Kerling
The Shire
Oct 22 2015, 7:33pm
Post #1 of 2
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One Last Time - Dwalin's Lament for Thorin
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I wrote this setting it in part just as Thorin emerges without the golden armour, 'restored' to the Thorin he was as Oakenshield, with the last verses obviously at the end of the battle. Dwalin was kindred, and Dwalin was a real fighting dwarf - I felt a lot of 'Norse' in him, and of course there is that Viking touch to the dwarves, not just in the names from the Poetic Edda. I think for Dwalin to live, the one who went up Ravenhill and came down alive, hurt him, and would do so to his end of days. Please note Dwalin is very cynical about Gandalf.
Thorin, my Thorin, my King Under Mountain,
Say but the word, I will follow till death.
Lead me with sword stroke and axe biting orc-flesh,
I am yours only until my last breath.
Clad not in gold now, the gold that gave sickness,
But mailed, as when dwarf prince who fought hard and led
When all seemed past winning, when Durin's line faltered,
Stood sad but victorious midst swathes of our dead.
Bloodied and blackened with gore from the orc-filth,
Clasping the oak bough that kept you from harm,
Thorin, the dwarf who cast back the Defiler,
Sent him back roaring, and lacking an arm.
Where boot slipped in blood of our brethren and foe mixed,
Where grief at our losses washed that blood away,
Thorin-prince showed us that dwarves will not falter.
You were my king, lord, from that fateful day.
'Oakenshield' lost now, reclaim it in battle,
Fight as our leader, not Erebor's lord,
Leave the corruption that lurks in the Mountain.
Cure the sad madness with blood on your sword.
You knew, I could see it, the risk you were taking
In facing the threat that was greater than fire.
Taking back Erebor, Erebor took you
And you could not fight it, what e'er your desire.
Watched I with sorrow the warping of honour,
The twisting of loyalty, heart held in pain.
Step into battle and thrust it all from you,
All that was lost you will truly regain.
(Think you upon this, now all is revealèd
The plan that was Gandalf's he would have denied,
Though cared he but nothing for Durin's folk's future. '
Twas all a deception; the Grey Wizard lied.
Claimed he great friendship with Thrain Who Was Taken
But only the ring that he wore was in mind,
And keeping the fire-drake from joining with Sauron.
Little he thought of the fate of our kind.)
Orc-hewer, warg-slayer, blood-mist berserkr,
See how he claims them as food for his blade.
None shall compare with our King who is Thorin.
Thus in these hours, a great story is made.
Thorin, my Thorin, my tears will not heal you,
Broken you lie like proud Erebor's walls.
Thorin, my Thorin, Great Durin shall greet you.
Take you the path to the Glorious Halls.
Thorin, my Thorin, my wounds are as nothing,
Their pain is as nought to the pain in my heart.
Woulds't they be deeper that I might thee follow,
For how can I bear all the years that will part?
Great son of Thrain, son of Thror, Heir of Durin,
Could I but follow you, Sankhuzd sublime,
Through pain of Passing to joy in the Shade Halls.
Ah yes, I would follow you, just one last time.
Thorin, my Thorin, just one last time.
Þæs oferéode, ðisses swá mæg
(This post was edited by Silverlode on Oct 23 2015, 4:37am)
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