
