THE KING OF PEACE, THE KING OF FREEDOM
Written by Dame Éowyn Nullivari-Ibarellan
Dedicated to my son, my Húrin
Húrin, ‘the Rider’, in the lands of Man called Delmor in his final days.
O Ye’ Child of Starry Seas,
Listen well to my plea,
For I have a tale to tell,
Of a king who was true and free.
From the ancient days,
When Man and Elf hated,
He remained true and just,
Until the dawn of the new age.
Húrin, ‘the Rider’,
Who cometh from the west,
Who neither man nor monster,
Could ever hope to best.
Ruler of our people,
He taught us the way,
To travel upon horseback,
Into the silver Sun’s dawn,
No maiden ever saw,
Such a beautiful man,
With hair that of flowery roses,
And eyes of starry skies.
No warrior ever dreamed,
To serve such a fateful king,
Whose mere presence,
Brought an aura of divinity.
No priest ever knew,
A more devout man than he,
Who worshipped our Lord,
In every fiber of his being.
From the western sea,
To the eastern trees,
All rode with the man,
A hive of bees.
But then the Men of Delmor,
From their towering stone,
Came to take from us,
The dream of fields and peace.
We fought in every valley,
On every hill and plain,
For the land that was freedom,
Sacred Malinor.
The Men of Delmor fell,
Both from the blade and the bow,
Our horses stormed forth,
Watching them be shot down!
On the plains of Aedonia,
That is where they made their stand,
Tens of thousands of men,
Tens of thousands of elf.
Then, from the sounds of war,
Came up from the heavens,
Came up from the earth,
In volcanic destruction.
Galmurir, the Drake of Sæwine,
That terrorizing sight,
It rained down hellfire,
Upon all in sight.
Mortal man,
Eternal elf,
Just a single flame.
Burning the plains.
Without thinking, our courageous King,
Rode ahead from our horsemen,
Charging down Galmurir with a spear,
Our king charged on.
Shrieking, screaming,
A ray of fire came down.
That hissing screech,
Yet our King charged on.
His loyal soldiers fell at his side,
Men and women he knew,
From bygone days,
Yet our King charged on.
The Drake of Sæwine,
Flew down to clench,
Men with his teeth,
Yet our King charged on.
And then a strike was heard,
A wound that brought down the Drake,
In one fell swoop.
Falling from the heavens.
But a betrayal from mortal Man,
An arrow whizzing past,
Aimed at our King’s neck,
During this time of trial.
Off his horse, our king fell,
Ungrateful man, celebrating.
The loyal soldiers, crying.
All that were there.
They pounced upon his body,
As he grasped for air.
His last words being,
Unrecognizable for those there.
In anger, our soldiers hunted,
To exterminate the villains,
That brought us such a ruin.
No life would be spared.
But in the morning mist,
When anger subsided,
Mortal men and dragon
Lay dead.
Curse those villains,
Those mortal men,
Our hatred is eternal,
Our anger will never end.
Truth was hard. This was known.
Our king had lay dead.
No rage could bring him back,
Why must he be taken?
The soldiers left the field,
Returning to their homes,
Shaken and ashamed,
Of what had transpired.
Peace and freedom,
Values we have held dear,
Were given to us,
By the King without fear.
They decided to move on,
Heartbroken and depressed,
As I am writing this piece,
Pain within my breast.
O Ye’ Child of Starry Seas,
Cry upon this very day.
For how could such a friend,
Be taken by the Lord?
And this is where I leave off,
About Húrin ‘the Rider’,
For it is too hard on the soul,
To remember the King of Peace.
The King of Freedom.